Faculty of Arts and Philosophy
Robin Verdickt
Doctor Faustus: Resurrecting the Chapbook
A comparison of Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus and its chapbook adaptations
Paper submitted in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of
Master in de Taal- en Letterkunde
Nederlands-Engels
August 2015
Supervisor:
Prof. Sandro Jung
Faculty of Arts and Philosophy
Robin Verdickt
Doctor Faustus: Resurrecting the Chapbook
A comparison of Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus and its chapbook adaptations
Paper submitted in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of
Master in de Taal- en Letterkunde
Nederlands-Engels
August 2015
Supervisor:
Prof. Sandro Jung
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My thanks go out to Prof. Sandro Jung for his astute guidance and insight on the subject
matter that helped shape this project.
Further thanks go out to Rocio, for her patience in reading.
CONTENTS
Introduction ................................................................................................................................................................. 1
The play and the chapbook: re-evaluating the literary canon.................................................................. 1
Preamble to the comparison: the play, the chapbook and their story ................................................... 2
Chapter 1: Establishing the Scene ......................................................................................................................... 4
1.1.
Early Modern Period ............................................................................................................................... 4
1.1.1.
The theatre texts.............................................................................................................................. 4
1.1.1.1.
The popularity of theatre texts challenged ........................................................................... 4
1.1.1.2.
The fluctuating market of printed professional media ....................................................... 6
1.1.2.
1.2.
The Occult ...................................................................................................................................... 11
1.1.2.1.
Henry Cornelius Agrippa ...................................................................................................... 11
1.1.2.2.
Stage magic: performance and performatives .................................................................... 15
Chapbooks ............................................................................................................................................... 22
1.2.1.
Characteristics ............................................................................................................................... 22
1.2.2.
Out of Tradition ............................................................................................................................ 23
1.2.3.
Playtexts and Chapbooks Revisited ........................................................................................ 26
1.3.
The Play: Doctor Faustus .................................................................................................................... 30
Chapter 2: The Chapbook Adaptations ............................................................................................................. 37
2.1.
Surface Analysis ................................................................................................................................. 37
2.1.1.
Premise............................................................................................................................................. 37
2.1.2.
Edinburgh Edition ....................................................................................................................... 38
2.1.3.
London Edition ............................................................................................................................. 40
2.2.
Detailed Analysis.................................................................................................................................... 41
2.2.1.
Edinburgh Edition ....................................................................................................................... 41
2.2.1.1.
Structure and style .................................................................................................................. 41
2.2.1.2.
Content comparison............................................................................................................... 42
2.2.1.3.
Final Analysis .......................................................................................................................... 55
2.2.2.
London Edition ............................................................................................................................. 56
2.2.2.1.
Structure and style .................................................................................................................. 56
2.2.2.2.
Content comparison............................................................................................................... 57
2.2.2.3.
Final Analysis .......................................................................................................................... 76
Conclusion .................................................................................................................................................................. 78
Works Cited ................................................................................................................................................................ 80
Words: 24,058.
1
INTRODUCTION
THE PLAY AND THE CHAPBOOK: RE-EVALUATING THE LITERARY
CANON
A study on Doctor Faustus by Marlowe as a canonical work of English literature and theatre
could scarcely be called groundbreaking subject matter. Drawing from various areas of
knowledge, it has been dissected by an array of equally varying perspectives. From religious
intertextual material to psychological analyses and influences in the arts, one has to wonder
how Marlowe’s play can still serve as a pool of valuable study material. This leads us to the
recent ‘discovery’ in Glasgow of several relatively untouched chapbooks, now made available
to researchers, adapting the story of Faustus into a more accessible, cheaper format typical for
the chapbook genre.
Popular literature as a subject, namely, has often been overshadowed by the more
traditional ‘recurring themes’ in scholarly research, such as those of canon literature and its
formation. What lies at the core of the formation of the literary canon has been an especially
notable element in academic debate. A traditional view is that all books in the literary canon
share the element of ‘intrinsic quality’, suggesting that they have a lasting significance
throughout history. Other common voices state that the literary canon should contain works
that are particularly representative for a specific culture or period in time. Recent research has
reformulated how we should approach the literary canon, however.
When we look at chapbooks, we might consider how they fit into what we understand as
the canon. Chapbooks themselves are not canon literature per se, but they are frequently an
adaptation of a literary work that holds a place in the canon. The question to ask then is which
‘version’ would have been more culturally pervasive. After all, despite the heavy focus in
research on the canon, one has to consider that these widely available adaptations of canon
2
literature must have had some impact of their own. The focus in the preamble to the core of
this dissertation will therefore lie in making an argument for the significance of this folk
literature.
Seeing as these chapbooks have largely been unstudied hitherto, the analysis of the
chapbooks will extend itself to a comparison with the play not only in influence, but also in
content and style. This juxtaposition will be the intended core of the dissertation. Expectantly,
this will prove to be a course assessment. A micro-analysis of relatively unstudied material
needs to first provide a basis which further research can rely upon. The chapbooks might be
categorized into various sections per mode, per clear translations and entirely different
segments need to be highlighted; again, a matrix has to be built that is easily transferable to
other research.
PREAMBLE TO THE COMPARISON: THE PLAY, THE CHAPBOOK AND
THEIR STORY
Before we get to our micro-analysis, there are a few concepts that need to be explored and
introduced. Firstly, the context in which both ‘renditions’ of the text appeared needs to be
understood, meaning a short exploration of the early modern period will have to be given.
Focus will lay on the availability of theatre texts. Tied in with this introduction to the early
modern period are some thoughts on the occult and early modern superstition. The former will
support the understanding of the debate on canon literature; the latter will prove exemplary in
portraying how similar subjects are handled in different mediums, as one can expect a certain
loss of dimension when ‘transferring’ the story from play to chapbook. Christopher Marlowe
will feature in the latter, with some mention made of Marlowe’s relation to the occult ideas of
Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa, a German magician whose work will prove to have a
considerable influence on Marlowe’s play.
3
Secondly, to understand the debate on the literary canon and popular literature’s role in
forming it even further, we need to gain a basic understanding of what chapbooks are. The
manner in which they emerged, its reputation and their relation to other contemporary forms
of text are among the most prominently discussed aspects of these chapbooks. We can then
apply this information to the actual discussed chapbooks, point out the relevant features as
they were known to have and deduce how stereotypically ‘chapbook’ they are. What this
means in regards to the play with which they are compared will be another focal point around
which to compare the two.
Having then established both the play and the chapbook, we can finally move on to a
section on Marlowe’s play Doctor Faustus. This allows us to move into the actual material
included in our analysis, which presents the last foundations upon which the main section is to
be built. Focus here will mainly lay on the actual content of the play, as the genre of text and
the implications and consequence of being as such regarding conveyance, availability and
structure will already have been explored in the introductory sections. This section will serve
as a basis to compare how much of the play’s content functions as inspiration for the
chapbook adaptations’ content.
One final note to make is that it is generally accepted that Marlowe based the Doctor
Faustus play on a chapbook itself, commonly called The English Faust Book. A quick
overlook suggests that both discussed chapbooks are at least partially drawn from this
chapbook. Due to the much later publication dates, however, and in the interest of
constructing a cohesive narrative on the differences between theatrical texts and chapbooks,
the chapbooks are treated as later renditions of the same Faust-story, and as such are
described as being adaptations of the play.
4
CHAPTER 1: ESTABLISHING THE SCENE
1.1. EARLY MODERN PERIOD
1.1.1.
THE THEATRE TEXTS
1.1.1.1.
The popularity of theatre texts challenged
English Renaissance printed plays were until relatively recently regarded as a popular chapter
of the early modern book trade. Arguments included are those of H.S. Bennett, who stated
that plays sold quickly, as in only during the first ten years of the 17th century more than one
hundred editions were printed.1 That belief shifted around 1997, as printed texts were now
perceived as dangerously ill-advised investments. Lukas Erne, for example, claims that
“expectations to make a profit with a newly published playbook would have been particularly
low” in the early seventeenth century.2 According to Julie Stone Peters demand for them was
limited, as readers usually seemed to prefer different kinds of books. 3 T.H. Howard-Hill
supports this claim by adding that even if some would be printed, “very few of them were so
popular as to justify editions after the first.”4
Farmer and Lesser employ the authors cited above (post-shift) to attribute this change in
scholarly thinking to Peter W.M. Blayney’s “The Publication of Playbooks,” pointing out that
it is an article cited by all of those authors.5 In examining this article, we see Blayney refuting
those scholars who believed “that their own attitudes toward highly valued texts were shared
by the public for whom those texts were first printed” and that the plays in quarto must have
sold particularly well.6 Farmer and Lesser list several of these arguments, some of which we
will include here. It should be noted beforehand however that they list these in order to refute
some of Blayney’s claims in return. While some mention of their counterarguments and
1
Bennett (1970), p. 195.
Erne (2002), p. 16.
3
Peters (2000), p. 33.
4
Howard-Hill (1999), p. 37.
5
Farmer (2005), p. 2.
6
Blayney (1997), p. 384.
2
5
Blayney’s response in return will be made, the main contribution of Farmer and Lesser’s
article is an outline of the creation history of the market for printed professional drama.
Suffice it to say, this thesis leans in favor of Blayney’s arguments.
One of the arguments Blayney uses is that new plays accounted for merely a very minor
fraction of the English book trade, between 1.2 and 1.6 percent of the entries in the Short Title
Catalogue from 1583 to 1642.7 Looking at a few more figures, the amount of first edition
reprints within twenty-five years from 1583 to 1622 hover around 50 percent, whereas this
number drops to less than 29 percent from 1623 to 1642.8 Of the plays published during these
sixty years under discussion, less than 21 percent were popular enough to gain a second
edition within nine years, which, according to Blayney, means that barely one play in five
were able to return the initial investment to their publisher within five years.9 These reasons
(and many more) lead Blayney to conclude that we can no longer “evade one inescapable fact
about printed plays – namely, that they were not the best-selling moneyspinners that so many
commentators have evidently believed they should have been.”10
Farmer and Lesser summarize Blayney’s findings and cautiously criticize them by stating
that his previous arguments are “flawed at a fundamental level because it does not
systematically compare the market performance of playbooks to that of other kinds of
books”.11 They will argue that playbooks were “far more popular than Blayney contends” by
extending his research to include said comparison with other kinds of books. 12 Blayney
responds to their claims in a follow-up article, aptly named “The Alleged Popularity of
Playbooks”, rather negatively (interestingly enough printed in the same issue of Shakespeare
7
Blayney (1997), p. 385, 417.
