ACT ONE
At rise, we see the portico of
FAUSTUS ’
s home. Large double doors open onto a room hung with tinsel and streamers, a party scene gotten up as a fantasy
.
FAUSTUS ’
s
WIFE
is involved in decoration
. FAUSTUS
enters and looks around. Pause. He holds a sheet of paper in his hand
.
FAUSTUS: It seems a very dream.
WIFE: It is a dream. Delightful, as it is temporary.
FAUSTUS: Temporary.
WIFE: How otherwise?
FAUSTUS: To what do you refer?
WIFE: Have I mistook you?
FAUSTUS: What is it you indict of transience?
WIFE: Of transience—the décor.
FAUSTUS: The décor, of course.
WIFE: Which, you remark, will serve but the day’s brief turn …
FAUSTUS: … of course …
WIFE: … divert the child, and then …
FAUSTUS: How is the boy?
WIFE: He would be thrilled to find you at this unaccustomed hour. What has released you … ?
FAUSTUS: … and where is Fabian … ?
WIFE: I believe he marshals the festivities. I beg your pardon, are you anxious for his news?
FAUSTUS: What news?
WIFE: Today is Friday …
FAUSTUS: Yes …
WIFE: He generally brings the gazette. Are you cold, Faustus? The day is cold.
FAUSTUS: The chill livens the mind. Life grows in the cold. Does it not?
WIFE: It grows however you should bid.
FAUSTUS: My bidding cannot alter its growth.
WIFE: But it shall affect how I perceive it.
FAUSTUS: I believe I have completed my work. (
Of the paper in his hand
)
WIFE: What… ?
FAUSTUS: I believe I have completed it.
WIFE: Your most sanguine of expectations could not put the end sooner than years.
FAUSTUS: So indeed I thought.
WIFE: Then how … ?
FAUSTUS: It rests in the rendition of the false. Which, like a bridal veil, could not be lifted by force—solely through devotion. (
He hands her the paper
.)
WIFE: I cannot follow it. The argument’s beyond me.
FAUSTUS: Then take me on faith, and pardon me.
WIFE: … for what conceivable sin?
FAUSTUS: … to leach attention from another’s feast. How is the child?
WIFE: He loves you. You repeat yourself.
FAUSTUS: Then you may claim a forfeit.
WIFE: Your soul.
FAUSTUS: Have I not given it?
WIFE: How can you live without your soul?
FAUSTUS: It flourishes without me. While within it was bound by my vice, and vanity each step for its supposed cultivation only brought it blight. Since consecrated, I observe it to grow strong. Its reproofs are of the most gentle, and its instructions delight.
WIFE: What has it taught you?
FAUSTUS: To yield, to wait, to hope, to believe. In fine, it has taught gratitude.
WIFE: Smile, then, on your faults, as those do who love you. For all must wax and wane.
FAUSTUS: Indeed?
WIFE: Must I quote you the Moon?
FAUSTUS: Oh, simple and good soul, are you not my salvation?
WIFE: As you are mine.
FAUSTUS: Who counted himself honored merely to be your support.
WIFE: Do we not profit, nay, thrive, nay, delight in your wisdom?
FAUSTUS: It is derivative.
WIFE: Must not all wisdom be?
FAUSTUS: Must it?
WIFE: As it derives from God. Our excellence is not in Creation, which is the Lord’s, but in our humble wonderment.
FAUSTUS: Which you indict me of?
WIFE: I do.
FAUSTUS: You honor me.
WIFE: I must see to the boy.
FAUSTUS: Stay.
WIFE: He is somewhat overborne by the excitement.
FAUSTUS: Stay. This one moment. Anchor me.
WIFE: This may suffice. (
Hands him a sheet of paper
)
FAUSTUS: What is it?
WIFE: His gift to you.
FAUSTUS: ’Tis his day for gifts.
WIFE: Does he not long to pace you in all things? Who are his god? You fret, he frets; you work, he mimics you, you prepare a gift, so must he … and his mind, formed like yours, revolves, ever on the one planetary theme.
FAUSTUS: Whose name is?
WIFE: He pines for you.
FAUSTUS: … you give him to understand … my work …
WIFE: Which names his enemy, but cannot diminish his longing.
FAUSTUS: My sweet son.
WIFE: We have all fretted.
FAUSTUS: Fretted for me?
WIFE:
With
you, say, rather—
with
you—in your seclusion.
