All language subtitles for Doctor Faustus-1967 en

Settle thy studies, Faustus.

And begin to sound the depth
of that thou wilt profess.

"Settle thy studies, Faustus.

"And begin to sound the depth
of that thou wilt profess."

Having commenced, 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 ravished me.

Is to dispute well logic's chiefest end?

Affords this art no greater miracle?

Then read no more,
thou hast attained the end.

A greater subject fitteth Faustus' wit.

Be a physician, Faustus, heap up gold,
and be eternized for some wondrous cure.

The end of physic is our body's health.

Couldst thou make man to live eternally,
or, being dead...

raise them to life again...

then this profession were to be esteemed.

Physic, farewell.

Jerome's Bible, Faustus. View it well.

The reward of sin is death.

That's hard.

If we say we have no sin,
we deceive ourselves...

and there is no truth in us.

Why then, belike we must sin...

and so consequently die.

We must die...

an everlasting death.

What doctrine call you this? Que ser�, ser�:

What will be, shall be.

Divinity, adieu.

What a world of profit and delight.

Of power, of honor, of omnipotence...

is promised to the studious artisan.

All things that move between the quiet poles
shall be at my command.

These metaphysics of magicians
and necromantic books are heavenly.

Lines, circles, scenes,
letters, and characters...

these are those that Faustus most desires.

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 mighty god.

Here, Faustus.

Tire thy brains to gain a deity.

Wagner!

Commend me to my dearest friends,
the worthy Valdes and Cornelius.

- Request them earnestly to visit me.
- I will, sir.

Their conference will be a greater help to me
than all my labors...

plod I ne'er so fast.

- My master, Faustus, bids you...
- Bids us come to him.

We know it, boy. We know.

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.

Go forward, Faustus, in that famous art...

wherein all nature's treasury is contained.

Be thou on earth as Jove is in the sky...

Lord and commander of these elements.

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 I will?

I'll have them fly to India for gold.

Ransack the ocean for orient pearl.

And search all corners
of the newfound 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 Wittenberg.

I'll have them fill the public schools
with silk...

wherewith the students
shall be bravely clad.

I'll levy soldiers with the coin they bring...

and reign sole king of all our provinces.

The learned Valdes and Cornelius.

Come, worthy Valdes and Cornelius...

and make me blest
with your sage conference.

Valdes, sweet Valdes, and Cornelius...

know your words have won me at the last
to practice magic and concealed arts.

Yet not your words only,
but mine own fantasy...

which will receive no object for my head
but ruminates on necromantic skill.

'Tis magic, magic, that hath ravished me.

These books...

Thy wit...

...and our experience.

...shall make all nations to canonize us.

As Indian Moors obey their Spanish lords...

So shall the spirit of every element...

...be always serviceable to us three.

Like lions shall they guard us
where we please.

Like Almain rutters
with their horsemen's staves.

And from America the Golden Fleece...

that yearly stuffs old Philip's treasury.

If learned Faustus will be resolute.

As resolute am I in this, as thou to live.
Therefore, object it not.

Then doubt not, Faustus,
but to be renowned...

and more frequented for this mystery
than heretofore the Delphian oracle.

The spirits tell me they can dry the sea...

and fetch the treasure of all foreign wrecks.

All the wealth that our forefathers hid
within the massy entrails of the earth.

Then tell me, Faustus,
what shall we three want?

Nothing.

Sometimes like women,
spirits shall come to thee...

shadowing more beauty in their airy brows...

than have the white breasts
of the Queen of Love.

This cheers my soul.

Then come and dine with me...

and after meat,
we'll canvas every quiddity thereof.

For ere I sleep, I'll try what I can do.

This night I'll conjure though I die therefore.

Within this circle is Jehovah's name
forward and backward anagrammatized...

the breviated names of holy saints...

figures of every adjunct to the heavens,
and characters of signs and erring stars...

by which the spirits are enforced to rise.

Leave me, that I may conjure here alone.

Then fear not, Faustus, but be resolute.

And try the uttermost magic can perform.

I charge thee to return
and change thy shape.