Ibid., p. 387.
9
Ibid., p. 389.
10
Ibid., p. 416.
11
Farmer (2005), p. 4.
12
Ibid., p. 4.
8
6
Quarterly), stating that they failed on a historical, logical and mathematical level; how exactly
they failed will be excluded here.13 He does however praise the same outline mentioned earlier
of the creation history of the market for printed professional drama, as “even if others might
choose to tell the story with different emphases, studying the facts closely enough to discern
any story at all is a welcome innovation.”14 Next to Blayney’s own findings in his previous
article, this outline will prove to be the most useful in our aim to establish the availability and
popularity of theatre texts.
1.1.1.2.
The fluctuating market of printed professional media
Farmer and Lesser introduce their overview by distinguishing playbooks from ‘professional’
plays, “that is, plays from the professional London theaters, as opposed to other forms of
drama, including masques, Lord Mayor’s pageants, and university or closet drama.”15 Their
focus will lay on professional plays, and, even more specifically, on extant plays, arguing that
“lost plays are unlikely to affect our arguments about trends in play publication, since lost
plays probably amounted to fewer than one edition per year.”16 A last distinction that should
be understood is the one between second-edition reprints and later editions, which they refer
to as ‘second-plus’ editions.17
Before elaborating further, they include a quick overview marking six distinct periods in
the publication of printed professional plays:
1576-1597: an initial period of low production (48 first editions, 11 second-plus
editions)
1598-1613: a boom followed by sustained high production (129 first editions, 79
second-plus editions)
13
Blayney (2005), p. 33.
Ibid., p. 33.
15
Farmer (2005), p. 6.
16
Ibid., p. 7.
17
Ibid., p. 7.
14
7
1614-1628: a gradual contraction, with production levels generally still above those of
1576-1597 (31 first editions, 65 second-plus editions)
1629-1640: a second boom (122 first editions, 84 second-plus editions)
1641-1649: a sharp contraction, with only one play published from 1643 to 1645 (17
first editions, 10 second-plus editions)
1650-1660: an expansion to levels slightly above those of 1614-1628 (58 first editions,
27 second-plus editions)18
The overview will now be explained partially, fitted into the theatre history of the early
modern period in England, specifically, to provide a better understanding of how such a
market works.
The initial period, ranging from 1576 to 1597, entailed more or less the first two decades
which featured regular public playing in London, which means few plays were printed; “for
the first thirteen years after the building of the Theatre, there was essentially no market for
printed professional plays, with eight of those years seeing no entries in the Register and no
printed editions”.19 Blayney explains the slow rise of the plays in which stationers would start
publishing plays regularly starting around 1589 in relatively small numbers, with a small
anomalous boom in 1594 of eighteen new plays, which he connects to the advertisements of
the reopening of the theaters by companies after a period of plague; ‘anomalous’ because play
publications soon returned to their earlier levels.20 ‘Stationer’ describes “various book-trade
functions”, as bookselling was not established as a separate trade yet, and as such its function
was primarily as distributor; the production of the books lay in the hands of copyists, binders,
illuminators and parchment-makers.21
18
Farmer (2005), p. 7.
Ibid., p. 7.
20
Blayney (1997), p. 385-86.
21
Hinks (2013), p. 115.
19
8
The second period, ranging from 1598 to 1613, saw the publication of a large number of
new plays after stationers noticed the relative popularity of printed playbooks in bookshops;
in those fifteen years publishers brought out nearly five times the amount of plays per year
compared to the first period.22 Interestingly enough, as Farmer and Lesser indicate:
“[…] this first extended boom was initially driven by a rapid increase in second
editions, not new plays. Of the forty new playbooks printed from 1589 to 1597, only
three had been reprinted before 1598 […]. But in 1598 and 1599 alone, eleven more of
those forty playbooks were reprinted, plus […] immediate reprints of two plays
published in 1598 and 1599.”23
Blayney demonstrates that its popularity in publishers is further stimulated by the fact that
second and third editions of plays involved lower production costs and thus yielded higher
profits compared to a first edition.24 The next financially sound, logical step for publishers
would be to make the transition to first editions, considering the newfound popularity of
playbooks. This started happening in 1600, along with the continuation of the reprinting trend;
not only did this boom result in a ‘deepening’ of stationer interest in playbooks, it resulted in
a ‘widening’ as well, as more and more stationers who had never before published a play
turned their attention on them.25
Several earlier critics have researched the sudden rise in supply, as we have not yet
approached this aspect of the market in much depth. Albright points to the struggling playing
companies due to a Privy Council order of June 22, 1600 in which “order was given for the
limitation of the houses to two, one on the Bankside and one in Middlesex. The plays were to
22
Farmer (2005), p. 10.
Ibid., p. 10.
24
Blayney (1997), p. 410-13.
25
Farmer (2005), p. 10.
23
9
be given only twice a week, and never on Sundays.” 26 This would then cause economic
difficulties, which might explain the increase in supply, as playing companies would have
wanted to make more money by making plays available to publishers. Farmer and Lesser
point to the fact that this theory however neglects demand by focusing only on supply;
stationers moreover were not obligated to buy the plays, meaning that the surge in first
editions from 1600 to 1602 was likely the result of an increasing demand among those
stationers “after it became clear in 1598 and 1599 that book buyers’ interest justified second
and third editions” as suggested above.27
Considering the time period, one need not look far to find the main benefactor to the
playbook market, namely William Shakespeare. Exactly one-fourth of first editions printed
between 1594 and 1600 were plays by him (fourteen out of fifty-six), of which eight received
a second edition within six years; on top of being the first English best-selling playwright, his
success led to a boom in printed editions of plays, helping establish the playbook market
itself.28
The relation between the performing of a play and the publication of one in printed form is
an aspect of the market to be noted before exploring the next distinct period. As suggested
before, despite the fact that playtexts were valuable to theater companies, it is only when it
was deemed a viable economic investment for stationers that the market can truly take off;
Farmer and Lesser note that “prefaces confirm that theatrical popularity was always one
element of print popularity, and publishers often advertised a play's performance history on its
title page.”29 It seems obvious that a play’s popularity would lead to there being a higher
demand, leading in turn to more publications “[b]ut while box-office success may have
26
Albright (1971), p. 266.
Farmer (2005), p. 11.
28
Ibid., p. 11.
29
Ibid., p. 11.
27
10
attracted customers to a new playbook, perhaps helping it to a second or even a third edition,
it also seems clear that printed drama was not merely parasitic on theatrical popularity.”30
The period ranging from 1614 to 1628 serves as proof of the suggestion that the success of
printed drama and theatrical popularity is not entirely interrelated. The contraction featuring
in this period is almost entirely attributed to the fact that first editions plummeted from 8.1 to
2.1 per year, with second-plus editions only dropping from 4.9 to 4.3 editions per year;
between 1626 and 1628 “not a single new professional play reached print, the first time such a
suspension of play publication had occurred since 1588” according to Farmer and Lesser. 31
They list several possible explanations, of which the most reasonable seems to be that the
supply of plays simply declined, which would explain why the contraction occurs
predominantly in the first editions.32 A reason for this decline is not given, though it might be
connected, partially, with the death of Shakespeare in 1616. The dichotomy between the
decline in the first and second-plus editions would then indicate that stationers simply turned
to reprints as a reliable source of income, an argument which is strengthened simply by
looking at the numbers; between 1576 and 1625, nearly 60 percent of second-plus editions
were reprinted within ten years and 72 percent were reprinted within twenty. 33 One could
safely state that reprints, therefore, “formed the backbone of the trade in printed plays” while
being “surely less dependent on theatrical popularity than first editions”, as Farmer and Lesser
conclude.34
Analyzing the remaining three periods would prove to be too tedious, as the main aim of
this section has been largely reached already, namely to establish the birth of the English
printed plays’ market and to highlight the rocky manner in which it did. Of significance is the
30
Farmer (2005), p. 11.
Ibid., p. 12.
32
Ibid., p. 12.
33
Ibid., p. 12-13.
34
Ibid., p. 13.
31
11
fact that second-plus editions prove to be a reliable source of income in moments of ‘first
edition’-decline; an analysis which will prove more significant when comparing it to the role
chapbooks had. Noted should also be the focus in this section on the viability of investment
and how much relied on the distributors. Naturally, this relatively short introduction to printed
plays will gain more significance in its entirety when compared to chapbooks. The
implication of course, as could be drawn from the introduction, is that chapbooks will prove
to be more culturally pervasive; the manner in which they are and which factors would argue
this statement will be explored in their titular section.
1.1.2.
THE OCCULT
1.1.2.1.
Henry Cornelius Agrippa
Transitioning now to the more esoteric subject of the occult, some introductions must be made
to Henry Cornelius Agrippa (1486-1535); the reasons for this introduction are twofold. The
first reason pertains to the fact that he was ‘hailed’ as “a prince of black magicians and
sorcerers” during the Renaissance, as Yates describes it, and as such serves as a good starting
point around which the idea of the occult can be built.35 The second reason is more direct in
that he is referenced in Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus by name, as Faustus states that he hopes to
be “as cunning as Agrippa was” by conjuring a demon, an obvious act connected to the
occult.36 Not only will it therefore provide a stepping stone towards the occult, it also serves
as a transition into some of the core subject material around which the micro-analysis will be
built. After this short introduction, we will move on to the stage itself, more specifically to
how ‘magic’ is adapted into the performances.
Before moving on to the actual introduction, a few notes should be made on the complexity
of the subject. Agrippa’s De occulta philosophia is generally seen as a sort of handbook of
35
36
Yates (1983), p. 37.
Marlowe (2006), p. 1027.
