One drop of blood will save me: oh, my Christ! Rend not my heart for naming of my Christ; Yet will I call on him. Oh, spare me Lucifer!Where is it now?-'tis gone!
And see, a threatening arm, an angry brow! 19 Mountains and hills, come, come and fall on me, And hide me from the heavy wrath of heaven! No!
Then will I headlong run into the earth: Gape, earth! O no, it will not harbour 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 labouring cloud; That, when ye vomit forth into the air My limbs may issue from your smoky mouths; But let my soul mount and ascend to heaven. 31 (The clock strikes the half hour.)
Oh, half the hour is past, 'till all be past anon. Oh! if my soul must suffer for my sin, Impose some end to my incessant pain.
Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years- 35 A hundred thousand-and at last be saved: No end is limited to damned souls. Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul? Or why is this immortal that thou hast? Oh! Pythagorus' Metempsychosis!
Were that (but) true; this soul should fly from me,
And I be changed into 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. 45 Cursed 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.) It strikes, it strikes! now body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell.
(Thunder and rain.) O soul! be changed into small water-drops, And fall into the ocean; ne'er be found.
The men of wealthy Sestos every year, For his sake whom their goddess held so dear, Rose-cheeked Adonis, kept a solemn feast; Thither resorted many a wandering guest To meet their loves: such as had none at all, 95 Came lovers home from this great festival; For every street, like to a firmament, Glistered with breathing stars, who, where they went,
According to the doctrine of Metempsychosis, taught by the Greek philosopher Pythagoras and others, souls passed after death, either into the body of an animal, or of some human being, in reincarnation. This is sometimes called "the transmigration of souls."
As after chanced, they did each other spy. So fair a church as this had Venus none: The walls were of discoloured jaspar-stone, Wherein was Proteus carved; and over-head A lively vine of green sea-agate spread, Where by one hand light-headed Bacchus hung, And with the other wine from grapes out- wrung.
Of crystal shining fair the pavement was; The town of Sestos called it Venus' glass.
There Hero sacrificing turtles' blood, Veiled to the ground, veiling her eyelids close; And modestly they opened as she rose: Thence flew Love's arrow with the golden head; And thus Leander was enamoured. Stone-still he stood, and evermore he gazed, Till with the fire, that from his countenance blazed,
When I consider everything that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment, That this huge stage presenteth naught but shows
Whereon the stars in secret influence comment; When I perceive that men as plants increase, 5 Cheered and check'd even by the selfsame sky, Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease, And wear their brave state out of memory; Then the conceit of this inconstant stay Sets you most rich in youth before my sight, 10 Where wasteful Time debateth with Decay, To change your day of youth to sullied night; And all in war with Time for love of you, As he takes from you, I engraft you new.
Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace: Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all-triumphant splendour on my brow; 10 But, out, alack! he was but one hour mine, The region cloud hath mask'd him from me
Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rime; But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone, besmear'd with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory. 'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom. So, till the judgment that yourself arise, You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes.
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before,
In sequent toil all forwards do contend.
Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, (Press'd by) these rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end? Then, soul, live thou upon thy servant's loss, And let that pine to aggravate thy store; Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross; Within be fed, without be rich no more;
So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men,
And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.
THE SHEPHERD'S LIFE
HENRY VI.'S SOLILOQUY AT THE BATTLE OF
(From III Henry VI., Act II. v., 1590-92) This battle fares like to the morning's war, When dying clouds contend with growing light; What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, Can neither call it perfect day nor night.
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