Wednesday
The death of Edgar Allan Poe on October 7, 1849 has remained mysterious: the circumstances leading up to it are uncertain and the cause of death is disputed. On October 3, Poe was found delirious on the streets of Baltimore, Maryland, "in great distress, and ... in need of immediate assistance", according to the man who found him, Joseph W. Walker. He was taken to the Washington College Hospital, where he died at 5 a.m. on Sunday, October 7. Poe was never coherent enough to explain how he came to be in this condition.
Much of the extant information about the last few days of Poe's life comes from his attending physician, Dr. John Joseph Moran, though his credibility is questionable. Poe was buried after a small funeral at the back of Westminster Hall and Burying Ground, but his remains were later moved to a larger monument in 1875. It has been questioned if the correct corpse was moved. The 1875 monument also marks the burial place of Poe's wife, Virginia, and his mother-in-law, Maria. Theories as to what caused Poe's death include suicide, murder, cholera, rabies, syphilis and that Poe was a victim of cooping. Evidence of the influence of alcohol is strongly disputed.
After Poe's death, Rufus Wilmot Griswold wrote his obituary under the pseudonym "Ludwig". Griswold, who became the literary executor of Poe's estate, was actually a rival of Poe and later published his first full biography, depicting him as a depraved, drunk, drug-addled madman. Much of the evidence for this image of Poe is believed to have been forged by Griswold, and though friends of Poe denounced it, this interpretation had lasting impact.
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Sonnet 130
Thursday
Description of the restless state of a lover, with suit to his lady to rue on his dying heart
Once have the winds the trees despoiled clean,
And once again begins their cruelness ;
Since I have hid under my breast the harm
That never shall recover healthfulness.
The winter's hurt recovers with the warm ;
The parched green restored is with shade ;
What warmth, alas ! may serve for to disarm
The frozen heart, that mine in flame hath made ?
What cold again is able to restore
My fresh green years, that wither thus and fade ?
Alas ! I see nothing hath hurt so sore
But Time, in time, reduceth a return :
In time my harm increaseth more and more,
And seems to have my cure always in scorn.
Strange kinds of death in life that I do try !
At hand, to melt ; far off in flame to burn.
And like as time list to my cure apply,
So doth each place my comfort clean refuse.
All thing alive, that seeth the heavens with eye,
With cloak of night, may cover, and excuse
It self from travail of the day's unrest,
Save I, alas ! against all others use,
That then stir up the torments of my breast ;
And curse each star as causer of my fate.
And when the sun hath eke the dark opprest,
And brought the day, it doth nothing abate
The travails of mine endless smart and pain.
For then, as one that hath the light in hate,
I wish for night, more covertly to plain ;
And me withdraw from every haunted place,
Lest by my chere my chance appear too plain.
And in my mind I measure pace by pace,
To seek the place where I myself had lost,
That day that I was tangled in the lace,
In seeming slack, that knitteth ever most.
But never yet the travail of my thought,
Of better state, could catch a cause to boast.
For if I found, some time that I have sought,
Those stars by whom I trusted of the port,
My sails do fall, and I advance right nought ;
As anchor'd fast my spirits do all resort
To stand agazed, and sink in more and more 1
The deadly harm which she doth take in sport.
Lo ! if I seek, how I do find my sore !
And if I flee, I carry with me still
The venom'd shaft, which doth his force restore
By haste of flight ; and I may plain my fill
Unto myself, unless this careful song
Print in your heart some parcel of my tene. 2
For I, alas ! in silence all too long,
Of mine old hurt yet feel the wound but green.
Rue on my Life ; or else your cruel wrong
Shall well appear, and by my death be seen.
1 To stand at gaze and suck in more and more.
MSS. cited by Dr. Nott.
2 i.e. Sorrow.
Friday
Cordelia's portion
Ford Madox Brown
Oil on canvas
size unknown
Lady Lever Art Gallery
Port Sunlight, Merseyside.
LEAR
In the meantime I'll get down to my real business.—Hand me that map over there.—I hereby announce that I've divided my kingdom into three parts, which I'm handing over to the younger generation so I can enjoy a little rest and peace of mind in my old age.—Cornwall and Albany, my loving sons-in-law, I now want to announce publicly what each of my daughters will inherit, to avoid hostilities after I die. The two great princes of France and Burgundy, vying for the hand of my youngest Cordelia, have been at my court a long time and will soon have their answers.—My daughters, since I'm about to give up my throne and the worries that go along with it, tell me which one of you loves me most, so that I can give my largest gift to the one who deserves it most.—Goneril, my oldest daughter, you speak first.
GONERIL
Sir, I love you more than words can say. I love you more than eyesight, space, and freedom, beyond wealth or anything of value. I love you as much as life itself, and as much as status, health, beauty, or honor. I love you as much as any child has ever loved her father, with a love too deep to be spoken of. I love you more than any answer to the question “How much?”
CORDELIA
(to herself) What will I say? I can only love and be silent.
LEAR
I give you all this land, from this line to that one—dense forests, fertile fields, rivers rich with fish, wide meadows. This land will belong to your and Albany's children forever.—And now what does my second daughter Regan, the wife of Cornwall, have to say? Tell me.
REGAN
Sir, I'm made of the same stuff as my sister and consider myself just as good as she is. She's described my feelings of love for you precisely, but her description falls a little short of the truth. I reject completely any joy except my love for you, and I find that only your majesty's love makes me happy.
CORDELIA
(to herself) Poor me, what am I going to say now? But I'm not poor in love—my love is bigger than my words are.
LEAR
You and your heirs hereby receive this large third of our lovely kingdom, no smaller in area or value than what I gave Goneril.—Now, you, my youngest daughter, my joy, courted by the rich rulers of France and Burgundy, what can you tell me that will make me give you a bigger part of my kingdom than I gave your sisters? Speak.
CORDELIA
Nothing, my lord.
LEAR
Nothing?
CORDELIA
Nothing.
LEAR
Come on, “nothing” will get you nothing. Try again.
CORDELIA
I'm unlucky. I don't have a talent for putting my heart's feelings into words. I love you as a child should love her father, neither more nor less.
LEAR
What are you saying, Cordelia? Revise your statement, or you may damage your inheritance.