12
Renaissance magic and ‘Cabala’.37 This ‘Cabala’ can be understood as a system of Jewish
theosophy, as Bernard states, with a large influence to both Jewish and Christian exegetical
and theological literature in the Middle Ages.38 While an undoubtedly interesting system built
on theosophical arithmetic, going in depth on what Cabala truly entails would prove far too
arduous and lengthy a task to include here. As such, it should be realized that what will be
stated on the subject of the occult is embedded into a complex system of overlapping beliefs
connecting to various other scholars such as Giovanni Pico della Mirandola and Francesco
Giorgi and, consequentially, will merely scratch the surface. While oversimplifications will be
avoided, some scholarly conciseness is unfortunately necessary.
Arriving then at the so-called prince of black magicians, he is perhaps best characterized
by his previously mentioned De occulta philosophia. It is divided into three books which
handle varying forms of magic. The first book discusses natural magic, described by Yates as
arranging “substances in accordance with the occult sympathies between them”, creating a
sort of link which would then bring about ‘natural’ magic; the second book handles celestial
or ‘mathematical’ magic, aimed at using influences of the stars by means of number
operations, hence ‘mathematical’ magic; the third book is about ceremonial, religious magic,
which is connected to the “supercelestial world of angelic spirits” as Yates calls it, beyond
which would be God himself.39 In this short summary we see Agrippa moving from natural
magic to ‘star magic’ to magic which assumes an ability to be able to call upon the Names of
God, going far beyond natural and mathematical magic.40 While the third book is definitely
the ‘height’ of his transgressions (as was believed) regarding magic, ‘star magic’ in itself was
37
Yates (1983), p. 37.
Bernhard (1913), p. 9.
39
Yates (1983), p. 44-45.
40
Ibid., p. 45-46.
38
13
typically avoided by other scholars as it was believed that there were spirits connected to the
stars, which Agrippa himself calls “star demons”.41
Considering the subject matter of Agrippa’s De occulta philosophia and the boundaries he
transgressed in the eyes of his colleagues, the (albeit posthumous) witch-hunt surrounding his
‘black magician’ persona comes as no surprise then. Interestingly enough, he believed himself
to only be performing white magic by, for example, rendering these star demons safe through
“holy Cabalist influences” (which is an entirely different, equally complex debate), making
sure that he solely invokes good and holy angelic influences. 42 Note his own explanation,
apart from Yates’, which he includes in the introduction to De occulta philosophia, where he
addresses the reader:
I confess that Magick teacheth many superfluous things, and curious prodigies for
ostentation; leave them as empty things, yet be not ignorant of their causes. But those
things which are for the profit of men - for the turning away of evil events, for the
destroying of sorceries, for the curing of diseases, for the exterminating of phantasmes,
for the preserving of life, honor, or fortune - may be done without offense to God or
injury to religion, because they are, as profitable, so necessary.43
Agrippa’s appeal to his critics is far more understandable than the briefly touched upon
Cabalist workings above: using magic for good, no matter the form it takes, renders it
honorable, even necessary. Nevertheless, to the public eye he would likely be dabbling with
darker forces best left untouched despite his own efforts to appear as a ‘white’ magician;
superstition played no small role here.
41
Yates (1983), p. 45.
Ibid., p. 46.
43
Agrippa (1898), p. 26.
42
14
This difference between what Agrippa believed and what most others thought of him
makes Faustus’ role in Marlowe’s play doubly interesting. One could argue at first sight that
the play certainly serves as confirmation of Agrippa’s reputation as a black magician,
considering the fact that he conjures a demon and inevitably meets his end, succumbing to
demonic forces. Analyzing the play with the knowledge gained so far, however, shows it to
possess similar arguments to those Agrippa himself made. When the demon is conjured in
scene 3, Faustus, seemingly repulsed by his form, demands he returns in the shape of “an old
Franciscan friar, That holy shape becomes a devil best.”44 The speech he includes might as
well be from Agrippa himself:
I see there’s virtue in my heavenly words!
Who would not be proficient in this art?
How pliant is this Mephastophilis,
Full of obedience and humility,
Such is the force of magic and my spells.
Now Faustus, thou art conjurer laureate
That canst command great Mephastophilis.45
Faustus too believes himself to be so powerful he can cleanse the evil from the devil himself,
therefore considering his magic to be white. The shape of a ‘Franciscan friar’ is no
coincidence either: Francesco Giorgi, a Franciscan friar and Christian cabalist, served as one
of Agrippa’s prime scholarly sources on which he based part of his De occulta philosophia.46
Unfortunately, Faustus himself soon descends into what Agrippa warned against, namely
‘superfluous things’ and mere parlor tricks. It puts magic in a negative light but also includes
Agrippa’s arguments, indicating Agrippa himself would not have approved of Faustus’
44
Marlowe (2006), p. 1030.
Ibid., p. 1030.
46
Yates (1983), p. 4.
45
15
dealings. The play therefore allows for multiple interpretations, the most common
interpretation rendering the play a warning against black magic with a clear negative
connotation towards Agrippa. The informed audience however can nuance Agrippa’s role and
even defend his name by pointing out Faustus’ straying off the path set by Agrippa himself;
Faustus’ transgressions will be more touched upon later. Being somewhat initiated into some
core ideas surrounding the occult and having explored Agrippa extensively, let us now move
on to how magic ‘manifested’ itself onto the stage.
1.1.2.2.
Stage magic: performance and performatives
Drawing attention to how the play is actually performed will set up an important distinction to
be made between the theatre texts and the chapbooks. Theatre texts are, of course,
performance pieces, written to be acted out on the stage while chapbooks were more aimed at
personal or group reading, never to be performed at all. It is therefore imperative to consider
how the stage interacts with the text and how both instances influence each other, as it is a
dimension lost in chapbooks (or such is assumed). Predictably, words change by a
considerable degree when written for the stage, reflecting speech patterns for example. The
act of performing those words can furthermore lend substance to the experience as will be
shown, granted the ‘reader’ has attended the play and does not limit himself to the text itself
(an important distinction on which some reflection will feature later).
The question asked in this section is not only how an audience experienced a play, but also
what it meant to recite black magic on stage for an Elizabethan actor. As discussed before,
superstition among the lesser educated ran rampant, so what exactly happened when an actor
‘performed’ black magic on the stage? Looking at some accounts of the time, some players
disturbingly appeared to conjure actual devils to the stage:
16
Certaine Players at Exeter, acting upon the stage the tragical storie of Dr. Faustus the
Conjurer; as a certaine number of Devels kept everie one his circle there, and as Faustus
was busie in his magicall invocations, on a sudden they were all dasht, every one
harkning other in the eare, for they were all perswaded, there was one devell too many
amongst them; and so after a little pause desired the people to pardon them, they could
go no further with this matter; the people also understanding the thing as it was, every
man hastened to be first out of dores.47
What really happened is left to the imagination but one can imagine that the subsequent rise in
popularity of the theatre company is rooted in a scheme likely conjured up by the company
itself. Nevertheless, these stories were believed and even employed by those who were antitheatre, gratefully using the occurrence as an argument as William Prynne, 17th century
polemicist, is shown to do: “[…] the visible apparition of the Devill on the stage at the
Belsavage Play-house, in Queene Elizabeths dayes, (to the great amazement both of the
Actors and Spectators) whiles they were prophanely playing the History of Faustus (the truth
of which I have heard from many now alive, who well remember it).”48 He legitimizes his
claims by citing his sources, proving further that to the Elizabethan audience these things
were very real; note also his statement that performing the Faustus play was profane.
Sofer argues that “much of the fascination conjuring held for Elizabethan audiences can be
traced to its unnerving performative potential. More precisely, in plays such as Doctor
Faustus, conjuring models a performative speech act that threatens to blur the distinction
between theatre and magic.”49 Apart from theatre companies cashing in on the controversy
from ‘performing black magic’ on the stage, the play inherently “equates conjuring with the
47
Chambers (1923), p. 423-24.
Qtd. in Maclure (1979), p. 48.
49
Sofer (2009), p. 2.
48
17
dangerous verbal magic of performativity” instead of dismissing it as “mere charlatanism.” 50
In other words, the way in which the play was written allowed Elizabethan audiences to
believe that Faustus’ spells might indeed operate independent of the character or actor and it
was this “potential for inadvertent magic on the part of the players” as Sofer describes it
which caused them “to see devils that were not literally there.”51
So far we have mentioned the difference between white and black magic and have heard
Agrippa’s moral views on it. There are, however, a lot more aspects to the difference between
white and black magic; how could one explain for example that one scholar was accepted as
being just that, a scholar, while another was promptly persecuted on grounds of sacrilegious
offense? For, indeed, someone who desired to investigate black magic surely ran the risk of
being ‘exposed to it’ and consequently receiving the label of ‘heretic’. David Riggs provides
us clarity:
The passage from this so-called “natural” magic to idolatrous or “black” magic occurred
when the practitioner employed talismans, symbolic utterances or ritual practices in
order to operate a demon (spirit, intelligence or demigod) that embodied an occult force.
The boundary was imprecise, but somewhere along this spectrum the “white” magician
became an idolater practicing a pagan religion.52
Whereas Agrippa’s differences were based on morality, Riggs’ explanation is a lot more
practical; our focus here is on these “symbolic utterances”, wherein the explanation lies for
the power of Faustus’ words. An utterance that conjures a demon into the corporeal presence
of the magician has three important qualities that define it according to Sofer: it is imperative,
50
Sofer (2009), p. 2.
Ibid., p. 2-3.
52
Riggs (2004), p. 176-77.