Thou art too ugly to attend on me.

Go, and return an old Franciscan friar...

that holy shape becomes a devil best.

I see there's virtue in my heavenly words.

Who would not be proficient in this art?

How pliant is this Mephistophilis,
full of obedience and humility!

Such is the force of magic and my spells.

Now, Faustus, art thou conjuror laureate...

that canst command great Mephistophilis.

Now, Faustus,
what wouldst thou have me do?

I charge thee wait upon me whilst I live...

and do whatever Faustus shall command.

Be it make the moon drop from her sphere
or the ocean to overwhelm the world.

I am a servant to great Lucifer,
and may not follow thee without his leave.

No more than he commands
must we perform.

Did not he charge thee to appear to me?

No, I came hither of mine own accord.

Did not my conjuring speeches raise thee?
Speak.

That was the cause, but yet per accidens...

for when we hear one
rack the name of God...

abjure the scriptures and his savior Christ...

we fly, in hope to get his glorious soul.

Nor will we come, unless he use such means
whereby he is in danger to be damned.

Therefore, the shortest cut for conjuring
is stoutly to abjure the Trinity...

and pray devoutly to the Prince of Hell.

So Faustus hath already done,
and holds this principle:

There is no chief but only Belzebub,
to whom Faustus doth dedicate himself.

This word "damnation" terrifies not him.

But, leaving these vain trifles
of men's souls...

tell me, what is that Lucifer thy Lord?

Arch-regent and commander of all spirits.

Was not that Lucifer an angel once?

Yes, Faustus, and most dearly loved of God.

How comes it then
that he is Prince of Devils?

By aspiring pride and insolence...

for which God threw him
from the face of Heaven.

And what are you that live with Lucifer?

Unhappy spirits that fell with Lucifer...

conspired against our God with Lucifer...

and are forever damned with Lucifer.

- Where are you damned?
- In Hell.

How comes it then that thou art out of Hell?

Why, this is Hell, nor am I out of it.

Think'st thou that I
who saw the face of God...

and tasted the eternal joys of Heaven...

am not tormented with 10,000 hells...

in being deprived of everlasting bliss?

Faustus, leave these frivolous demands...

which strike a terror to my fainting soul.

What, is great Mephistophilis so passionate
for being deprived of the joys of Heaven?

Learn thou of Faustus' manly fortitude...

and scorn those joys
thou never shalt possess.

Go, bear these tidings to great Lucifer.

Seeing Faustus hath incurred
eternal death...

by desperate thoughts
against Jove's deity...

say he surrenders up to him his soul
so he will spare him four and 20 years...

letting him live in all voluptuousness,
having thee ever to attend on me...

to give me whatsoever I demand,
to slay mine enemies and aid my friends...

and always be obedient to my will.

Go, and return to mighty Lucifer...

and then meet me in my study at midnight,
and there resolve me of thy master's mind.

I will, Faustus.

Had I as many souls as there be stars...

I'd give them all for Mephistophilis.

By him, I'll be great Emperor of the world...

and make a bridge thorough the moving air
to pass the ocean with a band of men.

I'll join the hills that bind the Afric shore
and make that country continent to Spain...

and both contributory to my crown.

The Emperor shall not live but by my leave...

nor any potentate of Germany.

Now that I have obtained what I desire...

I live in speculation of this art...

till Mephistophilis return again.

Now, Faustus,
must thou needs be damned...

and canst thou not be saved?

What boots it then
to think of God or Heaven?

Away with such vain fancies, and despair.

Despair in God...

and trust in Belzebub.

Now, go not backward.

No, Faustus, be resolute.

Why waver'st thou?

Something soundeth in mine ears.

Abjure this magic, turn to God again.

And Faustus will turn to God again.

To God? He loves thee not.

The God thou serv'st is thine own appetite...

wherein is fixed the love of Belzebub.

To him I'll build an altar and a church...

and offer lukewarm blood
of newborn babes.

Go forward, Faustus, in that famous art.

Sweet Faustus, leave that execrable art.

Contrition, prayer, repentance,
what of them?

