The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus

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Francis Griffiths, 1907 - English drama - 72 pages
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Page 66 - Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, L^ ^ • •/• And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? — Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. — Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies !— Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,
Page 38 - and remain for ever: Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib'd In one self place; for where we are is Hell, And where Hell is, there must we ever be: And, to conclude, when all the world dissolves, And every creature shall be purified, All places shall be Hell that are not heaven.
Page 71 - Oh, it strikes, it strikes ! Now, body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell! [Thunder and lightning. O soul, be changed into little water-drops, And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found ! Enter DEVILS. My God, my God, look not so fierce on me! .—- Adders and serpents, let me breathe a while
Page 22 - Shall be at my command : emperors and kings Are but obeye'd in their several provinces, Nor can they raise the winds or rend the clouds ; But his dominion that exceeds in this, Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man ; A sound magician is a mighty god : Here, Faustus, tire thy brains to gain a deity.
Page 23 - I'll have them fly to India for gold, Ransack the ocean for orient pearl, And search all corners of the new-found world For pleasant fruits and princely delicates; I'll have them read me strange philosophy, And tell the secrets of all foreign kings;
Page 67 - And I will wound Achilles in the heel, And then return to Helen for a kiss. Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air , Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Page 24 - Valdes, sweet Valdes, and Cornelius, Know that your words have won me at the last To practise magic and concealed arts : Yet not your words only, but mine own fantasy, That will receive no object; for my head But ruminates on necromantic skill. 'Philosophy is odious and obscure; Both law and physic are for petty wits;
Page 21 - hung up as monuments, Whereby whole cities have escaped the plague, And thousand desperate maladies been eased? Yet art thou still but Faustus, and a man. Couldst thou make men to live eternally, Or, being dead, raise them to life again, Then this profession were to be esteemed. Physic, farewell! Where is Justinian?
Page 24 - made all Europe honour him. Void. Faustus, these books, thy wit, and our experience, Shall make all nations to canonize us. As Indian Moors obey their Spanish lords, So shall the spirits of every element Be always serviceable to us three; Like lions shall they guard us when we please; Like Almain Rutters
Page 20 - And live and die in Aristotle's works. Sweet Analytics, 'tis thou hast ravish'd me! Bene disserere est finis logices. Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end? Affords this art no greater miracle? Then read no more; thou hast attained that end : A greater subject fitteth Faustus

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