51
18
citational and autonomous.53 A spell is imperative, because a demon is forced to answer to a
conjurer’s call; it is citational, as magic cannot work through improvisation – in order to be
effective, magical utterances have to be formulaic; it is autonomous in that the power to raise
a demon is entirely embedded into the utterance itself, not “in the will or intention of the
speaker”.54
Furthermore, on the subject of symbolic utterances, Austin makes the distinction between
constative and performative utterances: other than constative utterances, which describe
situations as they are, these spells are performative utterances, which bring into existence the
act they name. 55 Logically, performative utterances cannot be true or false, they are
categorized by whether they are effective or not. Austin gives an example where performative
utterances are not effective: “a performative utterance will, for example, be in a peculiar way
hollow or void if said by an actor on the stage, or if introduced in a poem, or spoken in
soliloquy.”56
By this logic, actors should have no fear reciting these performative utterances as they are
made safe by the conditions of their utterance, namely being spoken onstage. We can now
however, in light of the knowledge gained by studying these symbolical occurrences, give an
explanation why some actors have shown themselves to be fearful (other than the indirect
financial benefits a theatre company would get from staging such fear, as alluded to above).
This explanation connects back to what Sofer said earlier about the distinction between
theatre and magic: the actors and, mostly, the audience were fascinated because theatre kept
the difference between meaningless performance and effective performativity intentionally
53
Sofer (2009), p. 4.
Ibid., p. 4.
55
Austin (1962), p. 5.
56
Ibid., p. 14.
54
19
blurry.57 While a confusing concept, illustrating this ‘blurring’ by employing Doctor Faustus
did not prove a challenging task as it is riddled with examples of complex and contradictory
logic regarding performativity.
The scene in which Mephastophiles himself is conjured, arguably the most important
conjuration of the play, serves as an immediate instance of complicating performativity. As
Faustus relishes in his ability to conjure and control a devil, Mephastophilis reveals his
conjuration to be far more complex:
FAUSTUS: I charge thee wait upon me whilst I live,
To do whatever Faustus shall command,
Be it to make the moon drop from her sphere,
Or the ocean to overwhelm the world.
MEPHASTOPHILIS: I am a servant to great Lucifer,
And may not follow thee without his leave;
No more than he commands must we perform.
FAUSTUS: Did not he charge thee to appear to me?
MEPHASTOPHILIS: No, I came now hither of mine own accord.
FAUSTUS: Did not my conjuring speeches raise thee? Speak!
MEPHASTOPHILIS: That was the cause, but yet per accidens.58
The logic presented is, as shown, rather contradictory. As Sofer notes, Mephastophilis appears
to be saying that Faustus’ conjuring is hollow (in Austin’s sense), yet still effective despite
being so, its “ambiguous occult force” exceeding his will. 59 “Faustus’s summoning of a
demon may be the triumphant performative of which he boasts, or it may be just a stage-cue,
57
Sofer (2009), p. 10.
Marlowe (2006), p. 1030.
59
Sofer (2009), p. 14-15.
58
20
with Lucifer as the (perhaps visible) prompter.” 60 The exact workings are explained by
Mephastophilis himself and seem to confirm the previously mentioned autonomous aspect of
an utterance, where the power of a spell lies in the utterance itself and not in the will of the
performer:
MEPHASTOPHILIS: […]
For when we hear one rack the name of God,
Abjure the Scriptures, and his savior Christ,
We fly in hope to get his glorious soul;
Nor will we come unless he use such means
Whereby he is in danger to be damned:
Therefore the shortest cut for conjuring
Is stoutly to abjure the Trinity,
And pray devoutly to the prince of hell.61
Faustus’ utterances are necessary in order for something to be able to happen, but he himself
does not control what it is; according to Mephastophilis he has been summoned by an
utterance by which Faustus is “in danger to be damned”. Thus, Sofer continues, we finally
arrive at the dramatic suspense which captivated the audience’s mind: will Faustus ultimately
utter the damning words or has he already? 62 Will the actor playing Faustus not be damned
himself merely by quoting Marlowe’s utterances? Marlowe never allows Faustus to give a
definitive answer to these questions.
The play then quickly turns upon itself by making light of the difference between powerful
magic and mere theatrical tricks: Faustus’ desire to be a magician so powerful it would rival a
60
Sofer (2009), p. 15.
Marlowe (2006), p. 1030-31.
62
Sofer (2009), p. 15.
61
21
deity is soon forgotten when he is employed as a court magician, trying to please his patron.
Sofer notes however that this does not mean that all magic is mere theatre but that Faustus
simply does not know the difference; he settles for theatrical performance, such as the
conjuration of Alexander and his paramour, impersonated by demonic actors, not realizing
that Mephastophilis is tricking him into frittering his twenty-four years away on banalities.63
The act of conjuring a devil is even further trivialized when Robin and Rafe, two clownish
figures, accidentally make Mephastophilis appear in scene 8 by very poorly reading from
Faustus’ book in “Dog-Latin” as it is called.64 Despite giving a poor performance, Robin and
Rafe ‘succeed’ in giving their conjuring performative power.
Once more, the dichotomy between performance and performativity is of a complex
nature, to such an extent even that it is shown to be present on multiple levels, one being on
stage, the other being within the play itself. As mentioned before, some performances of
Doctor Faustus were so successful in blurring that distinction that there were reports of too
many devils appearing on stage. This, we now understand, can be attributed to the fact that
there is potential power in all performative speech, or as Faustus entrusts with the audience,
“[b]e silent then, for danger is in words.”65 Sofer aptly summarizes by stating that “[u]nlike
skeptical twenty-first-century scholars, Elizabethans understood that the distinction between
performance and performativity threatened to dissolve whenever an actor conjured a demon
onstage.”66
In conclusion to this section, lest we forget the purpose for which we introduced the occult
and its role on theatre, by considering the extra theatrical aspect playtexts have over
chapbooks, we must acknowledge there is a substantial loss of dimension and as such, ability
63
Sofer (2009), p. 17.
Marlowe (2006), p. 1044-45.
65
Ibid., p. 1051.
66
Sofer (2009), p. 21.
64
22
to ‘convince’. To compete with playtexts, chapbooks will have to prove themselves stronger
in different aspects than the theatrical, one in which it is entirely lacking, namely the stage
aspect. After having established the way in which playtexts came to be and researching how
the occult pervades Doctor Faustus’ play specifically, we can move on to the now frequently
mentioned section on chapbooks.
1.2. CHAPBOOKS
1.2.1.
CHARACTERISTICS
Understanding eighteenth-century chapbooks requires some notion of so-called ‘black-letter
broadsides’. These were typically, as Neuburg describes them, inexpensive single-sheet street
literature of various content such as ballads, riddles, jokes, or short stories but also featured
news and announcements, similar to today’s posters.67 Chapbooks then can be seen as a more
evolved or expanded version of these ballads, described as “a small paper-covered book or
pamphlet, usually measuring some three and a half inches by six inches, containing 4, 8, 12,
16 or 24 pages, and almost always enlivened by the inclusion of crude woodcut illustrations”
and while the latter were sometimes entirely irrelevant to the subject matter, they served by
adding “a degree of visual charm.” 68 Attributing to expanded format, it could now hold a
collection of ballads, known as garlands; other than increase in length it also did in scope,
including genres such as “manuals of prophecy and fortune telling”.69
The ‘evolution’ to chapbooks from ballads as it is described above is not one easily
explained. For a still relatively unsophisticated readership at that time, an increase in length
should not be expected to lead to an increase in sales and analyzing the “very considerable
growth of this type of product” by public taste often defies analysis, in Neuburg’s words. 70
67
Neuburg (1977), p. 103.
Ibid., p. 103.
69
Ibid., p. 103.
70
Ibid., p. 103.
68
23
The main reasons for the chapbooks’ rise in popularity can be found in practicality.
Chapbooks were put on offer by collectively so-called chapmen, comparable to the stationers,
ranging from “[peddlers], hawkers and other itinerant merchants”; distribution, in other
words, was widespread, “and ease of transport may well have become a consideration.” 71
Topicality of broadsides was its own selling-point of course, but topicality is by definition a
rather fleeting reason for sale. Chapbooks, in comparison, could sell over a wide span of time
due to lack of topicality; moreover, small books were likely easier to collect, keep clean and
transport compared to the larger, unwieldy broadsides.72
The shift from broadside to chapbook can furthermore be associated with the gradual shift
towards more widespread education. While the majority of the public was still largely
uneducated, the rise in availability of printed works allowed for more opportunities to get at
least a basic education; reading, according to Neuburg, would become a more private matter,
on all levels of society.73 The chapbooks’ more personal format logically lends itself to that
purpose better than broadsides, which truly were ‘street’ literature, “often pasted up in a
public place, or on the wall inside a house.”74 Other than this indirect educational influence,
there is of course the direct benefit that an increase in literacy simply allowed more people to
read; education might just have found itself in an upward curve at the same time chapbooks
became more readily available.
1.2.2.
OUT OF TRADITION
Despite being a particularly popular product, broadsides and chapbooks were frowned upon
rather severely by scholars, not only those witnessing their rise, but present-day scholars as
well. Francis J. Child, to name a nineteenth-century scholar, had this to say on broadsides:
71
Neuburg (1977), p. 103.
Ibid., p. 105.
73
Ibid., p. 105.
74
Ibid., p. 105.
72
24
“The vulgar ballads of our day, the “broadsides” […] belong to a different genus; they are
products of a low kind of art, and most of them are, from a literary point of view, thoroughly
despicable and worthless”; he even went so far as to write in the margins of a chapbook filled
with street ballads: “I shall not print this stuff!”75 Dugaw explains Child’s disgust through the
notion of ‘purity’; Child connects the golden age of ballads to tradition, and as such blames
urbanization and commerce for the degeneration of this golden age.76
This brings us back to the discussion of popular literature and its reputation as a nonreputable source for scholarly research. Child’s reaction to broadsides and chapbooks show
that there are a lot of misconceptions regarding the genre; Dugaw seeks to debunk some of
them:
While on the one hand these ephemeral pieces of paper have close ties to the rural and
lower-class people whose culture has been imagined “folklore,” at the same time, they
represent an upsettingly nonpastoral context fraught with the taint of economics,
modern class stratification, and the urban environment. An immense array of archival
material from the early modern era brings into view (if we look at it) a fascinating paper
marketplace for widespread popular preoccupations, customs, values, representations,
humor, pathos, aesthetics, and behaviors.77 [emphasis added]
In other words, while Child may have been right about his notion of ‘purity’, seeing as these
‘ballads’ and chapbooks do not limit themselves to the pastoral scene, they are far from
worthless considering this “immense array of archival material from the early modern era.”
