in revenge carry war against the immortals, who have ventured to dispute his supremacy: 'What daring god torments my body thus, And seeks to conquer mighty Tamburlaine? . . To signify the slaughter of the gods.' He seeks with scornful glance to scare away his slave, the ugly monster Death,' but the villain' still comes stealing back, and at last he yields, with the hard-wrung avowal that ‘Tamburlaine, the scourge of God, must die.' Such, in essence, is Marlowe's first hero, a veritable incarnation of the genius of the Renaissance. But the poet's imagination flagged at times, he was encumbered by his historical data, and, above all, he was under the necessity of keeping the attention of his audience alert. We therefore find baser elements mingled with the air and fire' of his 'raptures.' Tamburlaine is often merely an insolent and bloodthirsty tyrant. He carries about the conquered emperor of the Turks with his wife in a cage, and uses him as his footstool; he yokes other of the captive kings to his chariot, and upbraids them as 'pampered jades of Asia' that can only draw twenty miles a day. He flings to the spears of his horsemen the virgins of Damascus who come to crave his clemency; he burns down the city in which Zenocrate dies; and he even stabs one of his own sons upon the stage, because he gives proof of cowardice 1. But Tamburlaine has more serious faults than these melodramatic extravagances. It is absolutely without dramatic unity or cohesion; the various scenes are only held together by the dominating personality of the central figure, and apart from him they would fall asunder like a pack of cards. This artistic defect springs in great part from Marlowe's ethical point of 1 The purely farcical extravagances which disfigure the play need not be laid to Marlowe's charge. The publisher of the printed drama states in his preface that he has omitted some fond and frivolous gestures far unmeet for the matter, though they were of some vain-conceited fondlings greatly gaped at, what time they were shown upon the stage in their graced deformities.' It is thus plain that low-comedy 'gag' had been introduced into the play by the actors, and it is highly probable that even the revised literary version retains traces of it. view. In Richard III and Macbeth Shakspere shows the working out of the Nemesis which attends upon an overreaching ambition; in both plays the lines converge from the outset to the vindication of moral law. But Marlowe's instinct, as has / been shown, is to sympathize with ambition, and no avenging ghosts dog the footsteps of the Scythian conqueror. He simply continues his wild career till the weapons of war fall from his nerveless hands, and, when he lies dead, his eldest son recites over his bier an epitaph suited to a pattern of every virtue : 'Let earth and heaven his timeless death deplore, For both their worths will equal him no more.' From the exploits of Tamburlaine Marlowe turned to a subject of a very different kind, but one peculiarly suited to his genius. The legend of the man who sells his soul to the devil dates from the beginning of the middle ages, but during the early part of the sixteenth century it became identified with a certain Dr. Faustus who studied at various German universities, including Wittenberg, where he was seen by Melanchthon. He engaged in the practice of necromancy, and numerous legends grew up around him, which took literary form in the Volksbuch published by Spiess at Frankfort-on-the-Main. This work was soon rendered into English under the title of The History of the Damnable Life and Deserved Death of Dr. John Faustus, and in this translation Marlowe found the materials for his drama of Doctor Faustus. The exact date of its first performance is uncertain, but it was probably about the year 1588, and the hero was played by the tragedian Alleyn, who had also created the part of Tamburlaine. The piece attained great popularity, not only in London, but abroad, where it was acted in German by an English company. It also went through numerous editions in book form, of which the earliest extant is the quarto of 1604, republished with very slight changes in 1609. There is a later version, considerably expanded and altered, belonging to the year 1616, and undoubtedly incorporating work by other hands, though also possibly preserving portions of Marlowe's original work omitted in the quarto of 1604. Thus here, as in the case of Tamburlaine, we are entitled to recognize the broad fact that Marlowe is not to be held accountable for all the weaker elements in the play, as it has come down to us; but there is no safe criterion by which we can definitely reject particular scenes as spurious. It is important to notice Marlowe's special treatment of his theme. No doubt there is a truth in the statement that the Volksbuch, Marlowe's Faustus, and Goethe's Faust all have this point in common, that they represent love of knowledge as the primary motive which urges the Doctor to sign his contract with the powers of evil. But the Faust of the popular story is a mere vulgar enchanter, while the hero of the German masterpiece, though he covets forbidden lore, is at heart a sceptic, who