Calyphas

Celebinus

Amyras

Tamburlaine

Celebinus
Tamburlaine

While I sit smiling to behold the sight.

Now, my boys, what think ye of a wound?

I know not what I should think of it; methinks it is a pitiful sight.

'Tis nothing: give me a wound, father.

And me another, my lord.

Come, sirrah, give me your arm.

Here, father, cut it bravely, as you did your own.

It shall suffice thou darest abide a wound:
My boy, thou shalt not lose a drop of blood
Before we meet the army of the Turk;

But then run desperate through the thickest throngs,
Dreadless of blows, of bloody wounds, and death;

And let the burning of Larissa-walls,

My speech of war, and this my wound you see,
Teach you, my boys, to bear courageous minds,
Fit for the followers of great Tamburlaine!

F

INVOCATION TO HELEN

From Doctor Faustus >

AUSTUS - Was this the face that launched a thousand

ships

And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.

[Kisses her.

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,
And all is dross that is not Helena.

I will be Paris, and for love of thee,

Instead of Troy, shall Wertenberg be sacked;
And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
And wear thy colors on my plumèd crest;
Yea, 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;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
When he appeared to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky

In wanton Arethusa's azured arms:

And none but thou shalt be my paramour.

Ah, Faustus,

Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damned perpetually!
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,
That time may cease, and midnight never come;
Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again and make
Perpetual day; or let this hour be but

A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent and save his soul!

O lente, lente, currite noctis equi!

The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,
The Devil will come, and Faustus must be damned.
Oh, I'll leap up to my God! Who pulls me down?
See, see, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament!
One drop would save my soul!-half a drop; ah, my

Christ!

Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ!
Yet will I call on him: O spare me, Lucifer!—
Where is it now? 'tis gone; and see where God
Stretcheth out his arm, and bends his ireful brows!
Mountain and hills come, come and fall on me,
And hide me from the heavy wrath of God!
No! No!

Then will I headlong run into the earth;
Earth gape! Oh, no, it will not harbor me!
You stars that reigned at my nativity,
Whose influence hath allotted death and hell,
Now draw up Faustus like a foggy mist
Into the entrails of yon laboring clouds,
That when they vomit forth into the air,
My limbs may issue from their smoky mouths,
So that my soul may but ascend to heaven.

[The clock strikes the half-hour.]

Ah, half the hour is past! 'twill all be past anon!

O God!

If thou wilt not have mercy on my soul,

Yet for Christ's sake whose blood hath ransomed me,

Impose some end to my incessant pain;

Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years

A hundred thousand, and at last-be saved!

Oh, no end is limited to damnèd souls!
Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul?
Or why is this immortal that thou hast ?

Ah, Pythagoras's metempsychosis! were that true,
This soul should fly from me, and I be changed
Unto some brutish beast! all beasts are happy,
For, when they die,

Their souls are soon dissolved in elements;

But mine must live, still to be plagued in hell.
Curst be the parents that engendered me!
No, Faustus: curse thyself; curse Lucifer
That hath deprived thee of the joys of heaven.

[The clock strikes twelve.]

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 awhile!
Ugly hell, gape not! come not, Lucifer!
I'll burn my books!—Ah, Mephistophilis!

[Exeunt Devils with Faustus.]

Enter Chorus

Chorus- Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,

And burnèd is Apollo's laurel bough,

That sometime grew within this learnèd man.

Faustus is gone: regard his hellish fall,

Whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise

Only to wonder at unlawful things,

Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits

To practice more than heavenly power permits. [Exit.

K'

ING EDWARD —

FROM EDWARD THE SECOND›

Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou? Lightborn-To comfort you, and bring you joyful news.

King Edward—

Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks.
Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me.

Lightborn To murder you, my most gracious lord!

Far is it from my heart to do you harm.
The Queen sent me to see how you were used,
For she relents at this your misery;
And what eyes can refrain from shedding tears,
To see a king in this most piteous state?

King Edward

Weep'st thou already? List awhile to me:
And then thy heart, were it as Gurney's is,
Or as Matrevis's, hewn from the Caucasus,
Yet will it melt, ere I have done my tale.
This dungeon where they keep me is the sink
Wherein the filth of all the castle falls.

Lightborn- O villains!

King Edward—

And there in mire and puddle have I stood
This ten days' space; and lest that I should sleep,
One plays continually upon a drum;

They give me bread and water, being a king:
So that, for want of sleep and sustenance,
My mind's distempered, and my body's numbed;
And whether I have limbs or no I know not.
Oh, would my blood dropped out from every vein,
As doth this water from my tattered robes.

Tell Isabel, the queen, I looked not thus
When for her sake I ran at tilt in France,

And there unhorsed the Duke of Clermont.

Lightborn Oh, speak no more, my lord! This breaks my heart. Lie on this bed, and rest yourself awhile.

King Edward

These looks of thine can harbor naught but death:
I see my tragedy written in thy brows.
Yet stay awhile forbear thy bloody hand,
And let me see the stroke before it comes;
That even then, when I shall lose my life,
My mind may be more steadfast on my God.

Lightborn What means your Highness to mistrust me thus?
King Edward.

What mean'st thou to dissemble with me thus?
Lightborn. These hands were never stained with innocent blood,
Nor shall they now be tainted with a king's.

-

King Edward

Forgive my thought for having such a thought.
One jewel have I left; receive thou this.
Still fear I, and I know not what's the cause,

But every joint shakes as I give it thee.
Oh, if thou harborest murder in thy heart,

[Giving jewel.}

Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul.
Know that I am a king-oh, at that name

I feel a hell of grief! Where is my crown?
Gone, gone! and do I still remain alive?

Lightborn-You're overwatched, my lord: lie down and rest.
King Edward-

But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep;
For not these ten days have these eyelids closed.
Now as I speak they fall; and yet with fear
Open again. Oh, wherefore sitt'st thou here?
Lightborn-If you mistrust me, I'll begone, my lord.
King Edward-

No, no: for if thou mean'st to murder me,
Thou wilt return again; and therefore stay. [Sleeps.]
Lightborn-He sleeps.

King Edward [waking]

Lightborn

Oh, let me not die yet! Oh, stay a while!
How now, my lord?

King Edward

Lightborn

Something still buzzeth in mine ears,

And tells me if I sleep I never wake;

This fear is that which makes me tremble thus.

And therefore tell me, Wherefore art thou come?
To rid thee of thy life. Matrevis, come!

King Edward—

Lightborn

Enter Matrevis and Gurney

I am too weak and feeble to resist:

Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul!
Run for the table.

King Edward

Oh, spare me, or dispatch me in a trice.

[Matrevis brings in a table.]