They are means to bring thee unto Heaven.

Rather illusions, fruits of lunacy...

that make men foolish
that do trust them most.

Sweet Faustus, think of Heaven
and heavenly things.

No, Faustus...

think of honor and of wealth.

Wealth!

When Mephistophilis shall stand by thee,
what God can hurt thee?

Thou art safe. Cast no more doubts.

Come, Mephistophilis,
and bring glad tidings from great Lucifer.

Is it not midnight?

Come, Mephistophilis.

Now tell me...

what says Lucifer thy Lord?

That I shall wait on Faustus whilst he lives...

so he will buy my service with his soul.

Already Faustus hath hazarded that for thee.

But, Faustus,
thou must bequeath it solemnly...

and write a deed of gift
with thine own blood.

For that security craves great Lucifer.

If thou deny it, I will back to Hell.

Nay!

Stay, Mephistophilis...

and tell me
what good will my soul do thy lord?

Enlarge his kingdom.

- Is that the reason why he tempts us thus?
- Wretches find comfort in fellow sufferers.

Why, have you any pain that torture others?

As great as have the human souls of men.

But tell me, Faustus, shall I have thy soul?

And I will be thy slave and wait on thee...

and give thee more
than thou hast wit to ask.

Ay, Mephistophilis...

I give it thee.

Then stab thy arm courageously,
and bind thy soul...

that at some certain day,
great Lucifer may claim it as his own...

and then be thou as great as Lucifer.

Mephistophilis, for love of thee,
I cut mine arm...

and with my proper blood
assure my soul to be great Lucifer's...

chief lord and regent...

of perpetual night.

View here the blood
that trickles from mine arm.

And let it be propitious to my wish.

But, Faustus, thou must sign it,
in manner of a deed of gift.

And so I will.

What might this staying
of my blood portend?

Is it unwilling I should write this bill?

Why streams it not that I might write afresh?

"Faustus gives to thee his soul."

There it stayed.

Why shouldst thou not?
Is not thy soul thine own?

So now the blood begins to clear again.

Now will I make an end immediately.

Flee, Faustus, flee.

Whither?

Run, Faustus, run.

Whither should I fly?

To God.

If unto God, he'll cast me down to Hell.

My soul's my own.

Yet shall not Faustus fly.

I'll fetch him somewhat to delight his mind.

Why, there's enough for a thousand souls.

What will I not do to obtain his soul?

This bill is ended.

And Faustus hath bequeathed
his soul to Lucifer.

Here, Mephistophilis, receive this scroll,
a deed of gift of body and of soul.

But yet conditionally that thou perform
all articles prescribed between us both.

Faustus, I swear by Hell and Lucifer...

to effect all promises between us made.

Then hear me read them.

"On these conditions following:

"That Mephistophilis shall be his servant
and at his command...

"and bring him whatsoever he desires
at all times...

"and in what form or shape
soever he please.

"I, John Faustus, of Wittenberg, doctor...

"by these presents
do give both body and soul to Lucifer...

"and his minister, Mephistophilis.

"And, furthermore, grant unto them...

"that 24 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 habitations wheresoever.

"By me...

"John Faustus."

Speak, Faustus,
do you deliver this as your deed?

Take it, and the Devil give thee good on it.

Now, Faustus, ask what thou wilt.

First, I will question thee about Hell.

Tell me, where is this place
that men call Hell?

- Under the heavens.
- But whereabout?

Within the bowels of these elements,
where we are tortured and remain forever.

Hell hath no limits,
nor is circumscribed in one self place...

for where we are is Hell.

And where Hell is, there must we ever be.

And, to conclude,
when all the world dissolves...

and every creature shall be purified...

all places shall be Hell that are not Heaven.

Now, come, I think Hell's a fable.

Think so still,
till experience change your mind.

Why, think'st thou then
that Faustus shall be damned?

Of necessity, for here's the scroll
wherein thou hast given thy soul to Lucifer.

And body, too, but what of that?

Think'st thou that Faustus is so fond
as to imagine that after life there is pain?

Tush. These are mere trifles
and old wives' tales.