Comparing the quantity, Dugaw mentions millions of chapbook histories and fictions being
printed by 19th century publishers, which is a vast difference from the relatively humble rise
75
Qtd. in Dugaw (1995), p. 9.
Dugaw (1995), p. 9.
77
Ibid., p. 10.
76
25
of playtexts in the late 16th and early to mid-17th century we discussed above; this underlines
once more the increased potential of influence chapbooks might have had. 78 Naturally, it
should be mentioned that in those several hundred years the publishing market expanded
considerably, so comparing the numbers is not entirely scholarly justified. Nevertheless, there
is enough evidence pointing towards the fact that chapbooks were far more popular than the
16th century playtexts, should the sheer amount of publications not be enough, not the least of
which are the heated protestations from various scholars of which Child is only one example.
Note the writer and radical Samuel Bamford, who describes his fascination of chapbooks and
similar texts:
At the corner of Hanging Bridge, near the Old Church yard, was a book-shop kept by
one Swindells, a printer. In the spacious windows of this shop, which is now ‘The
Wedding-Ring Coffee House’, were exhibited numerous songs, ballads, tales and other
publications, with horrid and awful-looking woodcuts at their head; which publications
with their cuts had a strong command on my attention. Every farthing I could scrape
together, was now spent in purchasing ‘Histories of Jack the Giant Killer’, ‘Saint
George and the Dragon’, ‘Tom Hickathrift’, ‘Jack and the Bean Stalk’, ‘History of the
Seven Champions’, […] and such like romances.79
Another story described by Neuburg marking the format’s popularity is that of Sir Joseph
Banks’ sister, a collector of chapbooks; on her buying a dozen chapbooks and paying one
shilling for it, the bookseller paid her threepence back, telling her to take two more.80 These
stories not only highlight their popularity, but their low cost and widespread availability as
well.
78
Dugaw (1995), p. 10.
Qtd. In Neuburg (1977), p. 113-14.
80
Neuburg (1977), p. 114.
79
26
While Dugaw’s particular study pertains to the influence of commercial texts over the oral
tradition, some of her conclusions can still be applied to our inquiry about the relation
between canon literature (applied to Dugaw’s article, the oral tradition) and popular texts
(broadsides and chapbooks). One such conclusion that is transferrable is that in order to
provide an accurate representation of a culture or time period, scholars need to include every
level of culture, ‘high’, ‘middle’ and ‘low’, commercial or non-commercial; doing otherwise
would be misleading.81 In the same vein is the realization that popular or “low” traditions of
common people have an equally important history, “which can be reimagined and traced”; it
is only when we undo the construct of ‘purity’, which excludes this material, that we can “cast
a necessary and honest light on the intellectual framework of our own inquiry.”82
1.2.3.
PLAYTEXTS AND CHAPBOOKS REVISITED
Now that we have confirmed chapbooks’ undervalued role of influence, we can make a more
direct comparison between playtexts and chapbooks, more specifically those chapbooks
containing adaptations of plays. As stated in the section on stage magic, playtexts had the
advantage over chapbooks of an added dimension, that of the stage itself. Seeing as it is
written as a play, it retains the ‘performative’ aspect better than the chapbook. We also
suggested that the two iterations of the story (the actual performance and the textual form)
influenced each other, which is a crucial aspect in our current discussion; it is the influence
chapbooks were said to have on the ‘updated’ plays which caused their already poor
reputation to deteriorate even further.
Much like Child who criticized the broadside ballads for their impurity, so too were
chapbook adaptations accused of corrupting traditional plays. Cawte, Helm and Peacock were
quoted to say: “The [Hero-Combat play] has been modernized and bowdlerised to a great
81
82
Dugaw (1995), p. 14-15.
Ibid., p. 15.
27
extent, and this is no doubt due to the prevalence of chapbooks and the acceptance of this type
in the Victorian nurseries.”83 Smith observes two main forms of textual degeneration said to
be resulted from the increasing popularity of chapbooks. On the one hand chapbooks were
suggested to be aesthetically inferior to the traditional texts; to further explain this she quotes
Cawte, Helm and Peacock once more, in which we read familiar arguments.84 They namely
“lack spontaneity and life, the lines are dull, and there is none of the verve which even the
most nonsensical traditional versions have.” 85 When these chapbooks were then in return
‘imposed’ on the traditional versions, they would lead to a language of far inferior quality. 86
The second form of textual degeneration ties in with the last-named argument, which Helm
explains as a process of rationalization and stereotyping:
All surviving texts seem to be late attempts to provide an acceptable verbal
accompaniment for a traditional revitalisation ceremony whose purpose had long been
forgotten by performers and audience alike, but which was deep-rooted because it
survived from primitive times, resilient enough to adapt itself to growing sophistication
as the centuries passed, and tenacious enough to have persisted into modern times
unchanged in action though altered by being given a stereotyped text. The country-wide
similarity of these texts argues a common archetype, usually assumed to be an early
chapbook, now lost, which enjoyed wide distribution and set the pattern now familiar.87
Chapbooks, in other words, would cause standardization among performed plays because of
their widespread popularity; all it would take was one popular chapbook to ‘corrupt’ a slew of
future texts.
83
Qtd. in Smith (1981), p. 209.
Smith (1981), p. 209.
85
Qtd. in Smith (1981), p. 209.
86
Smith (1981), p. 209.
87
Qtd. in Smith (1981), p. 209.
84
28
There are several problematic implications with these two proposals for textual
degeneration, however. The conventional definition of ‘traditional play’ among folklorists
includes the distinction that they did not depend on printed chapbook versions but on the local
variant, passed around orally.88 Separating the elements of a performed play’s text which can
be attributed to one source or the other, however, is understandably not an easy task to
accomplish; it soon emerged among scholars that very few plays can be said to have been
unaffected by print and thus be truly traditional according to said definition.89 This definition,
therefore, proves to be of little value to realistically denote what constitutes a traditional play.
With this particular distinction between the traditional and chapbook plays proven a weak
basis for research, we should wonder then on what criteria the texts of plays should be
examined; moreover, as Smith argues, the literary quality of the chapbook is not solely a
question of applying an aesthetic point of view. 90 While several scholars argue that the
language of traditional plays exceeds that of chapbook versions, there is little evidence
underlying that position; Helm himself never expanded on his statement that there is a
dichotomy between the two types of play. 91 Furthermore, textual examination was seen as
redundant “whether it consisted of a discussion of the source of lines and speeches or the
quality of the language in the plays” which resulted in the qualitative distinction between
chapbooks and traditional texts being rendered self-evident.92 Smith accounts this to the fact
that Helm and his predecessors mainly focused on the action rather than the texts themselves;
textual examination to them was too literary an approach and had no value with traditional
drama.93
88
Smith (1981), p. 209.
Ibid., p. 209.
90
Ibid., p. 210.
91
Ibid., p. 210.
92
Ibid., p. 210.
93
Ibid., p. 210.
89
29
Some scholars attempted to tread the literary grounds, which resulted in the discovery of
one feature which originates almost exclusively from the ‘traditional’ as opposed to the
‘chapbook’ speeches, namely that of ‘tangletalk’, a type of verbal play.94 To give an idea on
the methodology of such a discovery, Smith names the Antrobus Souling play: “much of the
contemporary text can be found in the corpus of material common to northern chapbooks.
Amongst the speeches which cannot be accounted for in such sources, however, is that of
Beelzebub,” who, she explains, has some added lines to the generally occurring introductory
rhyming couplets. 95 She then quotes Susan Pattison who discovered the following: “Wilf
Isherwood [a former member of the Antrobus Souling team] claims that he has added sections
to the play, in keeping with Cheshire dialect and custom, at the instigation of Major Boyd
who thought the play was too short.”96 Smith concludes that the occurrence of ‘tangletalk’
here can be characterized as typical forms of speech for folk plays, “full of the ‘verve’ of
traditional versions of text.”97 Not coincidentally do we find again, much like Dugaw did, that
forms of speech dating back to the oral tradition are considered qualitatively higher.
Several conclusions can be drawn from this long overview of the inter-relationship
between chapbooks and traditional plays. The most apparent conclusion remains that research
on the subject is sorely lacking in depth. While our own research will not focus on some of
the aspects which were proven insufficiently examined, the validity of studying chapbooks
should be evident; chapbooks are not the useless, impure adaptations of traditional texts as
scholars such as Child would make us believe. Its format lent itself to ease of use, which in
turn led to a widespread knowledge of the existence of plays and their texts, undoubtedly
keeping them ‘alive’. Their subsequent influence on both future texts and simply the people’s
94
Smith (1981), p. 211.
Ibid., p. 211.
96
Qtd. in Smith (1981), p. 212.
97
Smith (1981), p. 212.
95
30
knowledge on the subject itself can therefore not be underestimated, as it would have been
more likely for someone to have been in touch with the chapbook version.
Apart from the obvious scholarly justification of studying previously untouched texts, we
have the added advantage of broadening a field of study desperately in need of further
research. Now that we have the theoretical foundations on which our analysis is to be based,
the only thing resting us now is an overview of the ‘traditional’ play Doctor Faustus by
Christopher Marlowe. This overview will be systematic in nature, as what happens scene per
scene will be shortly analyzed, by which we can then compare the chapbook adaptations. As
the difference in content is being established, insight on the difference in magical events will
be given as well. While one of the main reasons of its popularity was the chapbooks’ format,
the content itself was likely to have been adapted to a broadening audience; some sensational
import is to be expected. How this is reflected in the respective texts will be discussed as well.
1.3. THE PLAY: DOCTOR FAUSTUS
The following systematic overview is based on the Norton Anthology for English Literature’s
version of Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, the same version used for the preceding textual
excerpts (the so-called A text). The overview will be structured scene per scene and will
include the most key information for easy reference. Note that due to the nature of a
summary, bibliographic references will have to be made in excess.
Prologue (Chorus 1)
A single actor, the Chorus, introduces the plot. 98 A short summary of Faustus’ youth and
education is given; born to humble parents in Rhodes, Germany he went to Wittenberg to stay
98
Marlowe (2006), p. 1024.
