Anonymous / Marlowe, Christopher · published 1604 · first performed or written 1592 [1592-1593] (Annals) tragedy · Unknown unassigned nearest T36 Hell, Furies and the language of punishm · 439 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T36: hell, earth, gods, death, ghosts, blood, bloody, heaven, night, ghost.
Ah stay good Faustus, stay thy desperate steps, I see an Angel hovers o'er thy head, And with a viol full of precious grace, Offers to power the same into thy soul, Then call for mercy and avoid despair. Ah my sweet friend, I feel thy words To comfort my distressed soul, Leave me a while to ponder on my sins. I go sweet Faustus, but with heavy cheer, fearing the ruin of thy hopeless soul. Accursed Faustus, where is 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 piece-meal tear thy flesh. Sweet Mephastophilis, 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 danger do attend thy drift. Torment sweet friend, that base and crooked age, That durst dissuade me from thy Lucifer, With greatest torments that our hell affords. His faith is great, I cannot touch his soul, But what I may afflict his body with, I will attempt, which is but little worth. One thing, good servant, let me crave of thee To glut the longing of my heart's desire, That I might have unto my paramour, That heavenly Helen which I saw of late, Whose sweet embracings may extinguish clean These thoughts s that do dissuade me from my vow, And keep mine oath I made to Lucifer. Faustus, this, or what else thou shalt desire, shallbe performed in twinkling of an eye. Was this the face that launched a thousand ships? And burned the topless Towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss: Her lips sucks forth my soul, see where it flies: Come Helen, come give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for heaven be in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena: I will be Pacis, and for love of thee, Instead of Troy shall Wertenberg be sacked, And I will combat with weak Menelaus, And wear thy colours on my plumed Crest: Yea I will wound Achilles in the heel, And then return to Helen for a kiss. O thou art fairer then the evening air, Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars, Brighter art thou then flaming Iupiter, When he appeared to hapless Semele, More lovely than the monarch of the sky , And none but thou shalt be my paramour.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Ah stay good Faustus, stay thy desperate steps, I sée an Angell houers ore thy head, And with a violl full of precious grace, Offers to powre the same into thy soule, Then call for mercie and auoyd dispaire. Ah my swéete friend, I féele thy words To comfort my distressed soule, Leaue me a while to ponder on my sinnes. I goe swéete Faustus, but with heauy cheare, fearing the ruine of thy hopelesse soule. Accursed Faustus, where is mercie now? I do repent, and yet I do dispaire: Hell striues with grace for conquest in my breast, What shal I do to shun the snares of death? Thou traitor Faustus, I arrest thy soule For disobedience to my soueraigne Lord, Reuolt, or Ile in peece-meale teare thy flesh. Sweete Mephastophilis, intreate thy Lord To pardon my vniust presumption, And with my blood againe I wil confirme My former vow I made to Lucifer. Do it then quickely, with vnfained heart, Lest greater danger do attend thy drift. Torment sweete friend, that base and crooked age, That durst disswade me from thy Lucifer, With greatest torments that our hel affoords. His faith is great, I cannot touch his soule, But what I may afflict his body with, I wil attempt, which is but little worth. One thing, good seruant, let me craue of thée To glut the longing of my hearts desire, That I might haue vnto my paramour, That heauenly Helen which I saw of late, Whose swéete imbracings may extinguish cleane These thought s that do disswade me from my vow, And kéepe mine oath I made to Lucifer. Faustus, this, or what else thou shalt desire, Shalbe performde in twinckling of an eie. Was this the face that lancht a thousand shippes? And burnt the toplesse Towres of Ilium? Swéete Helen, make me immortall with a kisse: Her lips suckes forth my soule, see where it flies: Come Helen, come giue mée my soule againe. Here wil I dwel, for heauen be in these lips, And all is drosse that is not Helena: I wil be Pacis, and for loue of thée, Instéede of Troy shal Wertenberge be sackt, And I wil combate with weake Menclaus, And weare thy colours on my plumed Crest: Yea I wil wound Achillis in the héele, And then returne to Helen for a kisse. O thou art fairer the the euening aire, Cla in the beauty of a thousand starres, Brighter art thou then flaming Iupiter, hen he appeard to haplesse Semele, Moe louely then the monarke of the sie , And none but thou shalt be my param.