Faustus, I am an instance
to prove the contrary.

For I am damned, and am now in Hell.

How, now in Hell? Nay, and this be Hell,
I'll willingly be damned here.

What, walking, disputing, etc.,
but leaving off this...

let me have a wife,
the fairest maid in Germany...

for I am wanton and lascivious
and can't live without a wife.

How, a wife!
I prithee, Faustus, talk not of a wife.

Mephistophilis, fetch me one,
for I will have one.

Well, thou wilt have one.

Come then, I'll fetch thee a wife...

in the Devil's name.

Tell me, Faustus,
how dost thou like thy wife?

A plague on her for a hot whore.

Faustus, marriage is but a ceremonial toy.

If thou lov'st me, think no more of it.

I'll cull thee out the fairest courtesans,
and bring them every morning to thy bed.

She whom thine eye shall like,
thy heart shall have...

be she as chaste as was Penelope.

As wise as Saba.

Or as beautiful as was bright Lucifer
before his fall.

When I behold creation in a flower...

then I repent,
and curse thee, wicked Mephistophilis...

because thou hast deprived me
of the joys of Heaven.

Why, Faustus, thinkest thou
Heaven is such a glorious thing?

I tell thee 'tis not half so fair as thou...

nor any man that breathes on earth.

How prov'st thou that?

'Twas made for man...

therefore is man more excellent.

If 'twas made for man, 'twas made for me.

I will renounce this magic and repent.

Faustus, repent...

yet God will pity thee.

Thou art damned!

Thou art a spirit.

God cannot pity thee.

Who buzzeth in mine ears I am a spirit?

Be I a devil, yet God may pity me.

God will pity me if I repent.

But Faustus never shall repent.

Faustus, thou art damned!

My heart's so hardened, I cannot repent.

Scarce can I name salvation,
faith or Heaven...

but fearful echoes thunder in mine ears:

"Faustus, thou art damned!"

And long ere this
I should have slain myself...

had not sweet pleasure
conquered deep despair.

Why should I die, then, or basely despair?

I am resolved.

Faustus shall ne'er repent.

Come, Mephistophilis.

Come, Mephistophilis, let us dispute again.

Tell me, who made the world?

I will not.

Sweet Mephistophilis, tell me.

Move me not, for I will not tell thee.

Villain, have I not bound thee
to tell me anything?

That is not against our kingdom, but this is.

Think thou on Hell, Faustus,
for thou art damned.

Think, Faustus, upon God,
that made the world.

Remember this.

Go, accursed spirit, to ugly Hell!

Flee!

'Tis thou hast damned
distressed Faustus' soul.

Is it not too late?

Too late.

Never too late, if Faustus can repent.

If thou repent,
devils shall tear thee in pieces.

Repent, and they shall never raze thy skin.

Faustus, thou art damned, there is no hope.

Faustus, turn to God, there lies hope.

Christ, my Savior,
seek to save distressed Faustus' soul.

Come hither, Faustus.

Christ cannot save thy soul, for he is just.

There's none but I have interest in the same.

Who art thou that look'st so terrible?

I am Lucifer...

and this is my companion-prince in Hell.

Faustus, they are come to fetch thy soul.

We come to tell thee thou dost injure us.

Thou talk'st of Christ
contrary to thy promise.

Thou shouldst not think of God.

Think of the Devil.

Nor will I henceforth. Pardon me in this.

Faustus vows never to look to Heaven,
never to call on God or pray to him.

To burn his scriptures, slay his ministers...

and make my spirits
pull his churches down.

Do so, and we will highly gratify thee.

Faustus, we are come from Hell
to show thee some pastime.

Thou shalt see
all the Seven Deadly Sins appear...

in their proper shapes.

That sight will be as pleasing to me
as Paradise was to Adam...

the first day of his creation.

Talk not of Paradise nor creation,
but mark this show.

Talk of the Devil, and nothing else.

Remember, Faustus...

sweet pleasure conquers deep despair.

In Hell is all manner of delight.

- Who art thou?
- I am Lechery.

Here is a mask, to show you all the Sins.