CORDELIA
My lord, you brought me up and loved me, and I'm giving back just as I should: I obey you, love you, and honor you. How can my sisters speak the truth when they say they love only you? Don't they love their husbands too? Hopefully when I get married, I'll give my husband half my love and half my sense of duty. I'm sure I'll never get married in the way my sisters say they're married, loving their father only.
LEAR
But do you mean what you're saying?
CORDELIA
Yes, my lord.
LEAR
So young and so cruel?
CORDELIA
So young, my lord, and honest.
LEAR
Then that's the way it'll be. The truth will be all the inheritance you get. I swear by the sacred sun, by the mysterious moon, and by all the planets that rule our lives, that I disown you now as my daughter. As of now, there are no family ties between us, and I consider you a stranger to me. Foreign savages who eat their own children for dinner will be as close to my heart as you, ex-daughter of mine.
King Lear II
Ye jewels of our father, with washed eyes
Cordelia leaves you. I know what you are;
And, like a sister, am most loth to call
Your faults as they are named. Love well our father.
To your professed bosoms I commit him.
But yet, alas! stood I within his grace,
I would prefer him to a better place.
So farewell to you both.The play begins with King Lear making the decision to abdicate the throne and divide his kingdom among his three daughters: Goneril, Regan and Cordelia. The eldest two are already married, while Cordelia is much sought after as a bride, partly because she is her father's favourite. It is announced that each daughter shall be accorded lands according to how much she demonstrates her love for him in speech. To his surprise Cordelia refuses to outdo the flattery of her elder sisters, as she cannot be compelled to describe her love with dishonest hyperbole. Lear, in a fit of pique, divides her share of the kingdom between Goneril and Regan, and Cordelia is disowned. The King of France however marries her, even after she has been disinherited.
Soon after Lear abdicates the throne, he finds that Goneril and Regan's feelings for him have turned cold, and arguments ensue. The Earl of Kent, who has spoken up for Cordelia and been banished for his pains, returns disguised as the servant Caius, who will "eat no fish" (that is to say, he is a Protestant), in order to protect the king, to whom he remains loyal. When Lear's daughters refuse to house his rowdy escort of knights, he rejects their suggestion of firing the knights and is turned out into the stormy darkness, along with his Fool. Meanwhile, Goneril and Regan fall out with one another over their attraction to Edmund, the bastard son of the Earl of Gloucester—and are forced to deal with an army from France, led by Cordelia, sent to restore Lear to his throne. A cataclysmic war is fought.
Meanwhile, there is the Earl of Gloucester and his two sons, Edgar and Edmund. The illegitimate Edmund concocts false stories about his legitimate half-brother, and Edgar is forced into exile, affecting lunacy. Edmund engages in liaisons with Goneril and Regan. Gloucester is confronted by Regan's husband, the Duke of Cornwall, but is saved from death by several of Cornwall's servants, who object to the duke's treatment of Lear; one of the servants wounds the duke (but is killed by Regan), who plucks out Gloucester's eyes and throws him into the storm telling him to, "smell his way to Dover". Cornwall dies of his wound shortly thereafter.
Edgar, still under the guise of a homeless lunatic, finds Gloucester out in the storm. The earl asks him whether he knows the way to Dover, to which Edgar replies that he will lead him. Edgar, whose voice Gloucester fails to recognise, is shaken by encountering his blinded father and his guise is put to the test.
Lear appears in Dover, wandering and raving. Gloucester attempts to throw himself from a cliff, but is deceived by Edgar in order to save him and comes off safely, encountering the king shortly after. Lear and Cordelia are briefly reunited and reconciled before the battle between Britain and France. After the French lose, Lear is content at the thought of living in prison with Cordelia, but Edmund gives orders for them to be executed.
Edgar, in disguise, then fights Edmund, fatally wounding him. On seeing this, Goneril, who has already poisoned Regan out of jealousy, kills herself. Edgar reveals himself to Edmund and tells him that Gloucester has just died. On hearing this, and of Goneril and Regan's deaths, Edmund tells Edgar of his order to have Lear and Cordelia murdered and gives orders for them to be reprieved.
Unfortunately, the reprieve comes too late. Lear appears on stage with Cordelia's dead body in his arms, having killed the servant who hanged her, then dies himself.Source: Wikipedia
Cordelia
Description | Cordelia |
---|---|
Source | |
Date | 1888 |
Author | William Frederick Yeames (British Painter, 1835-1918) |
Lear’s youngest daughter, disowned by her father for refusing to flatter him. Cordelia is held in extremely high regard by all of the good characters in the play—the king of France marries her for her virtue alone, overlooking her lack of dowry. She remains loyal to Lear despite his cruelty toward her, forgives him, and displays a mild and forbearing temperament even toward her evil sisters, Goneril and Regan. Despite her obvious virtues, Cordelia’s reticence makes her motivations difficult to read, as in her refusal to declare her love for her father at the beginning of the play.
Cordelia’s chief characteristics are devotion, kindness, beauty, and honesty—honesty to a fault, perhaps. She is contrasted throughout the play with Goneril and Regan, who are neither honest nor loving, and who manipulate their father for their own ends. By refusing to take part in Lear’s love test at the beginning of the play, Cordelia establishes herself as a repository of virtue, and the obvious authenticity of her love for Lear makes clear the extent of the king’s error in banishing her. For most of the middle section of the play, she is offstage, but as we observe the depredations of Goneril and Regan and watch Lear’s descent into madness, Cordelia is never far from the audience’s thoughts, and her beauty is venerably described in religious terms. Indeed, rumors of her return to Britain begin to surface almost immediately, and once she lands at Dover, the action of the play begins to move toward her, as all the characters converge on the coast. Cordelia’s reunion with Lear marks the apparent restoration of order in the kingdom and the triumph of love and forgiveness over hatred and spite. This fleeting moment of familial happiness makes the devastating finale of King Lear that much more cruel, as Cordelia, the personification of kindness and virtue, becomes a literal sacrifice to the heartlessness of an apparently unjust world.
King Lear I
Thursday
Hamlet
HAMLET
Ha, ha! are you honest?OPHELIA
My lord?HAMLET
Are you fair?OPHELIA
What means your lordship?HAMLET
That if you be honest and fair, your honesty shouldOPHELIA
admit no discourse to your beauty.
Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce thanHAMLET
with honesty?
Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will soonerOPHELIA
transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the
force of honesty can translate beauty into his
likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the
time gives it proof. I did love you once.
Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.HAMLET
You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot
so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of
it: I loved you not.
I
Pleasure might cause her reade, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pittie winne, and pity grace obtaine,
I sought fit wordes to paint the blackest face of woe;
Studying inuentions fine, her wits to entertaine,
Oft turning others leaues, to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitfull showers vpon my sun-burnd brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting Inuentions stay;
Inuention, Natures childe, fledde step-dame Studies blowes;
And others feet still seemde but strangers in my way.
Thus, great with childe to speak, and helplesse in my throwes,
Biting my trewand pen, beating myselfe for spite,
Fool, said my Muse to me, looke in thy heart, and write.
Astrophel and Stella
Sir Philip Sidney
Wednesday
Much ado about nothing
Director: Kenneth Branagh
Writers: William Shakespeare (play), Kenneth Branagh (screenplay)
Release Date: 1993
Genre: Comedy | Romance
Plot: Young lovers Hero and Claudio, soon to wed, conspire to get verbal sparring partners and confirmed singles Benedick and Beatrice to wed as well.
Synopsis: The Prince of Medina Don Pedro (Denzel Washington), his resentful brother Don John (Keanu Reeves), and his noblemen Claudio (Sean Patrick Leonard) and Benedick (Kenneth Branagh) return from war, ready for merriment and love. Claudio loves Hero (Kate Beckinsale), the young daughter of the nobleman Leonato (Richard Briers), but Benedick hates Beatrice (Emma Thompson), Leonato's beautiful but sharp-tongued niece who hates him back. As Claudio and Hero prepare for their wedding, they decide, with the help of Don Pedro, to trick Benedick and Beatrice into confessing their true love for each other. The plan works without a hitch but trouble comes in the form of Don John who is jealous of his brother's power and of his affection for Claudio. Don John devises a scheme where one of his leutenants will make love to Hero's maid Margaret (Imelda Staunton) at Hero's window the night before the wedding. Don John takes Don Pedro and Claudio to Leonato's house where they see the encounter and are convinced the woman is Hero. The next day Claudio disgraces Hero publicly at the wedding and throws her away. She faints and Leonato is persuaded to pretend that she is dead until the situation is sorted out. The foolish warden Dogberry (Michael Keaton) manages to arrest Don John's leutenants and they confess to the plot. Claudio is crushed when he learns that he killed Hero with his untruthful accusations. He begs Leonato to punish him and Leonato tells him his punishment is to marry his (other) niece, who is almost a copy of his dead child. Claudio agrees but first spends a night mourning for Hero and proclaiming her innocence. Don John escapes Medina. The next morning Claudio marries the secret woman who removes her veil to reveal that she is Hero. They are very happy but Benedick and Beatrice almost break up when they discover they were tricked to confess their love. In the end, all is resolved, Don John is arrested and brought back to face punishment, Benedick and Beatrice marry and all dance around Leonato's garden and sing "Noddy noddy".
Plot Keywords: Revenge | Typical Outcome | Distress | Mistreat | Bachelor
Awards: Nominated for Golden Globe. Another 4 wins & 5 nominations
Shakespeare's Sonnets
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
William Shakespeare
Tuesday
Beatrice means "the one that blesses"
Description | Beatrice |
---|---|
Source | |
Date | 1888 |
Author | Frank Bernard Dicksee (1853-1928) |
CLAUDIO
Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?
BENEDICK
I noted her not; but I looked on her.
CLAUDIO
Is she not a modest young lady?
BENEDICK
Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for
my simple true judgment; or would you have me speak
after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?
CLAUDIO
No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment.
BENEDICK
Why, i' faith, methinks she's too low for a high
praise, too brown for a fair praise and too little
for a great praise: only this commendation I can
afford her, that were she other than she is, she
were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I
do not like her.
CLAUDIO
Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me
truly how thou likest her.
BENEDICK
Would you buy her, that you inquire after her?
CLAUDIO
Can the world buy such a jewel?
BENEDICK
Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this
with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack,
to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder and Vulcan a
rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take
you, to go in the song?
CLAUDIO
In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I
looked on.
BENEDICK
I can see yet without spectacles and I see no such
matter: there's her cousin, an she were not
possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty
as the first of May doth the last of December. But I
hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you?
Act 1, Scene 1 Before LEONATO'S house.
Beatrice is the niece of Leonato, a wealthy governor of Messina. Though she is close friends with her cousin Hero, Leonato's daughter, the two could not be less alike. Whereas Hero is polite, quiet, respectful, and gentle, Beatrice is feisty, cynical, witty, and sharp. Beatrice keeps up a "merry war" of wits with Benedick, a lord and soldier from Padua. The play suggests that she was once in love with Benedick but that he led her on and their relationship ended. Now when they meet, the two constantly compete to outdo one another with clever insults. Although she appears hardened and sharp, Beatrice is really vulnerable. Once she overhears Hero describing that Benedick is in love with her (Beatrice), she opens herself to the sensitivities and weaknesses of love. Beatrice is a prime example of one of Shakespeare's strong female characters. She refuses to marry because she has not discovered the perfect, equal partner and because she is unwilling to eschew her liberty and submit to the will of a controlling husband. When Hero has been humiliated and accused of violating her chastity, Beatrice explodes with fury at Claudio for mistreating her cousin. In her frustration and rage about Hero's mistreatment, Beatrice rebels against the unequal status of women in Renaissance society. "O that I were a man for his sake! Or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake!" she passionately exclaims. "I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving" (IV.i.314-320).
Sunday
The Canterbury Tales
Saturday
And yet he semed besier than he was.
Canterbury Tales. Prologue. Line 323.
Geoffrey Chaucer
Chaucer's Prioress
In the poem, by Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer depicts the people of the church and describes them as people who are not the sole embodiment of people who have sworn themselves to God, and to live by the four vows that the church requires them to commit themselves to. The Prioress, a Nun, is no exception, but Chaucer does not directly say how she represents the four vows but rather it is what he does not say that leads people to believe the Prioress is the exact opposite of what is expected of a nun that has committed herself to the four vows.
Men and women of the church are expected to live in poverty and hold no worldly possessions. The Prioress spoke of owning little dogs, which is strictly prohibited in a convent, and treating them exceptionally well and being extremely attached to them. By owing these dogs she violated the vow of poverty but the most apparent item that she owns is a gold broche that and leads the reader to believe that she was not entirely devoted to the church.
