works-by-christopher-marlowe

"Virtue is the fount whence honour springs."

"Virtue solely is the sum of glory And fashions men with true nobility."

"His Second Part, Where death cuts off the progress of his pomp And murderous Fates throw all his triumphs down."

"Well, bark, ye dogs; I'll bridle all your tongues."

"...In vain, I see, men worship Mahomet: My sword hath sent millions of Turks to hell, Slew all his priests, his kinsmen, and his friends, And yet I live untouch'd by Mahomet. There is a God, full of revenging wrath, From whom the thunder and the lightning breaks, Whose scourge I am, and him will I obey."

"Come, let us march against the powers of heaven, And set black streamers in the firmament, To signify the slaughter of the gods."

"Tamburlaine, the Scourge of God, must die."

"Let Earth and Heaven his timeless death deplore, For both their worths shall equal him no more."

"Do you know that the Barbican Center Theater of London has censored Tamburlaine the Great, the drama written in 1587 by Christopher Marlowe? At a certain point of the drama, remember, Christopher Marlowe makes Tamburlaine burn the Koran. While the Koran burns, he also makes him challenge the Prophet by shouting: «Now, if you have the power, come down and make a miracle!». And, given the fact that these words and the Koran burning infuriated local Muslims, the Barbican Theater has cut off the whole scene."

"When all the world dissolves, And every creature shall be purified, All places shall be hell that are not heaven."

"Have I not made blind Homer sing to me?"

"My heart's so harden'd, I cannot repent."

"Oh gentle Faustus, leave this damned art, This magic, that will charm thy soul to hell, And quite bereave thee of salvation. Though thou hast now offended like a man, Do not persever in it like a devil."

"Accursed Faustus, wretch, what hast thou done? 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?"

"Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet 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."

"O, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars."

"Pray for me! and what noise soever ye hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me."

"All: God forbid! Faustus: God forbade it indeed, but Faustus hath done it."

"Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, And then thou must be damn'd 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."

"Live and die in Aristotle's works."

"Ay, Faustus, now hast thou no hope of heaven Therefore despair! Think only upon hell, For that must be thy mansion, there to dwell."

"No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer That hath deprived thee of the joys of Heaven. Oh, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell! O soul, be chang'd into little water-drops And fall into the ocean, ne'er be found. My God, 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!—ah, Mephistopheles!""

"And now, poor soul, must thy good angel leave thee, The jaws of hell are open to receive thee."

"Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burnèd is Apollo's laurel bough, That sometime grew within this learnèd man. 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."

"From jigging veins of rhyming mother wits, And such conceits as clownage keeps in pay, We'll lead you to the stately tent of war, Where you shall hear the Scythian Tamburlaine Threatening the world with high astounding terms, And scourging kingdoms with his conquering sword. View but his picture in this tragic glass, And then applaud his fortunes as you please."

"Our swords shall play the orators for us."

"Sooner shall the sun fall from his sphere Than Tamburlaine be slain or overcome."

"Accurst be he that first invented war."

"Is it not brave to be a king, Techelles! Usumcasanë and Theridamas, Is it not passing brave to be a king?"

"Nature, that fram'd us of four elements Warring within our breasts for regiment, Doth teach us all to have aspiring minds: Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous Architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless Spheres, Will us to wear ourselves, and never rest, Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, That perfect bliss and sole felicity, The sweet fruition of an earthly crown."

"O lente, lente currite, noctis equi! The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The Devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd. O, I'll leap up to my God! Who pulls me down? See, see, where Christ's blood streams in the firmament! One drop would save my soul, half a drop: ah, my Christ."

"If we say that we have no sin We deceive ourselves, and there is no truth in us. Why then, belike, we must sin, And consequently die. Ay, we must die an everlasting death."

"What doctrine call you this, Che serà, serà: What will be, shall be? Divinity, adieu!"

"O 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."

"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?"

"Unhappy spirits that fell with Lucifer, Conspir'd against our God with Lucifer, And are for ever damn'd with Lucifer."

"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 joy of Heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss?"

"Now, Faustus, must thou needs be damned? And canst thou not be saved? What boots it then to think on God or heaven? Away with such vain fancies and despair, Despair in God and trust in Beelzebub. Now go not backward. No, Faustus, be resolute. Why waverest thou? Oh, something soundeth in mine ears Abjure this magic, turn to God again."

"Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib'd In one self place; but where we are is hell, And where hell is, there must we ever be."