Now you may see our garden,
full of delights and curious invention.

What wonders are here.
What art thou, in thy cage of gold?

I am Avarice.

Oh, my fine gold.

What keeps you so barred up?

Infinite riches in a little room.

Bars do not keep me in.

They keep thee out.

I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits...

musicians that with touching of a string...

may draw the pliant soul which way I please.

Like sylvan nymphs,
my pages shall be clad...

my men like satyrs grazing on the lawns...

or, sometimes, like a lovely boy
in Diane's shape...

with crownets of pearl
about his naked arms.

One like Actaeon
peeping through the grove...

shall, by the angry goddess,
be transformed...

and running in the likeness of a hart
shall be pulled down...

and seen to die.

Such things as these
best please Your Majesty.

Why, to this all pleasures fancies be...

for all my life I'll live with Lechery.

What art thou?

I am Pride...

and these, my sons...

are Wrath and Envy.

Together we will triumph over all the world.

Your Majesty shall shortly have your wish...

and ride in triumph through Persepolis.

"And ride in triumph through Persepolis?"

Is it not brave to be a king, my Faustus?

Is it not passing brave to be a king
and ride in triumph through Persepolis?

To be a king is half to be a god.

A god is not so glorious as a king.

I think the pleasures they enjoy in Heaven...

cannot compare with kingly joys in earth.

Why speak you, Faustus...

wilt thou be a king?

Is it not passing brave to be a king
and ride in triumph through Persepolis?

Then, Faustus, march.
For you shall fight with us.

So burn the turrets of this cursed town.

Flame to the highest region of the air.

Over my zenith hand a blazing star
that may endure till Heaven be dissolved.

Give me a map then, let me see...

how much is left to conquer all the world.

Let Doctor Faustus appear.

Master Doctor Faustus...

I have heard strange report
of his knowledge in the black art.

This therefore is my request...

that he should let me see
some proof of his skill...

that mine eyes may be witnesses to confirm
what mine ears have heard reported.

In faith, he looks much like a conjuror.

My gracious sovereign...

though I must confess myself far inferior
to the report that men have made...

I am content to do whatsoever
Your Majesty shall command.

Then, Doctor Faustus, mark what I shall say.

As I was sometime solitary set
within my closet...

sundry thoughts arose
about the honor of mine ancestors...

amongst which kings
is Alexander the Great.

If therefore thou, by cunning of thine art...

canst raise this man
from hollow vaults below...

and bring with him
his beauteous paramour...

thou shalt both satisfy my just desire...

and give me cause to praise thee
whilst I live.

My gracious lord...

I'm ready to accomplish your request
so far forth...

as by art and power of my spirit
I am able to perform.

In faith, that's just nothing at all.

But, and it please Your Grace, it is not
in my power to present before your eyes...

the true substantial bodies
of those two deceased princes...

which long since are consumed into dust.

Marry, Master Doctor,
now there's a sign of grace in you...

when you will confess the truth.

But such spirits as can lively resemble...

Alexander and his paramour,
shall appear before Your Grace.

Go to, Master Doctor,
let us see them presently.

Do you hear, Master Doctor?

You bring Alexander and his paramour
before the Emperor.

How then, sir?

In faith, that's as true
as Diana turned me into a stag.

No, sir. But when Actaeon died,
he left the horns for you.

Mephistophilis, begone.

Nay, and you go to conjuring, I'll be gone!

I'll meet with you anon
for interrupting me so.

Here they be, my gracious lord.

Master Doctor...

I heard this lady, while she lived...

had a mole in her neck.

- How shall I know whether it be so or not?
- Your Highness may boldly go and see.

I see it plain.

Will it please Your Grace
to send for the knight...

that was so pleasant with me here of late?

Call forth the Knight of Hallgart.

The Knight of Hallgart.

How now, Sir Knight.

I had thought thou had'st been a bachelor...

but now I see thou hast a wife...

that not only gives thee horns,
but makes thee wear them.

Feel on thy head.

Thou damned wretch and execrable dog...

bred in the concave
of some monstrous rock.