Chaucer spent a great deal of time explaining how she was extremely obsessed with her etiquette, that hints to the reader that she is more suited to be a beloved lady rather than a nun. In the days of Chaucer, women used excellent etiquette to attract and keep lovers. This indicates that the Prioress in not completely faithful to her vow of chastity, but rather a woman of promiscuity.
The vow of obedience, in reference to the Prioress, is probably the most odd vow of the four, since he never mentions it. While Chaucer is describing the Prioress he never once mentions how she serves God or nothing of that sort. This leaves the reader wondering if she serves God well or does not, but it is obvious that she has failed to follow the other vows and that this one is no exception.
A nun should pray, study, do service to God, and live a confined life free from temptation, but the Prioress has already violated the first three vows and those have to be followed to successful fulfill the vow of obedience. It is obvious that she does not pray everyday since Chaucer never mentions it and her service to God. She is not obedient to the Rule of order because she acts as an individual rather than a servant to God.
Chaucer explained the Prioress's etiquette, appearance, and her possessions. With that knowledge the reader can conclude that the Prioress does not live a sheltered life or a life that is solely dedicated to the service of God. It can be easily said that she has violated every vow, but Chaucer never comes out and say it straight forward. He leaves it up to the reader to decide how they picture the Prioress.
Ther was also a nonne, a prioresse,
That of hir smylyng was ful symple and coy;
Hire gretteste ooth was but by seinte loy;
And she was cleped madame eglentyne.
Ful weel she soong the service dyvyne,
Entuned in hir nose ful semely,
And frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly,
After the scole of stratford atte bowe,
For frenssh of parys was to hire unknowe.
At mete wel ytaught was she with alle:
She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,
Ne wette hir fyngres in hir sauce depe;
Wel koude she carie a morsel and wel kepe
That no drope ne fille upon hire brest.
In curteisie was set ful muchel hir lest.
Hir over-lippe wyped she so clene
That in hir coppe ther was no ferthyng sene
Of grece, whan she dronken hadde hir draughte.
Ful semely after hir mete she raughte.
And sikerly she was of greet desport,
And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port,
And peyned hire to countrefete cheere
Of court, and to been estatlich of manere,
And to ben holden digne of reverence.
But, for to speken of hire conscience,
She was so charitable and so pitous
She wolde wepe, if that she saugh a mous
Kaught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde.
Of smale houndes hadde she that she fedde
With rosted flessh, or milk and wastel-breed.
But soore wepte she if oon of hem were deed,
Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte;
And al was conscience and tendre herte.
Ful semyly hir wympul pynched was,
Hir nose tretys, hir eyen greye as glas,
Hir mouth ful smal, and therto softe and reed;
But sikerly she hadde a fair forheed;
It was almoost a spanne brood, I trowe;
For, hardily, she was nat undergrowe.
Ful fetys was hir cloke, as I was war.
Of smal coral aboute hire arm she bar
A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene,
And theron heng a brooch of gold ful sheene,
On which ther was first write a crowned a,
And after amor vincit omnia.
Friday
Much ado about nothing
Title: Dogbery and Verges with the Watch (Much Ado about Nothing)
Engraver: Meadows, Robert Mitchell (London, Died, 1812)
Designer: Bunbury, Henry William (British, 1750 - 1811)
Date: 1794
Medium: Original Stipple Engraving
Publisher: Thomas Macklin, London
Title · Much Ado About Nothing
Author · William Shakespeare
Type of work · Drama
Genre · Comedy
Language · English
Time and place written · 1598, England
Date of first publication · 1600
Publisher · Valentine Simmes for Andrew Wise and William Aspley
Tone · Shakespeare’s attitude toward courtship and romance combines mature cynicism with an awareness that the social realities surrounding courtship may detract from the fun of romance. The need to marry for social betterment and to ensure inheritance, coupled with the importance of virginal chastity, complicates romantic relationships. Although this play is a comedy ending in multiple marriages and is full of witty dialogue making for many comic moments, it also addresses more serious events, including some that border on tragedy.
Setting (time) · The sixteenth century
Setting (place) · Messina, Sicily, on and around Governor Leonato’s estate
Protagonists · Claudio, Hero, Beatrice, and Benedick
Major conflict · Don John creates the appearance that Hero is unfaithful to Claudio, and Claudio and Don Pedro come to believe this lie. The real conflict that underlies all of this “ado about nothing” may be that Claudio, Don Pedro, and Benedick share a suspicion of marriage as a trap in which husbands are bound to be controlled and deceived, but they also deeply desire to be married.
Rising action · Claudio falls in love with Hero; Benedick, Don Pedro, and Claudio express their anxieties about marriage in jokes and witty banter; Don Pedro woos Hero on Claudio’s behalf; the villainous Don John creates the illusion that Hero is a whore.
Climax · Claudio rejects Hero at the altar, insulting her and accusing her of unchaste behavior; Don Pedro supports Claudio; Benedick, who was most opposed to women and love at the beginning of the play, sides with Hero and his future wife Beatrice.
Falling action · Benedick challenges Claudio to a duel for slandering Hero; Leonato proclaims publically that Hero died of grief at being falsely accused; Hero’s innocence is brought to light by Dogberry; Claudio and Don Pedro repent.
Resolution · By blindly marrying a masked woman whom he believes he has never met, Claudio shows that he has abandoned jealous suspicions and fears of being controlled, and that he is ready to marry. He is rewarded by discovering that his bride is actually Hero.
Themes · The ideal of social grace; deception as a means to an end; loss of honor; public shaming
motifs · Noting; entertainment; counterfeiting
Symbols · The taming of wild animals; war; Hero’s death
Foreshadowing · Don John’s plan to cross Claudio out of jealousy in Act I; Benedick and Beatrice’s witty insults foreshadow their falling in love.
Some lovers speak, when they their muses entertain (VI)
Of hopes begot by feare, of wot not what desires,
Of force of heau'nly beames infusing hellish paine,
Of liuing deaths, dere wounds, faire storms, and freesing fires:
Some one his song in Ioue and Ioues strange tales attires,
Bordred with buls and swans, powdred with golden raine:
Another, humbler wit, to shepherds pipe retires,
Yet hiding royall bloud full oft in rurall vaine.
To some a sweetest plaint a sweetest stile affords:
While teares poure out his inke, and sighes breathe out his words,
His paper pale despaire, and pain his pen doth moue.