31
with family, where he studied theology and gained the title of doctor.99 Using the Icarus-myth
to suggest his downfall, mention is made of his recent endeavors into black magic.100
Scene 1
Faustus takes the scene, musing over what type of studies would prove the most rewarding.101
Considering logic, medicine, law and divinity (religion and theology), he settles on magic,
dismissing the others, as only magic might make him a deity.102
Wagner enters, a servant, of which Faustus asks to bring Valdes and Cornelius to tutor him
in magic.103 A good angel and an evil angel enter while Wagner is away; the good angel urges
him to turn to the Scriptures while the evil angel encourages him to pursue his desire to study
magic; Faustus suggests he will follow the evil angel’s advice.104 Valdes and Cornelius appear,
agreeing to teach him magic.105
Scene 2
Two scholars enter, enquiring about Faustus; Wagner tells them about Valdes and
Cornelius. 106 The two scholars, familiar with them, fear Faustus too will be damned by
studying magic.107
Scene 3
Faustus conjures the devil through a magic circle and a Latin incantation; Mephastophilis
appears, but is sent back to take on the shape of a Franciscan friar.108 Mephastophilis explains
he is a servant to Lucifer and can obey only him, revealing the nature of performatives; they
99
Marlowe (2006), p. 1024.
Ibid., p. 1024-25.
101
Ibid., p. 1025.
102
Ibid., p. 1025-26.
103
Ibid., p. 1026.
104
Ibid., p. 1026-27.
105
Ibid., p. 1027-28.
106
Ibid., p. 1028-29.
107
Ibid., p. 1029.
108
Ibid., p. 1029-30.
100
32
discuss hell and Lucifer’s fall from heaven.109 Faustus offers his soul in return for twenty-four
years of Mephastophilis’ service; Mephastophilis leaves to discuss the contract with Lucifer.
Faustus suggests he would give as many souls as there are stars for his service.110
Scene 4
Wagner converses with a clown, who he asks to become his servant; the clown agrees, but
then changes his mind.111 Wagner conjures two devils to convince him; the clown, terrified,
agrees to become his servant and asks if he can learn to conjure too.112 Wagner tells him he
will teach him how to transform into any animal instead.113
Scene 5
Faustus begins to doubt his decision while the good angel and the evil angel appear once
more; the former tries to make him repent while the latter argues Mephastophilis’ service will
prove to be worth the cost of his soul.114 Faustus conjures Mephastophilis again, who tells him
Lucifer has agreed to take his soul. 115 Faustus attempts to form a blood pact; it congeals
rendering him unable to write, making Faustus fear it is a warning.116 Mephastophilis clears
his blood with fire and the pact is made.117
Mephastophilis showers Faustus with lavish gifts to take his mind off the matter and
discusses hell with him; Faustus requests a wife, but is left disappointed when Mephastophilis
can only give him a she-devil as marriage is a sacrament.118 He then requests a magic book,
109
Marlowe (2006), p. 1030-1031.
Ibid., p. 1031-32.
111
Ibid., p. 1032-33.
112
Ibid., p. 1033.
113
Ibid., p. 1033.
114
Ibid., p. 1033-34.
115
Ibid., p. 1034.
116
Ibid., p. 1034-35.
117
Ibid., p. 1035.
118
Ibid., p. 1035-37.
110
33
which he gets; Faustus asks Mephastophilis all manner of things about the universe, but
offends the devil by asking who created all things.119
Faustus seeks to repent after another appearance of the angels, but Mephastophilis returns
with Lucifer and Belzebub, another devil; they put on a show of the Seven Deadly Sins;
Faustus is amused and receives a book with shapeshifting spells from Lucifer.120
Scene 6
Robin, a stablehand, has found one of Faustus’ books and convinces Rafe to go to a bar
together, where he will conjure up all sorts of things, among which spiced wine.121
Chorus 2
Wagners tells the audience Faustus has ridden a chariot through the firmament, led by
dragons, to learn the secrets of astronomy and to test if maps are drawn correctly. 122 He adds
Faustus will soon be in Rome to see the pope.123
Scene 7
Faustus tells Mephastophilis of his travels and asks if they have arrived in Rome;
Mephastophilis confirms, describing Rome in detail.124 They discuss a trick to be played on
the pope; Mephastophilis turns them invisible after which they enter the pope’s banquet,
snatch away food and conclude their prank by boxing the pope’s ear.125 Mephastophilis and
Faustus flee, watching the friars sing a dirge to damn the spirits who bothered them during the
meal; they beat the friars, fling fireworks among them and run away.126
119
Marlowe (2006), p. 1037-39.
Ibid., p. 1039-41.
121
Ibid., p. 1041.
122
Ibid., p. 1041-42.
123
Ibid., p. 1042.
124
Ibid., p. 1042-43
125
Ibid., p. 1043.
126
Ibid., p. 1044.
120
34
Scene 8
Robin and Rafe have stolen a goblet and are confronted by a vintner, demanding it back. 127
Robin conjures up Mephastophilis to scare him away; after the vintner flees, Mephastophilis,
annoyed, threatens to turn them into an ape and a dog; the two laugh the threat off.128
Chorus 3
The Chorus explains Faustus has returned home, where he gains renown by talking about the
things he has discovered; he became so famous he was invited by the Holy Roman Emperor
Charles V to demonstrate his arts.129
Scene 9
The Emperor explains he would like to see Faustus conjure the greatest ruler of all, namely
Alexander the Great, along with his lover or ‘paramour’.130 Despite the skepticism of a knight,
who promptly leaves, Faustus conjures up Alexander the Great and his lover; the Emperor
inspects them and deems them to be the physical bodies of the deceased; Faustus asks the
Emperor to call in the knight again, on whom he has conjured two horns for his disrespect
towards Faustus.131 The Emperor asks Faustus to turn him back to normal, which he does,
advising respect in the future and eventually leaves; the scene concludes by Faustus pondering
the rest of his life and returning to Wittenberg.132
Scene 10
Faustus encounters a horse trader, to which he sells a horse with the warning that he should
not ride it into water. 133 The trader leaves, leaving Faustus to sleep in his chair after he
ponders once again upon his quickly expiring life; the trader returns, having ridden the horse
127
Marlowe (2006), p. 1044.
Ibid., p. 1044-45.
129
Ibid., p. 1045-46.
130
Ibid., p. 1046.
131
Ibid., p. 1046-47.
132
Ibid., p. 1047-48.
133
Ibid., p. 1048.
128
35
into water, making it turn into hay.134 He tries to wake up Faustus to help him but ends up
ripping off Faustus’ leg; in fear for recourse, he runs away with the leg, after which Faustus
wakes, healing his leg and laughing at his own prank.135 Wagner enters, telling Faustus the
Duke of Vanholt has asked him to come, upon which Faustus departs.136
Scene 11
Faustus arrives at the court; having performed for the duke, he is pleased, but as Faustus
notes, the duchess does not seem pleased; she asks Faustus to procure her grapes, which do
not grow in January.137 Mephastophilis is ordered to bring them to her, which he does, gaining
Faustus the duke and duchess’ favor.138
Chorus 4
Wagner enters, regaling that Faustus has given him all his possessions, making him fear that
he is at the end of his life, but is confused as Faustus still partakes in lavish banquets with
students.139
Scene 12
Some scholars ask Faustus to conjure Helen of Greece, as they have deemed her the most
beautiful woman of all time; Faustus complies and they marvel in her beauty. 140 After the
scholars leave, an old man enters trying to make Faustus repent and turn away from reforming
his vow with the devil; Faustus hesitates but under threat of Mephastophilis confirms his vow
by once again signing with his blood.141 Faustus asks Mephastophilis to destroy the old man
for trying to dissuade him from signing the pact again, but Mephastophilis states that he
134
Marlowe (2006), p. 1048-49.
Ibid., p. 1049.
136
Ibid., p. 1049.
137
Ibid., p. 1049-50.
138
Ibid., p. 1050.
139
Ibid., p. 1050.
140
Ibid., p. 1050-51.
141
Ibid., p. 1051-52.
135
36
cannot draw him into hell as his soul is too pure; he can, however, destroy his body. 142 Faustus
asks Mephastophilis to let him see Helen again; he gives a speech on her beauty and leaves
with her.143 Devils enter as the old man gives a speech on Faustus’ pitiful state, stating he, at
least, will go to God.144
Scene 13
On the last day of the twenty-four years stipulated in the pact, a few visiting scholars ask
Faustus what is troubling him, upon which he tells them of the pact. 145 Shocked, they ask him
how they can help him; he tells them it is too late, upon which they leave, stating that they
will pray for him in the adjacent room.146 One hour before his time is up, he calls out in fear,
regretting his decision; in the last half hour, he calls to God and begs him to limit his time in
hell to only one thousand or one hundred thousand years, so long as he is saved at the end. 147
As the clock strikes twelve, devils enter who drag him down to hell.148
Epilogue
The Chorus, making reference to Apollo’s laurel bough, a symbol of wisdom, concludes by
stating that the wise should draw a lesson from this, namely that they should content
themselves with observing such foul practices and not venture into them.149
142
Marlowe (2006), p. 1052.
Ibid., p. 1052.
144
Ibid., p. 1053.
145
Ibid., p. 1053.
146
Ibid., p. 1053-1054.
147
Ibid., p. 1054-55.
148
Ibid., p. 1055.
149
Ibid., p. 1055.
143
37
CHAPTER 2: THE CHAPBOOK ADAPTATIONS
2.1. SURFACE ANALYSIS
2.1.1.
PREMISE
Of the three available chapbooks, two will be studied in detail. The reason for this is that two
of the chapbooks are largely the same in content, with the exception of some different
phrasing as well as a few minor spelling differences. Of those two, the version with the least
amount of spelling mistakes was chosen. While one could argue these spelling mistakes
contain their own implications as per quality of product and distribution, it is not an aspect
that will be focused on here; it is moreover more interesting to explore the differences
between two largely differing versions than two near-identical ones. Another reason for
choosing this version is that the non-chosen edition had some problems in successfully being
scanned and as such displays several pages with some words cut off, marring the possibility
of a good analysis.
