tus is the
personification of 'thirst for knowledge' or of 'intellectual _virtu_',
just as Tamburlaine personifies, for them, the 'thirst for power' or
'physical _virtu_'. Surely, if this is so, Marlowe has failed absolutely
in his presentment of the character; in which case the play may be
condemned out of hand, seeing that the character of Faustus is its all
in all. But the more we study Marlowe's other principal figures, the
more convinced we become of his absorption in them while they are in the
making. With Tamburlaine he himself grows terrible and glorious; the
spirit of pride and conquest colours every phrase, speech and
description, so that, as we have pointed out, the character of
Tamburlaine is masterfully consistent and attuned to the purpose of the
play. It is better, then, to examine the character of Faustus, as
revealed in his desires, requests, and prominent actions, and thence
educe the purpose of the play, than, by deciding upon this purpose, to
discover that the central figure is in continual discord with it.
Faustus is introduced to us by the Chorus at the commencement of the
play as a scholar of repute, 'glutted now with learning's golden gifts,'
and about to turn aside to the study of necromancy. Accordingly he
appears in his study rejecting logic as no end in itself, law as
servile, medicine because he has exhausted its possible limits, divinity
because it tells him that the reward of sin is death. Upon sin his mind
is set all the time, so that the reminder from Jerome's Bible annoys
him. He flings the book aside because it warns him of what he affects to
disbelieve and would be glad to forget. Magic wins him by its unknown
possibilities 'of profit and delight, of power, of honour, and
omnipotence'.
Lest we should suppose that his choice has anything heroic in it, that
he is deliberately accepting a terrible debt of eternal torment in
exchange for what necromancy can give, we are informed that he has no
belief in hell or future pain, that to him men's souls are trifles. Deep
down in his conscience he has a fear of 'damnation', which only makes
itself felt, however, in unexalted moments. Such thoughts are set aside
as 'mere old wives' tales' in the triumphant hour of his signing the
contract.
With curiosity and longing, then, he enters unshudderingly into a
bargain that will give him what he seeks. We can readily discover, from
his own lips, what that is. He exults over the prospect of having
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