You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute,
And now and then stab, when occasion serves.

Christopher Marlowe


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Till swollen with cunning, of a self-conceit,
His waxen wings did mount above his reach,
And, melting, Heavens conspir'd his overthrow.

Christopher Marlowe

Stichwörter: conceit-faustus-pride



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Faustus: Stay, Mephistopheles, and tell me, what good will
my soul do thy lord?

Mephistopheles: Enlarge his kingdom.

Faustus: Is that the reason he tempts us thus?

Mephistopheles: Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris.
(It is a comfort to the wretched to have companions in misery.)

Christopher Marlowe

Stichwörter: hell lucifer damnation mephistopheles faustus



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Mephistopheles: 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 ten thousand hells
In being deprived of everlasting bliss?

Christopher Marlowe

Stichwörter: religion hell damned



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Mephistopheles: 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 must we ever be.
And, to conclude, when all the world dissolves,
And every creature shall be purified,
All places shall be hell that is not heaven.

Christopher Marlowe

Stichwörter: hell damnation purgatory mephistopheles



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Had I as many souls as there be stars, I'd give them all for Mephistopheles!

Christopher Marlowe


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Unhappy Persia, that in former age
Hast been the seat of mighty Conquerors,
That in their prowesse and their policies, Have triumph over Africa.

Christopher Marlowe

Stichwörter: persia



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FAUSTUS. [Stabbing his arm.] Lo, 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!

Christopher Marlowe


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If I be cruel and grow tyrannous,
Now let them thank themselves, and rue too late.

Christopher Marlowe

Stichwörter: edward-the-second



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That perfect bliss and sole felicity, the sweet fruition of an earthly crown.

Christopher Marlowe


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