How darest thou thus abuse a gentleman?

- Villain, I say undo what thou hast done.
- Not so fast, sir, make no haste...

but good, are you remembered...

how you crossed me in my conference
with the Emperor?

I think I have met with you for it.

Good Master Doctor,
at my entreaty, release him.

He hath done penance sufficient.

My lord, not so much for the injury
he offered me in your presence...

as to delight you with some mirth...

hath Faustus worthily requited
this injurious knight...

which, being all I desire,
I am content to release him of his horns...

and, Sir Knight...

hereafter speak well of scholars.

Mephistophilis...

transform him straight.

Sir Knight,
you have permission to withdraw.

Believe me, Master Doctor,
this merriment hath much pleased us.

My gracious lady,
I am glad it contents you so well.

Come, madam, let us in...

where we must well reward
this learned man...

for the great kindness
he hath showed to us.

And so we shall, my lord...

and, whilst we live,
rest beholding for this courtesy.

The restless course that time doth run
with calm and silent foot...

shortening my days and thread of vital life...

calls for the payment of my latest years.

I will drink deep of what remains.

Passing brave...

passing...

Give me wine, Mephistophilis.

- What day is this?
- 'Tis Holy Peter's day.

What's that to us?

I know you'd fain see the Pope
and take some part.

For the cause we are no common guests,
I choose his privy chamber for our use.

His privy chamber.

We'll be bold with his good cheer.

I hope His Holiness will bid us welcome.

I'm content to compass them some sport
and by their folly make us merriment.

Then charm me, that I may be invisible
and do whatever I please...

unseen by any whilst I stay in Rome.

Faustus, thou shalt.

Kneel down presently.

Pluto's blue fire and Hecate's tree...

with magic spells so compass thee...

that no eye may thy body see.

So, Faustus, do what thou wilt...

thou shalt not be discerned.

Amen.

My Lord of Lorraine,
wilt please you draw near?

My lord, this dainty dish
was sent me from the Bishop of Milan.

I thank you, sir.

How now!

Who snatched that dish from thee?

Will no man look?

My lord, it may be some ghost...

newly crept out of Purgatory,
come to beg a pardon of Your Holiness.

It may be so.

Friars...

prepare a dirge to lay the fury of this ghost.

We shall be cursed
with bell, book, and candle.

Bell, book, and candle.
Candle, book, and bell.

Forward and backward,
to curse Faustus to Hell!

Anon you shall hear a hog grunt,
a calf bleat, and an ass bray...

because it is Saint Peter's holiday.

Come, brethren, let's about our business
with good devotion.

Cursed be he that stole His Holiness' meat
from the table.

Cursed be he that struck His Holiness
a blow on the face.

Cursed be he that took Friar Sandelo
a blow on the pate.

Cursed be he that disturbeth our holy dirge.

Cursed be he that took away
His Holiness' wine.

Tell thou...

Saint Peter that!

I cannot eat but little meat

My stomach is not good

But sure I think that I can drink

With him that wears a hood

Though I go bare, take ye no care

I am nothing a-cold

I stuff my skin so full within

of jolly good ale and old

Back and side go bare, go bare

Both foot and hand go cold

But belly, God send thee good ale enough

Whether it be new or old

Come hither, landlord.

Another butt of sack for myself...

and these learned colleagues of mine.

No more sack, Master Doctor, no more.

No more sack, sirrah?

Until you have paid the sum of 30 crowns...

owed by yourself and your friends here.

What, I tell thee, knave,
keep a civil tongue in your head...

and pay due respect to my court...

or else I'll call up the Devil
and he bears thee off.

Now, Master Doctor, no more of your tricks.

- I want my money.
- He wants his money.

Tricks, I'll show you tricks, you lying knave!

Sot! Cuckold!

Master Doctor Faustus, wake up and listen.

Wake up!

Will you not wake? You son of a whore!

You conjuring knave, I'll make you wake!

Now, good Doctor...

turn mine host here, mine Lord Bountiful...

into the sack from whence he came.

Away, rogue!

What, doest think I am a vintner?

