Doctor Faustus

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Rodwell and Martin, 1816
 

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Стр. 345 - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew"d, so sanded; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-kneed and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each.
Стр. 30 - 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...
Стр. 80 - Was this the face that launched 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. Here will I dwell, for Heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.
Стр. 83 - Oft have I thought to have done so: but the Devil threatened to tear me in pieces if I named God; to fetch...
Стр. 16 - ... like women, or unwedded maids, Shadowing more beauty in their airy brows Than have the white breasts of the queen of love: From Venice shall they drag huge argosies, And from America the golden fleece That yearly stuffs old Philip's treasury; If learned Faustus will be resolute. Faust. Valdes, as resolute am I in this As thou to live : therefore object it not.
Стр. 87 - O, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air, Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell. (Thunder and lightning. O soul, be changed into little water-drops, And fall into the ocean- — ne'er be found.
Стр. 80 - 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.
Стр. 11 - Nor in the pomp of proud audacious deeds, Intends our Muse to vaunt his heavenly verse: Only this, gentles, — we must now perform The form of Faustus
Стр. 86 - 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 ! O lente, lente, currite noctis equi! The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The Devil will come, and Faustus must be damned.
Стр. 41 - From Paris next, coasting the realm of France, We saw the river Maine fall into Rhine, Whose banks are set with groves of fruitful vines...

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