Third Sch. The devil whom Faustus served hath torn him thus: For twixt the hours of twelve and one, methought, I heard him shriek and call aloud for help; For wondrous knowledge in our German schools, And all the scholars, clothed in mourning black, Chorus. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, That sometime grew within this learned man: Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits [The growing horrors of Faustus are awfully marked by the hours and half-hours as they expire and bring him nearer and nearer to the exactment of his dire compact. It is indeed an agony and bloody sweat. Marlowe is said to have been tainted with atheistical positions, to have denied God and the Trinity. To such a genius the History of Faustus must have been delectable food: to wander in fields where curiosity is forbidden to go, to approach the dark gulf near enough to look in, to be busied in speculations which are the rottenest part of the core of the fruit that fell from the Tree of Knowledge. Barabas the Jew, and Faustus the Conjurer, are offsprings of a mind which at least delighted to dally with interdicted subjects. They both talk a language which a believer would have been tender of putting into the mouth of a character though but in fiction. But the holiest minds have sometimes not thought it blameable to counterfeit impiety in the person of another, to bring Vice in upon the stage speaking her own dialect, and, themselves being armed with an unction of self-confident impunity, have not scrupled to handle and touch that familiarly, which would be death to others. Milton in the person of Satan has started speculations hardier than any which the feeble armoury of the atheist ever furnished; and the precise strait-laced Richardson has strengthened Vice, from the mouth of Lovelace, with entangling sophistries and abstruse pleas against her adversary Virtue, which Sedley, Villiers, and Rochester, wanted depth of libertinism sufficient to have invented.] THE HOG HATH LOST HIS PEARL; A COMEDY, BY ROBERT TAILOR. Carracus appoints his friend Albert to meet him before the break of day at the house of the old Lord Wealthy, whose daughter Maria has consented to a stolen match with Carracus. Albert, arriving before his friend, is mistaken by Maria for Carracus, and takes advantage of the night to wrong his friend. Enter ALBERT, solus. Alb. This is the green, and this the chamber-window; And see, the appointed light stands in the casement, The ladder of ropes set orderly, Yet he that should ascend, slow in his haste, Is not as yet come hither. Were it any friend that lives but Carracus, And be so slack! 'sfoot, it doth move my patience. Not have watch'd night by night for such a prize? Thy faith to him whose only friendship's worth Thou canst not live without his good, He is and was ever as thine own heart's blood. [Maria beckons him from the window. 'Sfoot, see, she beckons me for Carracus. Shall my base purity cause me neglect Spite of my timorous conscience. I am in person, It may be acted and ne'er call'd in question. Mar. (calls) Hist! Carracus, ascend: All is as clear as in our hearts we wish'd. [Albert ascends, and being on the top of the ladder, puts out the candle, Mar. O love, why do you so? Alb. I heard the steps of some coming this way. To lend his trusty help to our departure. Mar. Come then, dear Carracus, thou now shalt rest I have so often tried; even now, Seeing thee come to that most honour'd end, Through all the dangers which black night presents, [They go in Enter CARRACUs, to his appointment. To make me happy whilst I live on earth; This is the green; how dark the night appears! She fear'd to set a light, and only hearkeneth Thinking to enter in the ears of her, Yet reason tells us, parents are o'erseen, Their child's affections, and control that love I'll go into the next field, where my friend ALBERT descending from MARIA. Mar. But do not stay. What if you find not Albert ? Alb. Sooner I'll deceive My soul-and so I fear I have. Mar. At your first call I will descend. Alb. Till when, this touch of lips be the true pledge Of Carracus' constant true devoted love. Mar. Be sure you stay not long; farewell. [Exit, [aside. I cannot lend an ear to hear you part. [Maria goes in. Alb. But you did lend a hand unto my entrance. [He descends Alb. (solus) How have I wrong'd my friend, my faithful friend! Robb'd him of what's more precious than his blood, Of his soul-joying mistress! the fruition of whose bed Wanders this cold night through the unsheltering field appearance, But am a devil indeed, for so this deed Of wronged love and friendship rightly makes me. But like a wretch hides him to dig his grave; Yet, Albert, be not reasonless to endanger Who can detect The crime of thy licentious appetite ? I hear one's pace; 'tis surely Carracus. Enter CARRACUS. Car. Not find my friend! sure some malignant planet Alb. 'Tis wronged Carracus by Albert's baseness: Car. The horses stand at the appointed place, And night's dark coverture makes firm our safety. |