Unfortunately, the chosen edition has the disadvantage of missing its final chapter and while
the other version does contain the final chapter, two pages are slightly damaged, covering up a
certain section. Research has shown however that the content of this chapbook is not limited
to these two editions; other chapbooks exist with the same chapter divisions and content. For
the sake of completeness, the content of the missing chapter will be extracted and presented
from a different variant of the same chapbook; for obvious reasons, while the final chapter
could to some extent enforce conclusions made in the previous chapters, its outlying source
should be kept in mind.
Before analyzing the content of the chapbooks, a surface analysis of said chapbooks will
prove insightful. In particular, the layout, structure, title and general presentation of the
chapbooks will be looked at more closely with the aim of finding previously made
38
conclusions reflected. After that, the two chapbooks will be discussed in much closer detail,
focusing on aspects such as the increased sensationalism and discursiveness compared to the
‘mothertext’ and the difference in presentation. For ease of reference, the two chapbooks will
be referred to in-text by their city of publication, Edinburgh and London respectively. Due to
there being no author, the footnotes will refer to the texts by a shorthand version of their
individual titles, which moreover reveals an interesting dichotomy between the two
chapbooks, namely the description of Faustus’ life being ‘wicked’ in the Edinburgh edition
and ‘wonderful’ in the London edition.
2.1.2.
EDINBURGH EDITION
The full title of this Edinburgh edition is The history of the wicked life and horrid death of Dr
John Faustus. Shewing How he Sold himself to the Devil to have Power for twenty four years
to do what he pleased, Also the Strange Things done by Him and Mephostophiles. Likewise,
An account how the Devil came for Him at the end of twenty four years, and tore Him in
pieces. Adjective-heavy with words such as “wicked”, “horrid” and “strange”, the title is
composed in a sensational manner; a woodcut illustration of a devil is included on the title
page to further its appeal.150 Of note, moreover, is the long, descriptive nature of the title, not
only giving a summary of the story but even revealing its ending. For the sake of attracting
more buyers, such a dramatic ending could naturally not be kept from this summary. It also
suggests that this was a well-known story with no fear of spoiling a reader’s pleasure.
Other than the city of publication, there is little in the form of publication data. It makes
note of the fact that it is “Printed for the Booksellers in Town and Country” but even a
publication date is absent. 151 An online search resulted in finding a chapbook with a very
similar title, namely The History of Dr. John Faustus. Shewing How he sold himself to the
150
151
The wicked life, p. 1.
Ibid., p. 1.
39
Devil, to have Power to do what he pleased for 24 Years. Also, strange Things done by him,
and his Servant Mephistopholes. With an Account how the Devil came for him, and tore him
to pieces.152 With a more concise and slightly less sensational title, this version is dated to
1787. A facsimile edition of this version also appears in John Ashton’s Chapbooks of the
eighteenth century.153 Comparing the Edinburgh edition to this 1787 edition shows not only a
more sensational title but also fourteen chapters as opposed to twelve, two revisions which are
likely the result of wanting to attract more readers. It is not unlikely therefore that the
Edinburgh edition was based on this late-eighteenth century chapbook variation of the Faustus
story and came later. To support this claim further, there exists a chapbook with a title even
closer to the Edinburgh edition mentioned in the second series of the Early American Imprints
(a vast digital and microprint collection of books, pamphlets and broadsides) namely The
Devil and Doctor Faustus containing the history of the wicked life and horrid death of Doctor
John Faustus: and shewing how he sold himself to the Devil, to have power for twenty-four
years to do what he pleased: also, the strange things done by him and Mephostophiles: with
an account how the Devil came to him at the end of twenty four years and tore him to pieces,
which was originally published in 1807.154 Based on all this information, one can surmise that
the Edinburgh edition must be dated around the early-19th century.
Finally, we can see the previously iterated cheap nature of the medium reflected in its
layout. Other than the title page, which understandably has to look attractive, margins are kept
to a minimum and blank lines are completely eschewed. Font size visibly changes presumably
in order to fit a paragraph or chapter on one page, or, alternatively, to not exceed the amount
of pages a common chapbook format would hold.155
152
The History of Dr. John Faustus (1787), p. 1.
Ashton (1882), p. 38-52.
154
The Devil and Doctor Faustus (1807).
155
E.g. the transition on page 20 and onward in The wicked life, likely to have been 24 pages long.
153
40
2.1.3.
LONDON EDITION
The full title of the London edition is The wonderful life and remarkable death of the
renowned John Faustus, D.D. Containing all his acts of necromancy, from the time of his
compact with Lucifer to his Miserable End, at the expiration of that term. With a slightly
shorter title than the Edinburgh edition and lacking a woodcut illustration, this edition boasts a
significantly longer story with about ten pages of extra content spread over twenty-nine
chapters. Other than “miserable”, eye-catching adjectives include “wonderful”, “remarkable”
and “renowned”, which are notably more positive than the Edinburgh edition’s title’s
adjectives.156
Compared to the Edinburgh edition, the London edition also contains more publication
data. This particular edition is namely “Newly translated from the original MSS” and “Printed
for T. and R. Hughes, 35, Ludgate-Hill, Corner of Stationers-Court, At the Franklin Press,
Queen-Street, Cheapside”. 157 On its final page it also lists “Hamblin and Seyfang” as its
publisher.158 While it is once again undated, a Catalogue de livres from 1822 lists a particular
“Newly translated from the original MSS” London version as being published in 1814. 159
With the inclusion of this ‘tag-line’ in said catalogue it is likely that this is the very same
edition.
As per layout, the London edition too confirms the chapbooks’ cheap nature with an even
smaller font than the Edinburgh edition with similar margins and lack of blank lines. While
the font size here is constant, this 40-page edition exceeds the typical chapbook format of 4, 8,
12, 16 or 24 pages. It also includes a price on the first page, being sixpence per copy.160
156
The wonderful life, p. 1.
Ibid., p. 1.
158
Ibid., p. 40. Note that the title page skips to page 7 in the Ghent University Chapbook Project version.
159
Catalogue de livres, p. 3.
160
The wonderful life, p. 1.
157
41
2.2. DETAILED ANALYSIS
2.2.1.
EDINBURGH EDITION
2.2.1.1. Structure and style
This chapbook is divided into fourteen chapters. Each chapter is preceded by a short summary
of what happens therein, for example: “How he struck a parcel of students that were fighting
together blind; and how he served a parcel of clowns who were singing and ranting in an
inn.”161 Due to the condensed layout, the chapter summaries serve well as a structuring device
and assist in its readability which due to its popular format was one aspect that could not be
skimped on.
The story itself is linear and told entirely without any apparent dialogue or better said,
quotation marks, as closer inspection does reveal sentences that are read as direct speech, but
without any indication thereof, as seen in the following example: “Mephostophiles answered,
knowest thou, that before the fall of Lucifer, there was no hell, but upon his fall, was hell
ordained. As for the substance of hell, we devils do not know; it is the wrath of God that
makes hell so furious […] when thou comest there thou shalt be satisfied as we know
ourselves.”162 While not a huge annoyance, it does impact readability negatively.
Sentences are structured with an abundance of commas and semicolons, leading to pagelong sentences. To give an idea of the type of long, winding sentences this chapbook contains,
this excerpt from the first chapter serves well:
His father was a poor laboring man, not able to bring up his son; but he had a brother in
the same country, who was a very rich man, but had never a child, and took a great
fancy to his cousin, and he resolved to make a scholar of him; and in order thereunto,
put him to the Latin school, where he took his learning extraordinary well; afterwards
161
162
The wicked life, p. 17.
Ibid., p. 14-15.
42
he put him to the university to study divinity; but Faustus could in no wise fancy that
employment; wherefore he betook himself to the studying of that which his inclination
was most for, viz. necromancy and conjuration, and in a little time few or none could
outstrip him in the art: he also studied divinity of which he was made doctor; but within
a short time fell into such deep fancies and cogitations that he resolved to throw the
scriptures from him […].163
The first chapter of this chapbook consists, in fact, of only two sentences. One introductory
sentence, stating that Faustus was born in Germany, followed by the long summarizing
sentence on his youth and how he came to study necromancy as seen above.164 A writing style
that would be frowned upon today, it is not as hampering to this story’s allure due to its
sensational nature, which will be explored in the following section.
2.2.1.2. Content comparison
So far, we can identify two major aspects in our analysis. One aspect is that of the chapbook
phenomenon itself, including its birth, rise, nature, characteristics and how it compares to
theatre texts; the other aspect is that of the occult and the nature of (stage) magic. These two
aspects then have been discussed under the overarching subject of the Doctor Faustus story.
Consequently, while the comparison will try to be as complete as possible, the focus will
remain on these two aspects that have permeated throughout the analysis. The content will be
discussed chapter per chapter and compared to the ‘mothertext’, namely Marlowe’s Doctor
Faustus; external influences and their possible origin will be focused on as well. Afterwards,
a short chapbook-wide conclusion will be made based on the information distilled from the
chapter-per-chapter analysis. The same will be done for the London edition. When both
chapbooks have thusly been analyzed, the two chapbooks will be compared to each other.
163
164
The wicked life, p. 2-3.
Ibid., p. 2-3.
43
Chap. I.
“Dr Faustus’s Birth and Education; with an account of his falling from the Scriptures.”165
As the short summary reveals, an account is given of Faustus’ youth and education. Born in
Germany, once again due to the relative poverty of his parents, Faustus moved to live with
more financially stable family, specified to an uncle here.166 While the chapbook shows clear
influence from the play in the description of his youth, it turns to his necromancy much
sooner: he was put in Latin school and studied divinity, but he turned his attention “to the
studying of that which his inclination was most for, viz. necromancy and conjuration […]
charms and soothsaying, witchcraft, and the like.” 167 Faustus’ lengthy ramblings, Latin
sayings and references to various biblical and mythological sources in Marlowe’s version are
completely abolished in favor of getting to the core of the story, being magic and its various
iterations. These details were likely left out of the story not only to make for a more
sensational read but also for it to remain accessible to readers less familiar with the relevant
intertextual knowledge.