What art thou, Faustus...

but a man condemned to die?

To die.

What art thou, Faustus,
but a man condemned to die?

Thy fatal time doth draw to final end.

Despair doth drive distrust
into thy thoughts.

Confound these passions with a quiet sleep.

Tush, Christ did call the thief
upon the cross.

Then rest thee, Faustus...

quiet in conceit.

Did you say something, master?

Nothing, boy, nothing.

As you say, sir.

Some three of your young students
wait upon your honor.

You must dress.

Here, sir, here.

Wouldst have my worldly goods, boy?

Why, who would not, sir?

For whatsoever a man wants in this world,
Faustus can have.

All but that unconsidered light
that will not buy...

a poor man a small candle.

You've left me, sir.

Nay, it hath left me.
Therefore, take thou the rest.

Why, what's that, sir?

Why, nothing, sir.

You give me nothing, sir?

All my worldly goods.

I think my master means to die shortly...

for he hath given to me all his goods.

This way, gentlemen.

Your honored master, the doctor,
will receive you.

Gentlemen?

Master Doctor Faustus...

we have had conference about fair ladies...

which was the beautifullest
in all the world...

and have determined with ourselves...

that Helen of Greece
was the admirablest lady that ever lived.

Therefore, Master Doctor...

if you will do us that favor as to let us see
that peerless dame of Greece...

whom all the world admires for majesty...

we should think ourselves
much beholden unto you.

Gentlemen...

for that I know
your friendship is unfeigned...

and Faustus' custom is not to deny
the just requests of those...

that wish him well.

You shall behold
that peerless dame of Greece.

No otherwise for pomp and majesty...

as when Sir Paris
crossed the seas with her...

and brought the spoils from rich Dardania.

We thank you, sir...

- and indeed are most curious...
- Be silent, then...

for danger is in words.

Too simple is my wit to tell her praise...

whom all the world admires for majesty.

No marvel
though the angry Greeks pursued...

with ten years' war
the rape of such a queen...

whose heavenly beauty passeth all compare.

Since we have seen
the pride of Nature's works...

and only paragon of excellence...

let us depart.

Doctor Faustus...

that I might prevail to guide thy steps
unto the way of life...

break heart, drop blood,
and mingle it with tears.

Gentle Faustus, leave this damned art.

My sweet friend...

I feel thy words
to comfort my distressed soul.

Leave me awhile to ponder on my sins.

I go, sweet Faustus, but with heavy cheer...

fearing the ruin of thy hopeless soul.

Where art thou, Faustus?

Wretch, what hast thou done?

Damned are thou, Faustus, damned.

Despair and die!

Hell calls for right and with a roaring voice
cries, "Faustus, come!

"Thine hour is almost come!"

Faustus will come to do thee right.

Accursed Faustus...

where be mercy now?

I do repent and yet I do despair.

Hell strives with grace
for conquest in my breast.

What shall I do to shun the snares of death?

Thou traitor, Faustus.

I arrest thy soul for disobedience
to my sovereign lord.

Revolt, or I'll in piecemeal tear thy flesh.

Sweet Mephistophilis...

entreat thy lord
to pardon my unjust presumption...

and with my blood again I will confirm
my former vow I made to Lucifer.

Do it, then, quickly with unfeigned heart,
lest greater dangers do attend thy drift.

One thing, good servant...

let me crave of thee...

to glut the longing of my heart's desire.

That I may have unto my paramour
that heavenly Helen which of late I saw...

whose sweet embracings
may extinguish clean...

those thoughts that do dissuade me
from my vow.

This or what else thou shall desire
shall be performed...

in a twinkling of an eye.

Was this the face that launched
a thousand ships...

and burnt the topless towers of llium?

Come, Helen...

make me immortal...

with a kiss.

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'll be Paris and for love of thee
instead of Troy shall Wittenberg be sacked.

I will combat with weak Menelaus
and wear thy colors on my plumed crest.

Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel...

and then return to Helen...

for a kiss.

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.

- Gentlemen!
- What ails, Faustus?

My sweet chamber-fellows,
had I lived with you...

then had I lived still, but now I die eternally.