FAUSTUS: Yes,
At rise, we see the portico of
FAUSTUS ’
s home. Large double doors open onto a room hung with tinsel and streamers, a party scene gotten up as a fantasy
.
FAUSTUS ’
s
WIFE
is involved in decoration
. FAUSTUS
enters and looks around. Pause. He holds a sheet of paper in his hand
.
FAUSTUS: It seems a very dream.
WIFE: It is a dream. Delightful, as it is temporary.
FAUSTUS: Temporary.
WIFE: How otherwise?
FAUSTUS: To what do you refer?
WIFE: Have I mistook you?
FAUSTUS: What is it you indict of transience?
WIFE: Of transience—the décor.
FAUSTUS: The décor, of course.
WIFE: Which, you remark, will serve but the day’s brief turn …
FAUSTUS: … of course …
WIFE: … divert the child, and then …
FAUSTUS: How is the boy?
WIFE: He would be thrilled to find you at this unaccustomed hour. What has released you … ?
FAUSTUS: … and where is Fabian … ?
WIFE: I believe he marshals the festivities. I beg your pardon, are you anxious for his news?
FAUSTUS: What news?
WIFE: Today is Friday …
FAUSTUS: Yes …
WIFE: He generally brings the gazette. Are you cold, Faustus? The day is cold.
FAUSTUS: The chill livens the mind. Life grows in the cold. Does it not?
WIFE: It grows however you should bid.
FAUSTUS: My bidding cannot alter its growth.
WIFE: But it shall affect how I perceive it.
FAUSTUS: I believe I have completed my work. (
Of the paper in his hand
)
WIFE: What… ?
FAUSTUS: I believe I have completed it.
WIFE: Your most sanguine of expectations could not put the end sooner than years.
FAUSTUS: So indeed I thought.
WIFE: Then how … ?
FAUSTUS: It rests in the rendition of the false. Which, like a bridal veil, could not be lifted by force—solely through devotion. (
He hands her the paper
.)
WIFE: I cannot follow it. The argument’s beyond me.
FAUSTUS: Then take me on faith, and pardon me.
WIFE: … for what conceivable sin?
FAUSTUS: … to leach attention from another’s feast. How is the child?
WIFE: He loves you. You repeat yourself.
FAUSTUS: Then you may claim a forfeit.
WIFE: Your soul.
FAUSTUS: Have I not given it?
WIFE: How can you live without your soul?
FAUSTUS: It flourishes without me. While within it was bound by my vice, and vanity each step for its supposed cultivation only brought it blight. Since consecrated, I observe it to grow strong. Its reproofs are of the most gentle, and its instructions delight.
WIFE: What has it taught you?
FAUSTUS: To yield, to wait, to hope, to believe. In fine, it has taught gratitude.
WIFE: Smile, then, on your faults, as those do who love you. For all must wax and wane.
FAUSTUS: Indeed?
WIFE: Must I quote you the Moon?
FAUSTUS: Oh, simple and good soul, are you not my salvation?
WIFE: As you are mine.
FAUSTUS: Who counted himself honored merely to be your support.
WIFE: Do we not profit, nay, thrive, nay, delight in your wisdom?
FAUSTUS: It is derivative.
WIFE: Must not all wisdom be?
FAUSTUS: Must it?
WIFE: As it derives from God. Our excellence is not in Creation, which is the Lord’s, but in our humble wonderment.
FAUSTUS: Which you indict me of?
WIFE: I do.
FAUSTUS: You honor me.
WIFE: I must see to the boy.
FAUSTUS: Stay.
WIFE: He is somewhat overborne by the excitement.
FAUSTUS: Stay. This one moment. Anchor me.
WIFE: This may suffice. (
Hands him a sheet of paper
)
FAUSTUS: What is it?
WIFE: His gift to you.
FAUSTUS: ’Tis his day for gifts.
WIFE: Does he not long to pace you in all things? Who are his god? You fret, he frets; you work, he mimics you, you prepare a gift, so must he … and his mind, formed like yours, revolves, ever on the one planetary theme.
FAUSTUS: Whose name is?
WIFE: He pines for you.
FAUSTUS: … you give him to understand … my work …
WIFE: Which names his enemy, but cannot diminish his longing.
FAUSTUS: My sweet son.
WIFE: We have all fretted.
FAUSTUS: Fretted for me?
WIFE:
With
you, say, rather—
with
you—in your seclusion.
FAUSTUS: Yes,
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