sells himself to the spirit of denial, and, under his guidance, plunges straightway into sensual pleasures. Marlowe's Faustus, on the other hand, has the genuine Renaissance passion for 'knowledge infinite,' but it is not with him, as in the case of Browning's Paracelsus, a purely intellectual yearning. He aspires to unlawful knowledge because it is an instrument of power. This is shown clearly in the fine opening scene where Faustus is discovered in his study. He discusses each of the arts in turn, Logic, Physic, Law, and Divinity; he has mastered them all, and yet they leave him 'still but Faustus and a man.' He chafes at these mortal limitations, and he seeks freedom from them in magic : 'These metaphysics of magicians And necromantic books are heavenly.' These alone promise him a world of profit and delight,' the command of all things that move between the quiet poles,' a power exceeding that of kings and emperors. It is thus, strictly speaking, the passion for omnipotence rather than omniscience that urges Faustus to summon Mephistophilis by incantations to his side. In bringing an infernal spirit upon the stage Marlowe was confronted with the difficult problem of presenting the supernatural in visible form. The crude realism of the miracle plays was no longer possible; on the other hand, hell had not become refined away with him, as with Goethe, into an idea. Hence Marlowe's delineation avoids physical horrors, while retaining a vividly graphic force. His Mephistophilis is not, as in the German drama, the arch-enemy himself, but an attendant spirit, 'a servant to great Lucifer.' He is a fallen angel, eager for the prize of a sinner's 'glorious soul,' and yet sorrowing with a stately pathos over the bliss that he has forfeited for ever. In his colloquy with Faustus, he perhaps, from a dramatic point of view, does not sufficiently play the part of devil's advocate,' but in his simple wistful answers there rings the piercing note of a deeper than human despair : 'Faust. Tell me what is that Lucifer thy lord? For which God threw him from the face of heaven. And are for ever damned with Lucifer. Faust. Where are you damned? Meph. In hell. Faust. How comes it then that thou art out of hell? Think'st thou that I who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, But this utterance of spiritual agony leaves Faustus unmoved, and he offers to surrender his soul to Lucifer, if he is allowed to live four and twenty years 'in all voluptuousness,' with Mephistophilis as his attendant. Here his motive seems to take a lower and more sensual form, but he immediately afterwards reverts to the idea of power in his declaration that by infernal aid he will be 'great emperor of the world.' Through this play, however, there runs the feeling, of which there is no hint in Tamburlaine, that the satisfaction of unbridled desire is unlawful, and the poet vividly paints the struggle in Faustus' soul before he finally surrenders himself to the powers of darkness. Good and evil angels whisper their counsels to him; a voice sounds in his ears, 'abjure this magic, turn to God again.' But the temptation is too strong, and at midnight in his study, alone with Mephistophilis, Faustus seals the bond. The scene is weirdly impressive, and the effect is heightened by genuine dramatic touches. Faustus is bidden sign with his own blood, but as soon as he has written a few words, it congeals, and has to be melted on a chafer of coals brought in by Mephistophilis. When he has finished the bill,' he is startled at seeing on his arm the mysterious inscription, 'Homo, fuge,' and Mephistophilis has to divert his thoughts with a pageant of devils who make rich offerings to him. Assured that he too may raise up spirits such as these, Faustus hands over his 'deed of gift of body and soul' written in legal prose, and declaring with all formality that on the fulfilment of certain conditions, 'I, John Faustus, of Wertemberg, Doctor, by these presents do give both body and soul to Lucifer, Prince of the East, and his minister Mephistophils, and furthermore grant unto them, that twenty-four years being expired, the articles above written inviolate, full power to fetch or carry the said John Faustus, body and soul, flesh, blood, or goods, into their habitation wheresoever.' The contract thus duly executed, Faustus is bidden ask what he will, and he returns to his old question of the whereabouts of hell. Mephistophilis answers in the same spirit as before : 'Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed In one self place: for where we are is hell, All places shall be hell that is not heaven.' Faustus then suddenly puts his new power to a very different proof by demanding a wife, 'the fairest maid in Germany,' and afterwards makes other requests, all of which are granted by Mephistophilis. Yet he cannot stifle the prickings of conscience: the Good Angel keeps whispering repent' in his ear, and in an outburst of remorse he calls upon Christ to save his soul. At the cry Lucifer rushes in with Belzebub and Mephistophilis to warn him that he is breaking his contract, and Faustus vows in terror, 'Never to look to heaven, Never to name God, or to pray to Him, |