I can speake what I feele, and feele as much as they,
But thinke that all the map of my state I display
When trembling voyce brings forth, that I do Stella loue.
-----
Some lovers speak, when they their muses entertain
Of hopes begot by fear, of wot not what desires,
Of force of heav'nly beams infusing hellish pain,
Of living deaths, dear wounds, fair storms, and freezing fires;
Someone his song in Jove and Jove's strange tales attires,
Bordered with bulls and swans, powdered with golden rain;
Another humbler wit to shepherd's pipe retires,
Yet hiding royal blood full oft in rural vein;
To some a sweetest plaint a sweetest style affords,
While tears pour out his ink, and sighs breathe out his words,
His paper pale despair, and pain his pen doth move.
I can speak what I feel, and feel as much as they,
But think that all the map of my state I display
When trembling voice brings forth that I do Stella love.
From Astrophel and Stella (1591)
Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586)
Sunday
Shakespeare's Sonnets
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
The uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desp'rate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure am I, now reason is past care,
And frantic mad with evermore unrest,
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed;
For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
Thursday
The Tempest (epilogue)
Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own,
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.
The Tempest, themes
The Tempest tells a fairly straightforward story involving an unjust act, the usurpation of Prospero’s throne by his brother, and Prospero’s quest to re-establish justice by restoring himself to power. However, the idea of justice that the play works toward seems highly subjective, since this idea represents the view of one character who controls the fate of all the other characters. Though Prospero presents himself as a victim of injustice working to right the wrongs that have been done to him, Prospero’s idea of justice and injustice is somewhat hypocritical—though he is furious with his brother for taking his power, he has no qualms about enslaving Ariel and Caliban in order to achieve his ends. At many moments throughout the play, Prospero’s sense of justice seems extremely one-sided and mainly involves what is good for Prospero. Moreover, because the play offers no notion of higher order or justice to supersede Prospero’s interpretation of events, the play is morally ambiguous.
As the play progresses, however, it becomes more and more involved with the idea of creativity and art, and Prospero’s role begins to mirror more explicitly the role of an author creating a story around him. With this metaphor in mind, and especially if we accept Prospero as a surrogate for Shakespeare himself, Prospero’s sense of justice begins to seem, if not perfect, at least sympathetic. Moreover, the means he uses to achieve his idea of justice mirror the machinations of the artist, who also seeks to enable others to see his view of the world. Playwrights arrange their stories in such a way that their own idea of justice is imposed upon events. In The Tempest, the author is in the play, and the fact that he establishes his idea of justice and creates a happy ending for all the characters becomes a cause for celebration, not criticism.
By using magic and tricks that echo the special effects and spectacles of the theater, Prospero gradually persuades the other characters and the audience of the rightness of his case. As he does so, the ambiguities surrounding his methods slowly resolve themselves. Prospero forgives his enemies, releases his slaves, and relinquishes his magic power, so that, at the end of the play, he is only an old man whose work has been responsible for all the audience’s pleasure. The establishment of Prospero’s idea of justice becomes less a commentary on justice in life than on the nature of morality in art. Happy endings are possible, Shakespeare seems to say, because the creativity of artists can create them, even if the moral values that establish the happy ending originate from nowhere but the imagination of the artist.
The Difficulty of Distinguishing “Men” from “Monsters”
Upon seeing Ferdinand for the first time, Miranda says that he is “the third man that e’er I saw” (I.ii.449).
Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first
That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father
To be inclined my way!
The other two are, presumably, Prospero and Caliban. In their first conversation with Caliban, however, Miranda and Prospero say very little that shows they consider him to be human. Miranda reminds Caliban that before she taught him language, he gabbled “like / A thing most brutish” (I.ii.59–60) and Prospero says that he gave Caliban “human care” (I.ii.349), implying that this was something Caliban ultimately did not deserve. Caliban’s exact nature continues to be slightly ambiguous later. In Act IV, scene i, reminded of Caliban’s plot, Prospero refers to him as a “devil, a born devil, on whose nature / Nurture can never stick” (IV.i.188–189). Miranda and Prospero both have contradictory views of Caliban’s humanity. On the one hand, they think that their education of him has lifted him from his formerly brutish status. On the other hand, they seem to see him as inherently brutish. His devilish nature can never be overcome by nurture, according to Prospero. Miranda expresses a similar sentiment in Act I, scene ii: “thy vile race, / Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good natures / Could not abide to be with” (I.ii.361–363). The inhuman part of Caliban drives out the human part, the “good nature,” that is imposed on him.
Caliban claims that he was kind to Prospero, and that Prospero repaid that kindness by imprisoning him (see I.ii.347). In contrast, Prospero claims that he stopped being kind to Caliban once Caliban had tried to rape Miranda (I.ii.347–351). Which character the audience decides to believe depends on whether it views Caliban as inherently brutish, or as made brutish by oppression. The play leaves the matter ambiguous. Caliban balances all of his eloquent speeches, such as his curses in Act I, scene ii and his speech about the isle’s “noises” in Act III, scene ii, with the most degrading kind of drunken, servile behavior. But Trinculo’s speech upon first seeing Caliban (II.ii.18–38), the longest speech in the play, reproaches too harsh a view of Caliban and blurs the distinction between men and monsters. In England, which he visited once, Trinculo says, Caliban could be shown off for money: “There would this monster make a man. Any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian” (II.ii.28–31). What seems most monstrous in these sentences is not the “dead Indian,” or “any strange beast,” but the cruel voyeurism of those who capture and gape at them.
The Allure of Ruling a Colony
The nearly uninhabited island presents the sense of infinite possibility to almost everyone who lands there. Prospero has found it, in its isolation, an ideal place to school his daughter. Sycorax, Caliban’s mother, worked her magic there after she was exiled from Algeria. Caliban, once alone on the island, now Prospero’s slave, laments that he had been his own king (I.ii.344–345). As he attempts to comfort Alonso, Gonzalo imagines a utopian society on the island, over which he would rule (II.i.148–156). In Act III, scene ii, Caliban suggests that Stefano kill Prospero, and Stefano immediately envisions his own reign: “Monster, I will kill this man. His daughter and I will be King and Queen—save our graces!—and Trinculo and thyself shall be my viceroys” (III.ii.101–103). Stefano particularly looks forward to taking advantage of the spirits that make “noises” on the isle; they will provide music for his kingdom for free. All these characters envision the island as a space of freedom and unrealized potential.
