Shall be at my command: emperors and kings Are but obeyed in their several provinces; Nor can they raise the wind, or rend the clouds. But his dominion that exceeds in this, 60 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! Scene XIV. Enter FAUSTUS with the scholars. Faust. Ah, gentlemen! First Sch. What ails Faustus? Faust. Ah, my sweet chamberfellow! Had I lived with thee, then 6 had I lived still, but now I die eternally. Look, comes he not? comes he not? Sec. Sch. What means Faustus? Third Sch. Belike he is grown 10 into some sickness by being over solitary. First Sch. If it be so, we will have physicians to cure him; 'tis but a surfeit; never fear, man. 15 Faust. A surfeit of a deadly sin that hath damn'd both body and soul. Sec. Sch. Yet, Faustus, look up to heaven, remember God's mercies 20 are infinite. Faust. But Faustus' offence can ne'er be pardoned. The serpent that tempted Eve may be saved, but not Faustus. Ah, gentlemen, hear me 26 with patience, and tremble not at my speeches. Though my heart pants and quivers to remember that I have been a student here these thirty years, oh, would I had ne'er seen Witten30 berg, never read book! and what wonders I have done, all Germany can witness, yea, all the world: for which Faustus hath lost both Germany and the world, yea heaven it35 self, heaven, the seat of God, the throne of the blessed, the kingdom of joy, and must remain in hell for ever. Hell, ah hell for ever! Sweet friends, what shall become of Faustus 40 being in hell for ever? Herrig-Förster, British Authors. Third Sch. Yet, Faustus, call on God. Faust. On God whom Faustus hath abjured? on God whom Faustus hath blasphemed? Ah, my God, I 45 would weep, but the devil draws in my tears. Gush forth blood instead of tears, yea life and soul! Oh, he stays my tongue. I would lift up my hands, but see, they hold them, they 50 hold them. All. Who, Faustus? Faust. Lucifer and Mephistophilis. Ah, gentlemen! I gave them my soul for my cunning. All. God forbid! 55 Faust. God forbade it indeed, but Faustus hath done it: for vain pleasure of four-and-twenty years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and 60 felicity. I writ them a bill with mine own blood, the date is expired, the time will come, and he will fetch me. First Sch. Why did not Faustus 65 tell us of this before, that divines. might have prayed for thee? Faust. Oft have I thought to have done so; but the devil threatened to tear me in pieces if I named 70 God, to fetch both body and soul, if I once gave ear to divinity; and now 'tis too late. Gentlemen, away! lest you perish with me. Sec. Sch. O what shall we do to 75 save Faustus? Faust. Talk not of me, but save yourselves, and depart. Third Sch. God will strengthen me, I will stay with Faustus. 2 80 First Sch. Tempt not God, sweet friend, but let us into the next room and there pray for him. Faust. Ay, pray for me, pray 85 for me! and what noise soever ye hear, come not unto me; for nothing can rescue me. Sec. Sch. Pray thou, and we will pray that God may have mercy upon thee. Faust. Gentlemen, farewell; if I live till morning, I'll visit you: if not, Faustus is gone to hell. Scholars. Faustus, farewell. (Exeunt Scholars. The clock strikes eleven.) 95 Faust. Ah, Faustus, Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, A year, a month, a week, a natural day, O lente, lente currite noctis equi. 105 The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, Yet will I call on him: Oh spare me, Lucifer! Then will I headlong run into the earth: 120 Whose influence hath allotted death and hell, 130 (The watch strikes.) Ah, half the hour is past: 'twill all be past anon. Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years, Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul? 135 Ah, Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were that true, This soul should fly from me, and I be chang'd Their souls are soon dissolv'd in elements; 140 But mine must live still to be plagued in hell. O soul, be chang'd into little water-drops, Enter Devils. My God, my God, look not so fierce on me! Enter Chorus. (The clock strikes twelve.) (Thunder and lightning.) (Exeunt with him.) Chor. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, That sometime grew within this learned man: 15 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 practise more than heavenly power permits. (Exit.) THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. Come live with me, and be my love; And we will sit upon the rocks, A gown made of the finest wool 16 A belt of straw and ivy-buds, And I will make thee beds of The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my love. 24 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. WILLIAM SHAKSPERE (1564–1616), the greatest dramatist of England and perhaps of all countries and ages, was born at the prosperous country-town of Stratford-on-Avon, and baptized there on April 26, 1564. Probably, when seven years old, he entered the free Grammar School of his native town and most likely underwent there the usual training in Latin classics, such as Ovid, Virgil, Terence, Plautus, Seneca, and others. In spite of Ben Jonson's slighting remark about the poet's 'little Latin and less Greek', he must have acquired a fair knowledge of Latin, and, in later years, also of French, besides some Italian. While William was young, his father, who was a trader in agricultural produce, prospered in his business, and gained considerable influence among his townsmen, holding successively several municipal offices and even that of 'bailiff' or mayor (1568). But from about 1577, the father's fortunes rapidly declined and forced him to mortgage his wife's property at Asbies (1578). So we may conclude that young William was early removed from school and probably apprenticed to his father's business. Before quite 19 years old, he married (1582) Anne Hathaway (by eight years his senior), the daughter of a farmer in the adjoining village of Shottery. Some three years after his marriage he left his family at Stratford, perhaps in consequence of a prosecution for deer-stealing by Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote, and travelled on foot to London, which became his chief residence for the next 23 years of his life (ab. 1586-1609). The exact nature of his first occupation there is unknown; but we can be sure that he early found some connection with the stage and was soon employed as an actor and as an adaptor of other writers' plays. Certain it is that before long he tried his hand also at original dramatic composition, and succeeded so well, that, as early as 1592, he was both publicly attacked and praised by fellowplaywrights. His high reputation as a writer gained him the favour of the Court and the patronage and friendship of such exalted persons as the Earl of