Comes he not?

What means, Faustus?

Belike he is grown into some sickness
by being over-solitary.

If it be so, we'll have physicians to cure him.

'Tis but a surfeit. Never fear, man.

A surfeit of deadly sin
that hath damned both body and soul.

Yet, Faustus, look up to Heaven.

Remember God's mercies are infinite.

But Faustus' offence
can never be pardoned.

The serpent that tempted Eve may be saved,
but not Faustus.

Gentlemen, hear me with patience
and tremble not at my speeches.

Though my heart pants and quivers...

to remember I've been a student here
these 30 years...

would I had never seen Wittenberg...

never read book.

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 itself.

Heaven, the seat of God...

the throne of the blessed,
the kingdom of joy...

and must remain in Hell for ever.

Hell for ever!

Sweet friends, what shall become of Faustus
being in Hell for ever?

Yet, Faustus, call on God.

On God, whom Faustus hath abjured?

On God, whom Faustus hath blasphemed?

My God, I would weep...

but the Devil draws in my tears.

Gush forth blood, yea, life and soul!

He stays my tongue.

I would lift up my arms...

but see...

they hold them.

Who, Faustus?

Lucifer and Mephistophilis.

Gentlemen...

I gave them my soul for my cunning.

- God forbid!
- God forbade it, indeed...

but Faustus hath done it.

For the vain pleasure of 24 years...

hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity.

I writ them a bill with mine own blood...

the date is expired...

the time will come...

and he will fetch me.

Why did not Faustus tell us of this before,
that divines might have prayed for thee?

Oft have I thought to have done so...

but the Devil threatened to tear me in pieces
if I named God...

to fetch both body and soul
if I once gave ear to divinity...

and now it is too late.

Gentlemen, away...

lest you perish with me.

What shall we do to save Faustus?

Talk not of me,
but save yourselves and depart.

God will strengthen me.

I will stay with Faustus.

Tempt not God, sweet friend...

but let us into the next room
and there pray for him.

Pray for me.

What noise soever ye hear,
come not unto me...

for nothing can rescue me.

Pray thou...

and we will pray
that God may have mercy upon thee.

Gentlemen...

farewell.

If I live till morning, I'll visit you. If not...

Faustus...

is gone to Hell.

Faustus, farewell.

Damned.

Come to thine enticed damnation.

The Devil will tear thy flesh.

The Devil will tear thee to pieces.

Faustus...

now hast thou but one bare hour to live.

Then thou must he 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.

The stars move still...

time runs...

the clock will strike...

the Devil will come...

and Faustus must be damned!

I'll leap up to my God!

Who pulls me down?

See where Christ's blood streams
in the firmament!

One drop would save my soul, half a drop.

My Christ!

Rend not my heart for naming of my Christ!

Yet will I call on him.

Spare me, Lucifer!

Where is it now?

'Tis gone!

See where God stretches out his arms
and bends his ireful brows.

Mountains and hills...

come and fall on me
and hide me from the heavy wrath of God!

No.

Then I will headlong run into the earth.

Earth...

gape!

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.

Half the hour is passed.
It will all be passed anon.

Oh, 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 1,000 years,
100,000, 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?

Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were
that 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.

Cursed be the parents that engendered me!

No, Faustus, curse thyself. Curse Lucifer...

that hath deprived thee
of the joys of Heaven.

It strikes.

Now, body, turn to air...

or Lucifer will bear thee quick to Hell!

Soul, be changed into little water drops
and fall into the ocean, ne'er to be found.

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!

A year, a month, a week, a natural day...

that Faustus may repent and save his soul.

Faustus, too late!

Too late not to deceive.

Whither shall I fly?

If unto God, he'll throw me down to Hell!

You are damned, Faustus!

Too late, Faustus!

See where Christ's blood streams
in the firmament!

One drop would save my soul, half a drop.

My Christ!

The Devil will tear thy flesh!

Too late, too late to repent!

I call thee doomed!

Eternal damnation!

Condemned to die!

Condemned to die!

The reward of sin is death.