The tone of the play, however, toward the hopes of the would-be colonizers is vexed at best. Gonzalo’s utopian vision in Act II, scene i is undercut by a sharp retort from the usually foolish Sebastian and Antonio. When Gonzalo says that there would be no commerce or work or “sovereignty” in his society, Sebastian replies, “yet he would be king on’t,” and Antonio adds, “The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning” (II.i.156–157). Gonzalo’s fantasy thus involves him ruling the island while seeming not to rule it, and in this he becomes a kind of parody of Prospero.While there are many representatives of the colonial impulse in the play, the colonized have only one representative: Caliban. We might develop sympathy for him at first, when Prospero seeks him out merely to abuse him, and when we see him tormented by spirits. However, this sympathy is made more difficult by his willingness to abase himself before Stefano in Act II, scene ii. Even as Caliban plots to kill one colonial master (Prospero) in Act III, scene ii, he sets up another (Stefano). The urge to rule and the urge to be ruled seem inextricably intertwined.
Wednesday
The Tempest (1610-11)
Oil on canvas, size 18 x 23.5 inches, Christie's, London.
John W. Waterhouse
Characters:
Prospero, the Duke of Milan and the story's protagonist
Miranda, daughter of Prospero, often called "a wonder"
Ariel, an airy spirit
Caliban, deformed slave of Prospero and son of Sycorax
Alonso, King of Naples
Sebastian, Alonso's brother
Antonio, Prospero's brother, the usurping Duke of Milan
Ferdinand, Alonso's son
Gonzalo, an honest, optimistic old councillor who gave Prospero food, water, and books prior to Prospero and Miranda being cast off
Adrian and Francisco, lords
Trinculo, a jester
Stephano, a drunken butler
Boatswain Master of the ship
Iris, Ceres and Juno, spirits
Sycorax, (mentioned, but deceased when the action of the play begins) Witch and mother of Caliban
Synopsis:
The sorcerer Prospero, rightful Duke of Milan, and his daughter, Miranda, have been stranded for twelve years on an island, after Prospero's jealous brother Antonio—helped by Alonso, the King of Naples—deposed him and set him adrift with the three-year-old Miranda. Prospero secretly sought the help of Gonzalo and their small and shoddy boat had secretly been upgraded to be more than sea worthy, it had been supplied with plenty of food and water, it had an excellent library and contained surviving material in case the boat capsized. Possessed of magic powers due to his great learning and prodigious library, Prospero is reluctantly served by a spirit, Ariel, whom he had rescued from imprisonment in a tree. Ariel was trapped therein by the Algerian witch Sycorax, who had been exiled to the island years before and died prior to Prospero's arrival; Prospero maintains Ariel's loyalty by repeatedly promising to release the "airy spirit" from servitude, but continually defers that promise to a future date, namely at the end of the play. The witch's son Caliban, a deformed monster and the only non-spiritual inhabitant before the arrival of Prospero, was initially adopted and raised by the Milanese sorcerer. He taught Prospero how to survive on the island, while Prospero and Miranda taught Caliban religion and their own language. Following Caliban's attempted rape of Miranda, he had been compelled by Prospero to serve as the sorcerer's slave, carrying wood and gathering pig nuts. In slavery Caliban has come to view Prospero as a usurper, and grown to resent the magician and his daughter, feeling that they have betrayed his trust. Prospero and Miranda in turn view Caliban with contempt and disgust.
The play opens as Prospero, having divined that his brother, Antonio, is on a ship passing close by the island (having returned from the nuptials of Alonso's daughter Claribel with the King of Tunis), has raised a storm (the tempest of the title) which causes the ship to run aground. Also on the ship are Antonio's friend and fellow conspirator, King Alonso, Alonso's brother Sebastian, Alonso's royal advisor Gonzalo, and Alonso's son, Ferdinand. Prospero, by his spells, contrives to separate the survivors of the wreck into several groups and Alonso and Ferdinand are separated, and believe one another dead.
Three plots then alternate through the play. In one, Caliban falls in with Stephano and Trinculo, two drunken crew members, whom he believes to have come from the moon, and drunkenly attempts to raise a rebellion against Prospero (which ultimately fails). In another, Prospero works to establish a romantic relationship between Ferdinand and Miranda; the two fall immediately in love, but Prospero worries that "too light winning [may] make the prize light", and so compels Ferdinand to become his servant so that his affection for Miranda will be confirmed. He also decides that after his plan to exact vengeance on his betrayers has come to fruition, he will break and bury his staff, and "drown" his book of magic. In the third subplot, Antonio and Sebastian conspire to kill Alonso and his advisor Gonzalo, so that Sebastian can become King. They are thwarted by Ariel, at Prospero's command. Ariel appears to the three "men of sin" as a harpy, reprimanding them for their betrayal of Prospero. Alonso, Sebastian and Antonio are deeply affected while Gonzalo is unruffled. Prospero manipulates the course of his enemies' path through the island, drawing them closer and closer to him. In the conclusion, all the main characters are brought together before Prospero, who forgives Alonso (as well as his own brother's betrayal, and warns Antonio and Sebastian about further attempts at betrayal) and finally uses his magic to ensure that everyone returns to Italy.
Ariel (as his final task for Prospero) is charged to prepare the proper sailing weather to guide Alonso and his entourage back to the Royal fleet and then to Naples. Ariel is set free to the elements. Prospero pardons Caliban who is sent to prepare Prospero’s cell, to which Alonso and his party are invited for a final night before their departure. Prospero indicates he intends to entertain them with the story of his life on the island. In his epilogue, Prospero invites the audience to set him free from the island by their applause.
http://www.sparknotes.com/shakespeare/tempest/
Miranda
Just under fifteen years old, Miranda is a gentle and compassionate, but also relatively passive, heroine. From her very first lines she displays a meek and emotional nature.
With those that I saw suffer!”
she says of the shipwreck (I.ii.5–6), and hearing Prospero’s tale of their narrow escape from Milan, she says:
Will cry it o’er again”
(I.ii.133–134).