Southampton, to whom he dedicated two of his poems. Also with his fellow-dramatists he seems to have been on rather good terms and good-naturedly to have taken little offence at their petty jealousies and attacks, though, following a fashion of the time, he may occasionally have retorted upon them by satirical hints in his plays. Tradition makes him a frequent partner in the jovial meetings and 'wit-combats' of Ben Jonson and his circle in the Mermaid Tavern, where Ben's solid classical learning is said to have found a match in Shakspere's quickness of wit and invention. As a successful actor and dramatist he secured a large income, and even comparative wealth, after he had become a share-holder in the Globe (1599) and Blackfriars theatres, so that he was able to make several purchases of houses and land at Stratford and to reestablish the social position of his family. After many years of absence he revisited his native town in 1599, and thenceforth probably spent at least some part of the year there with his wife and children, till, in 1611, or thereabout, he abandoned the stage altogether and made Stratford his chief residence for the rest of his life. He died there at the age of 52, on April 23, 1616, and was buried in the chancel of the parish church. Shakspere's dramatic works were, for various reasons, never published by the author himself. It is true that, during his lifetime, sixteen of his plays appeared in print, but these editions, called 'Quartos' from their size, were printed without the author's sanction or permission from texts surreptitiously obtained by speculative booksellers either from shorthand copies taken down during a performance, or from stage manuscripts procured by bribing the players. Seven years after the poet's death, his dramas, 36 in number, were collected by two of his friends and fellow-actors, and given to the world by the combined efforts of four booksellers in a folio edition (1623), which, however, cannot claim either to give an authentic text, as, in some cases at least, it can be proved to have been taken from acting copies, or earlier quarto editions. Still this 'First Folio Edition' of 1623, which is the sole authority for 18 of Shakspere's plays, may safely be called the most important book in the whole range of English literature. It arranges the plays under the three heads of 'Comedies', 'Histories' (i. e. dramatisations of episodes in English history), and "Tragedies'. Unfortunately we do not know the exact date nor the exact order of Shakspere's plays; but many methods have been found to establish at least an approximate chronology of them. The whole career of his dramatic authorship, which is probably comprised in little more than 20 years, may be divided into four periods. To the time of his dramatic apprenticeship belong several lively and joyful comedies, such as Love's Labour's Lost and The Comedy of Errors, and some 'histories' (Henry VI., Richard III., and Richard II.) still marked by a strong influence of Marlowe, whilst the wonderful comedy of A MidsummerNight's Dream, with its brightness and lyrical music, and his first tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, with its glow of youthful passion and Italian sky, already betray a masterhand. The second period is distinguished by a deeper insight into the realities of life and the characters of men. This advance in character-drawing is seen not only in the tragicomedy of The Merchant of Venice (the interest of which is concentrated in the revengeful Shylock), but also in the later 'histories', Shakspere's best efforts in this line, viz. King John, Henry IV. (where the non-historical, extremely humorous figure of Falstaff is first introduced) and Henry V., and in the mirthful comedies of The Taming of the Shrew, The Merry Wives of Windsor, and the first of the three great comedies, Much Ado about Nothing (Benedick and Beatrice). At the turn of the 16th century, a remarkable change of tone is noticeable in Shakspere's work: the brightness and sunshine of his former plays gives way to a gloomy seriousness and sometimes even bitterness. He is still writing comedies; but the gaiety of As You Like It (with the melancholic Jaques and the pensive fool Touchstone) and Twelfth - Night is blended with a key of sadness, which in All's Well that Ends Well and in Measure for Measure passes into a dark aspect of life. Still more characteristic of this period of Shakspere's career are the great tragedies which he wrote between 1601-1609: the two tragedies of reflection, Julius Cæsar and Hamlet (founded on a lost play by Thomas Kyd), and the five tragedies of passion, Othello (jealousy), Macbeth (am bition), Lear (blind confidence), Antony and Cleopatra (voluptuousness), and Coriolanus (haughtiness). As with all strong natures, Shakspere's mind was not for ever embittered by the evils of life, but emerged from them with a royal serenity and gentleness of temper, which is reflected in the wonderful calm and beauty of his last plays (ab. 1610—12), the 'romances' Cymbeline, The Winter's Tale, and The Tempest. It is worth noting that with all his fertility of fancy and his power of creating characters, Shakspere did not trouble much to invent the plots of his plays. Very often he took them from some old play, which he completely remodelled, as in the case of Hamlet, Lear, and others, or from Italian novels (Bandello, Giraldi Cinthio, Boccaccio), mostly in French or English translation. The materials for his historical plays he drew from R. Holinshed's Chronicles (1586), and those for his Roman tragedies, from Th. North's translation (1579) of Plutarch's Parallel Lives. While engaged on his earlier dramatic works, Shakspere wrote also epic and lyric poetry, in which he excelled no less than in the drama. His two narrative poems, Venus and Adonis and Lucrece (both dedicated to the Earl of Southampton and published in 1593 and 1594 respectively) paraphrase two Ovidian fables in the rich style of the English renaissance, and are conspicuous for their intensity of passion and directness of observation. His great lyrical gift is betrayed in the sweet songs scattered among his comedies, and in a series of 154 Sonnets, most of them addressed to a young man of high station, or a lady of dark complexion. How far these sonnets contain an autobiographical element, or mere school conventionalities of the French and Italian sonneteers, is still a matter of dispute. As for depth of thought and feeling, vividness of imagery, and sweetness of versification they certainly include some of the finest work of one of the greatest poets of the world. HENRY VI. IN THE BATTLE OF TOWTON. [From The Third Part of King Henry VI., Act II, Sc. 5 (ab. 1592)] King. 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. 5 Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea |