Dr. Faustus (newer edition) | Page 4

Which he prefers before his
chiefest bliss: And this the man that in his study sits. [Exit.]
FAUSTUS discovered in his study.
FAUSTUS. Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin To sound the depth of
that thou wilt profess: Having commenc'd, be a divine in show, Yet
level at the end of every art, 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 attain'd that end: A
greater subject fitteth Faustus' wit: Bid Economy farewell, and Galen
come: Be a physician, Faustus; heap up gold, And be eterniz'd for some
wondrous cure: Summum bonum medicinoe sanitas, The end of physic
is our body's health. Why, Faustus, hast thou not attain'd that end? Are
not thy bills hung up as monuments, Whereby whole cities have escap'd
the plague, And thousand<5> desperate maladies been cur'd? Yet art
thou still but Faustus, and a man. Couldst thou make men to live
eternally, Or, being dead, raise them<6> to life again, Then this
profession were to be esteem'd. Physic, farewell! Where is Justinian?
[Reads.] Si una eademque res legatur<7> duobus, alter rem, alter
valorem rei, &c.
A petty<8> case of paltry legacies!
[Reads.] Exhoereditare filium non potest pater, nisi, &c.<9>

Such is the subject of the institute, And universal body of the law: This
study fits a mercenary drudge, Who aims at nothing but external trash;
Too servile and illiberal for me. When all is done, divinity is best:
Jerome's Bible, Faustus; view it well.
[Reads.] Stipendium peccati mors est. Ha! Stipendium, &c.
The reward of sin is death: that's hard.
[Reads.] Si peccasse negamus, fallimur, et nulla est in nobis veritas;
If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and there is no
truth in us. Why, then, belike we must sin, and so consequently die: Ay,
we must die an everlasting death. What doctrine call you this, Che sera,
sera, What will be, shall be? Divinity, adieu! These metaphysics of
magicians, And necromantic books are heavenly; Lines, circles, scenes,
letters, and characters;<10> Ay, these are those that Faustus most
desires. O, what a world of profit and delight, Of power, of honour, and
omnipotence, Is promis'd to the studious artizan! All things that move
between the quiet poles Shall be at my command: emperors and kings
Are but obeyed in their several provinces; But his dominion that
exceeds in this, Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man; A sound
magician is a demigod: Here tire, my brains, to gain<11> a deity.
Enter WAGNER.
Wagner, commend me to my dearest friends, The German Valdes and
Cornelius; Request them earnestly to visit me.
WAGNER. I will, sir. [Exit.]
FAUSTUS. Their conference will be a greater help to me Than all my
labours, plod I ne'er so fast.
Enter GOOD ANGEL and EVIL ANGEL.
GOOD ANGEL. O, Faustus, lay that damned book aside, And gaze not
on it, lest it tempt thy soul, And heap God's heavy wrath upon thy head!
Read, read the Scriptures:--that is blasphemy.
EVIL ANGEL. Go forward, Faustus, in that famous art Wherein all
Nature's treasure is contain'd: Be thou on earth as Jove is in the sky,
Lord and commander of these<12> elements. [Exeunt ANGELS.]
FAUSTUS. How am I glutted with conceit of this! Shall I make spirits
fetch me what I please, Resolve me of all ambiguities, Perform what
desperate enterprise<13> I will? 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; I'll have them wall all Germany with brass, And make swift
Rhine circle fair<14> Wertenberg; I'll have them fill the public schools
with silk,<15> Wherewith the students shall be bravely clad; I'll levy
soldiers with the coin they bring, And chase the Prince of Parma from
our land, And reign sole king of all the provinces; Yea, stranger
engines for the brunt of war, Than was the fiery keel at Antwerp-bridge,
I'll make my servile spirits to invent.
Enter VALDES and CORNELIUS.
Come, German Valdes, and Cornelius, And make me blest<16> with
your sage conference. Valdes, sweet Valdes, and Cornelius, Know that
your words have won me at the last To practice magic and concealed
arts. Philosophy is odious and obscure; Both law and physic are for
petty wits: 'Tis magic, magic that hath ravish'd me. Then, gentle friends,
aid me in this attempt; And I, that have with subtle syllogisms Gravell'd
the pastors of the German church, And made the flowering pride of
Wittenberg Swarm<17> to my problems, as th' infernal