Miranda does not choose her own husband. Instead, while she sleeps, Prospero sends Ariel to fetch Ferdinand, and arranges things so that the two will come to love one another. After Prospero has given the lovers his blessing, he and Ferdinand talk with surprising frankness about her virginity and the pleasures of the marriage bed while she stands quietly by. Prospero tells Ferdinand to be sure not to “break her virgin-knot” before the wedding night (IV.i.15), and Ferdinand replies with no small anticipation that lust shall never take away “the edge of that day’s celebration” (IV.i.29). In the play’s final scene, Miranda is presented, with Ferdinand, almost as a prop or piece of the scenery as Prospero draws aside a curtain to reveal the pair playing chess.
But while Miranda is passive in many ways, she has at least two moments of surprising forthrightness and strength that complicate the reader’s impressions of her as a naïve young girl. The first such moment is in Act I, scene ii, in which she and Prospero converse with Caliban. Prospero alludes to the fact that Caliban once tried to rape Miranda. When Caliban rudely agrees that he intended to violate her, Miranda responds with impressive vehemence, clearly appalled at Caliban’s light attitude toward his attempted rape. She goes on to scold him for being ungrateful for her attempts to educate him:
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes
With words that made them known”
(358–361)
These lines are so surprising coming from the mouth of Miranda that many editors have amended the text and given it to Prospero. This reattribution seems to give Miranda too little credit. In Act III, scene i comes the second surprising moment—Miranda’s marriage proposal to Ferdinand:
If not, I’ll die your maid”
(III.i.83–84)
Her proposal comes shortly after Miranda has told herself to remember her “father’s precepts” (III.i.58) forbidding conversation with Ferdinand. As the reader can see in her speech to Caliban in Act I, scene ii, Miranda is willing to speak up for herself about her sexuality.
The character of Miranda in "The Tempest" is extremely compelling for two reasons. First and foremost it is important to note that the Miranda is the only female character who appears in the entire play. This is the only Shakespeare play where a character has this kind of outstanding distinction. This is not just a fluke on the part of Shakespeare, for it is very important that the character of Miranda appear by herself. The reader is not able to compare her beauty and virtue to any other female in the world of "The Tempest", and this serves both to show her value as a character and the fact that no other living women has the virtue of Miranda. While Miranda may not have many outstanding lines or solioquys, she makes up for this in sheer presence alone. Miranda's character encompasses all the elements of perfectionism and goodness which is lacking in all the other respective characters. All of the other characters in "The Tempest" are reflected by Miranda, and even if she did not speak one line she would still serve this important purpose.
Secondly, Miranda also serves as the ultimate fantasy for any male who (like Ferdinand) is a bachelor. She is extremely beautiful, she is intelligent, and she has never been touched (or even seen) by another male. Shakespeare makes Miranda even more desirable by including the fact that she has never seen or even talked to another man (with the obvoius exception of Prospero). Miranda personifies the ultimate source of good in the play, and provides the ultimate foil for the evil character of Caliban. When Ferdinand is forced to chop wood by Prospero, Miranda offers to do it for him. Finding a woman this humble in the world of Shakespeare is almost impossible. One does not have to look farther than her last line in the play to realize her purpose in the plot. Miranda states:
How many goodly creatures there are here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world
That has such people in't"
(Tempest,5.1,185-7)
Through this passage and many of her others Miranda shows a positive attitude which is almost uncanny when compared to the other characters. In all of the collected works of Shakespeare not one character is as overwhelmingly pure as Miranda. Even the nun Isabella in "Measure for Measure" wouldn't perform the virtuos act of sacrificing her virginity to save her brothers life. Miranda certainly would perform this act, becuase unlike Isabella she would place value on another persons life before protecting her own ego. In this and all the facets of her character Miranda appears almost Christ-like, and it is this extreme propensity towards goodness and purity which enables Miranda to become a unreplacable and unforgettable character.
Tuesday
Doctor Faustus. Character list
Mephastophilis - A devil whom Faustus summons with his initial magical experiments. Mephastophilis’s motivations are ambiguous: on the one hand, his oft-expressed goal is to catch Faustus’s soul and carry it off to hell; on the other hand, he actively attempts to dissuade Faustus from making a deal with Lucifer by warning him about the horrors of hell. Mephastophilis is ultimately as tragic a figure as Faustus, with his moving, regretful accounts of what the devils have lost in their eternal separation from God and his repeated reflections on the pain that comes with damnation. Read more...
Chorus - A character who stands outside the story, providing narration and commentary. The Chorus was customary in Greek tragedy.
Old Man - An enigmatic figure who appears in the final scene. The old man urges Faustus to repent and to ask God for mercy. He seems to replace the good and evil angels, who, in the first scene, try to influence Faustus’s behavior.
Good Angel - A spirit that urges Faustus to repent for his pact with Lucifer and return to God. Along with the old man and the bad angel, the good angel represents, in many ways, Faustus’s conscience and divided will between good and evil.
Evil Angel - A spirit that serves as the counterpart to the good angel and provides Faustus with reasons not to repent for sins against God. The evil angel represents the evil half of Faustus’s conscience.
Lucifer - The prince of devils, the ruler of hell, and Mephastophilis’s master.
Wagner - Faustus’s servant. Wagner uses his master’s books to learn how to summon devils and work magic.
Clown - A clown who becomes Wagner’s servant. The clown’s antics provide comic relief; he is a ridiculous character, and his absurd behavior initially contrasts with Faustus’s grandeur. As the play goes on, though, Faustus’s behavior comes to resemble that of the clown.
Robin - An ostler, or innkeeper, who, like the clown, provides a comic contrast to Faustus. Robin and his friend Rafe learn some basic conjuring, demonstrating that even the least scholarly can possess skill in magic. Marlowe includes Robin and Rafe to illustrate Faustus’s degradation as he submits to simple trickery such as theirs.
Rafe - An ostler, and a friend of Robin. Rafe appears as Dick (Robin’s friend and a clown) in B-text editions of Doctor Faustus.
Valdes and Cornelius - Two friends of Faustus, both magicians, who teach him the art of black magic.
Horse-courser - A horse-trader who buys a horse from Faustus, which vanishes after the horse-courser rides it into the water, leading him to seek revenge.
The Scholars - Faustus’s colleagues at the University of Wittenberg. Loyal to Faustus, the scholars appear at the beginning and end of the play to express dismay at the turn Faustus’s studies have taken, to marvel at his achievements, and then to hear his agonized confession of his pact with Lucifer.
The pope - The head of the Roman Catholic Church and a powerful political figure in the Europe of Faustus’s day. The pope serves as both a source of amusement for the play’s Protestant audience and a symbol of the religious faith that Faustus has rejected.
Emperor Charles V - The most powerful monarch in Europe, whose court Faustus visits.
Knight - A German nobleman at the emperor’s court. The knight is skeptical of Faustus’s power, and Faustus makes antlers sprout from his head to teach him a lesson. The knight is further developed and known as Benvolio in B-text versions of Doctor Faustus; Benvolio seeks revenge on Faustus and plans to murder him.
Bruno - A candidate for the papacy, supported by the emperor. Bruno is captured by the pope and freed by Faustus. Bruno appears only in B-text versions of Doctor Faustus.
Duke of Vanholt - A German nobleman whom Faustus visits.
Martino and Frederick - Friends of Benvolio who reluctantly join his attempt to kill Faustus. Martino and Frederick appear only in B-text versions of Doctor Faustus.
The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus
"Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscribed,
In one self place, but where we are is hell,
And where hell is there must we ever be.
And to be short, when all the world dissolves,
And every creature shall be purified,
All places shall be hell that is not heaven."
Mephastophilis to Faustus, Act 2, Scene 1
Faustus learns necromancy
As a prologue, the Chorus tells us about the type of play Doctor Faustus is. It is not about war or courtly love, but rather about Faustus, who was born of lower class parents. This can be seen as a departure from the Medieval tradition; Faustus holds a lower status than kings and saints, but his story is still worth being told. It gives an introduction to his wisdom and abilities, most notably in divinity which he excels so tremendously that he is awarded a doctorate. During this opening, we also get our first clue to the source of Faustus' downfall. Faustus is likened to the story of Icarus, who flew too close to the sun with his waxen wings and as a result fell to his death when the sun melted the wax. This does indeed clue us to Faustus's end as well as bringing our attention to the idea of hubris (excessive pride) which is represented in the Icarus story.
Faustus comments that he has reached the end of every subject he has studied, for instance, the skill of argumentative attributed to Logic. He dismisses Logic as being a tool for arguing; Medicine as being unvalued unless it allowed raising the dead and immortality; Law as being petty and below him; Divinity as useless because he feels that all humans commit sin, and thus to have sins punishable by death complicates the logic of Divinity. He dismisses it as "What doctrine call you this? Que Sera Sera (What will be, shall be)".
He calls upon his servant Wagner to bring forth Valdes and Cornelius, two famous magicians. The good angel and the bad angel dispense their own perspective of his interest in Magic. Though Faustus is momentarily dissuaded, proclaiming "How am I glutted with conceit of this?", he is apparently won over by the possibilities Magic offers to him. Valdes declares that if Faustus devotes himself to Magic, he must vow not to study anything else and points out that great things are indeed possible with someone of Faustus' standing.
Faustus' absence is noted by two scholars who are less accomplished than Faustus himself. They request that Wagner reveal Faustus' present location, a request which Wagner haughtily denies. We can see Wagner as a person who thinks very highly of himself. The two scholars worry about Faustus falling deep into the art of Magic and leave to inform the head of the university.
Faustus summons a devil, under the presence of Lucifer and other devils although Faustus is unaware of it. After creating a circle and speaking an incantation, a devil named Mephostophilis appears before him. Faustus is unable to tolerate the hideous looks of the devil and commands it to change its form to that of a Franciscan friar, a shape which suits a demon best, an ironic statement used to mock religion. Faustus, in seeing the obedience of the devil (for changing form), takes pride in his skill. He tries to bind the devil to his service but is unable to because Mephostophilis already serves Lucifer, the prince of devils. Mephostophilis also reveals that it was not Faustus's power that summoned him but rather anyone that abjured the scriptures would result in the devil coming to claim one's soul. Thus, nobody can summon a demon without placing themselves in danger of damnation.
Mephostophilis introduces the history of Lucifer and the other devils while indirectly telling Faustus that hell has no circumference and is more of a state of mind than a physical location. Faustus' inquiries into the nature of hell lead to Mephistopheles saying: "Oh Faustus, leave these frivolous demands, which strikes a terror to my fainting soul." Mephostophilis seems to imply that Faustus's questioning has reminded Mephistopheles of his origins.
The pact with Lucifer
Using Mephistopheles as a messenger, Faustus strikes a deal with Lucifer: he is to be allotted twenty-four years of life on Earth, during which time he will have Mephistopheles as his personal servant. At the end he will give his soul over to Lucifer as payment and spend the rest of time as one damned to hell. This deal is to be sealed in Faustus' own blood. Interestingly, at first his blood congeals, leading to second thoughts by Faustus. After cutting a second time, Faustus finds the congealed blood on his arm has formed a Latin inscription instructing him to run away. Despite the dramatic nature of this obvious divine intervention, Faustus disregards the inscription with the presumption that he is already damned by his actions thus far, therefore left with no place to flee to. Mephistopheles brings coals to break the wound open again, and thus Mephistopheles begins his servitude and Faustus his oath.
Wasting his skills
Faustus begins by learning much about the sciences. He has an interesting debate with Mephistopheles regarding astronomy and the "nine spheres". Two angels, good and bad, appear to Faustus giving him the chance to repent and revoke his oath to Lucifer. This is the largest fault of Faustus throughout the play: he is blind to his own salvation. Though he is told initially by Mephistopheles to "leave these frivolous demands," Faustus remains set on his soul's damnation.
Lucifer brings to Faustus the personification of the seven deadly sins. Faustus recognizes these as detestable, but ignores the echo of his own 'detestable' life.
From this point until the end of the play, Faustus does nothing worthwhile, having begun his pact with the attitude that he would be able to do anything. Faustus appears to scholars and warns them that he is damned and will not be long on the earth. He gives a speech about how he is damned and eventually seems to repent for his deeds. Mephistopheles comes to collect his soul, and Faustus' body is found by his friends and colleagues, dismembered.
Damnation or salvation
The text leaves Faustus' final confrontation with Mephistopheles offstage, and his final fate ambiguous. The scene following begins with Faustus' friends discovering his body parts strewn about the stage: from this they conclude that Faustus was damned. However, his friends decide to give him a due burial, a religious ceremony that hints at salvation. It should be noted that the discovery of the body parts is a scene present only in the later 'B text' of the play; the earlier version of the play, in offering no direct evidence of Faustus' fate, is more ambiguous.