Chap. II.
“How Dr Faustus conjured up the Devil, making him appear at his house.”168
Without mention of Wagner, the two scholars or the interference of the angels, Faustus is
found walking through some woods near Wirtemberg (or Wittenberg) with an unspecified
friend who is curious about the doctor’s art.169 Faustus complies, conjuring up Mephostophiles
before him in a much grander display than the play’s description:
[…] and the devil upon the first call made such a noise in the wood, as if heaven and
earth would have come together; then the devil made such a roaring, as if the wood had
been full of wild beasts. The doctor made a circle for the devil, the which circle the
165
The wicked life, p. 2.
Ibid., p. 2.
167
Ibid., p. 3.
168
Ibid., p. 3.
169
Ibid., p. 3-4.
166
44
devil ran round, making a noise as if ten thousand waggons had been running upon
paved stones. After this it thundered and lightened as if the whole world had been on
fire. […] Faustus calls again after his former manner, after which there was a cry in the
wood as if hell had been opened, and all the tormented souls had been there; Faustus in
the mean while, asking the devil many questions, and commanding him to shew many
tricks.170
Other than the return of the magic circle, there is little similarity between this chapbook’s
version of summoning Mephostophiles and the play’s version. Whereas the chapbook cuts a
lot of content of the arguably less exciting parts, it overindulges in describing the more
magically-oriented sections. Far removed from the, in comparison, rather tame Latin spell of
the mothertext, Mephostophiles appears as an all-powerful creature, capable of practically
sundering the world. References are continually being dropped in favor of more exhilarating
imagery.
Chap. III.
“How Mephostophiles came to Dr Faustus’s house, and what happened between them.”171
Faustus conjures Mephostophiles a second time, and starts listing his desires, consisting of the
promise by Mephostophiles to attend Faustus at all times whenever he pleases, as well as give
and tell him anything he desires to know. 172 Mephostophiles’ reply here shows both an
important similarity as well as a critical difference to his reply in Marlowe’s play:
The spirit answered him and said, he had no such power of himself, until he had
acquainted his prince that ruled over him; for, said he, we have rulers over us, that send
us out, and command us home, when they please; and we can act no farther than our
170
The wicked life, p. 4-5.
Ibid., p. 5.
172
Ibid., p. 5-6.
171
45
power is, which we receive from Lucifer, who you know for his pride was thrust out of
heaven.173
The similarity here is the way in which Mephostophiles describes the powers by which he
appears. As we noted in the section on stage magic when discussing performance and
performativity (see 1.1.2.2.), Faustus himself had some role in conjuring up Mephostophiles,
but it is little more than a stage cue. Here too Faustus’ role in making Mephostophiles appear
is little more than that for, after all, they have rulers over them that send them out and
command them home when they please. Herein lies the difference as well, as Marlowe’s
Mephostophiles claims he “came now hither of mine own accord.” 174 This Mephostophiles
however is entirely dependent on his rulers and Lucifer in particular; the play’s
Mephostophiles needed Lucifer’s permission to grant Faustus’ wishes which he shares with
the chapbook’s version, but he was more independent in his appearance. In other words, the
chapbook shows traces of the same ‘rules’ of magic the play had, but simplifies the process
and excludes the complicated discussion on hell, simply concluding by saying: “I am not to
tell you any more except you make yourself over to us.”175
Faustus’ internal struggles continue to remain not personified by angels, and merely
thought by himself “how he might obtain his desire, and not to give his soul to the devil.” 176
Although, as soon as Mephostophiles appears to him at night (another similarity) with
Lucifer’s permission to give him everything he wishes, he “withdrew and pricked his wrist,
receiving the blood in a small saucer, which cooled so fast, as if it forwarned him of the
hellish act he was going to commit; nevertheless he put it over embers to warm it and writ as
followeth.”177 We see another iconic scene reinterpreted, namely the congealing of Faustus’
173
The wicked life, p. 6.
Marlowe (2006), p. 1030.
175
The wicked life, p. 6.
176
Ibid., p. 7.
177
Ibid., p. 7-8.
174
46
blood when he attempts to form the blood pact. Much less hesitant here, Faustus fetches the
fire himself rather than Mephostophiles and seems almost eager to damn himself. The
wording of the pact itself shows direct influences from the play as displayed below:
Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus
I, John Faustus of Wittenberg, doctor, by
Edinburgh Edition
I, John Faustus, approved doctor of divinity,
these presents, do give both body and soul to
with my own hand do acknowledge and
Lucifer, Prince of the East, and his minister
testify myself to become a servant to Lucifer,
Mephastophilis; and furthermore grant unto
prince of Septentrional and Orient […]; in
them that, four and twenty years being
consideration for the space of twenty four
expired, the articles above-written inviolate,
years […]: at the expiration of which, from
full power to fetch or carry the said John
the date ensuing, I give to him all power to
Faustus, body and soul, flesh, blood, or
do with me at his pleasure; to rule to fetch
goods, into their habitation wheresoever.178
and carry me where he pleases body and
soul: […].179
Despite the obvious similarities, some subtle differences are notable. One obvious
difference is the inclusion of Mephostophiles in Marlowe’s version of the pact, reinforcing the
idea that he is less of a pawn-figure than he is in the chapbook. Another remarkable difference
is Lucifer’s title in each version; in Marlowe’s play he is the Prince of the East, whereas in the
chapbook he is prince of ‘Septentrional’ and ‘Orient’, which roughly translate to ‘belonging
of the north’ and ‘belonging to the east’. 180 Both associations with directions bear some
explanation. The association with the east is likely derived from the meaning of the word
‘lucifer’ itself in the Latin Vulgate, being ‘light-bringer’ or ‘the morning star, the planet
Venus’, which, rising in the east, makes Lucifer the so-called Prince of the East indeed. 181
While the sudden use of the more uncommon words ‘septentrional’ and ‘orient’ is surprising
178
Marlowe (2006), p. 1036.
The wicked life, p. 8.
180
Lewis (1891), p. 1278, 1675.
181
Ibid., p. 1080.
179
47
considering the previous observations of simplifications in the chapbook, the association with
the north might offer some explanation. While not as obvious, there is a phenomenon in
medieval and earlier times called “the Devil’s Door”. Churches were generally built such that
the main entrance would be on the south, as the northern side was commonly associated with
the devil, according to McNamara due to an association with old pagan symbols: “During the
early period of the Christian church, those who still clung to the old pagan beliefs could enter
the church through this [Devil’s] door, for many still wanted to continue to worship at the old
pagan sites that the Christians had built over.”182 This then could explain the added association
of Lucifer with the north and similarly appeal to an audience that might still be familiar with
these superstitious beliefs.
Chap. IV.
“What happened to Dr Faustus after the signing of the Articles.”183
After the signing of his pact, celestial and metaphysical discussions as they appeared in the
play are omitted in favor of a simple display of animals fighting each other, going as far as to
include a dragon.184 While a short chapter, it does present an interesting characterization of
Faustus missing in the play: “[…] for there was never any thing given to the poor, which
before Faustus made this contract was frequently done; but the case is now altered.”185 Rather
than a gradual moral degradation, Faustus is openly being depicted here as a villain in an
almost childish manner.
Chap. V.
“How Faustus served the Duke of Bavaria.”186
The fifth chapter starts out by revealing Faustus is being entirely shunned by “his neighbours”
who had found out he sold his soul to the devil, leaving him to be constantly alone with only
182
McNamara (2007), p. 291.
The wicked life, p. 9.
184
Ibid., p. 9.
185
Ibid., p. 10.
186
Ibid., p. 10.
183
48
“his spirit”, Mephostophiles.187 With this almost typical rural scene where neighbors would
gossip, the chapbook seems to skip ahead to the play’s later chapters where Faustus does little
more than play pranks for his own amusement. The scene where Faustus snatches away food
unnoticed from the pope is ‘recycled’ here, where it happens during a banquet at the Duke of
Bavaria’s estate with Mephostophiles’ help. 188 The chapter ends with an interesting metareference: “The devil also taught Faustus to fly into the air, and to act many things which are
incredible, and too large for this small book to contain.” 189 While this literary device is
certainly peculiar, one should not forget that it is little different from a play’s chorus
addressing the audience as it, too, breaks the fourth wall. The statement it makes is almost
comically accurate as it seems to affirm the reason for all the previously mentioned ‘cut
content’.
Chap. VI.
“How Dr Faustus dreamed of Hell in his sleep, and what he saw there.”190
This chapter starts by, again, summarizing a large part of the play by stating that “Faustus had
a long conference with his spirit concerning the fall of Lucifer, and the state and condition of
all the fallen angels.”191 Faustus then falls into a dream vision of hell, where Mephostophiles
acts as a guide; the scene is more reminiscent of Dante’s Inferno rather than the play’s own
description of the workings of hell, however, as it shows little more than ironic punishments
for each type of sinner. 192 One example includes physicians who, having “poisoned many
thousands to try practice” were now bound with “a shelf laden with gallipots full of poison”
over their heads.193 Along with the display of animals, it is a scene that seems to be entirely
missing from the play. The chapter ends, however, with Faustus asking Mephostophiles
187
The wicked life, p. 10-11.
Ibid., p. 11.
189
Ibid., p. 11-12.
190
Ibid., p. 12.
191
Ibid., p. 12.
192
Ibid., p. 12-14.
193
Ibid., p. 12-13.
188
49
questions about the origins of hell, a discussion closer again to the play; as he explains the fall
of Lucifer, one interesting difference is that Mephostophiles seems to have no trouble
mentioning the name of God here, as “it is the wrath of God that makes hell so furious”,
whereas he would warn him of focusing on hell and Lucifer instead in the play.194
Chap. VII.
“Containing some Tricks of Dr Faustus.”195
Continuing with following the play’s example, the seventh chapter has Faustus visiting the
Emperor. The focus in the chapbook, however, lies entirely on fastening a pair of horns on a
lord, much like the play’s knight, without any mention of conjuring Alexander; typical for the
chapbook’s more frivolous nature is that the afflicted here does not ridicule Faustus but is
merely subject to a random prank.196 After ridding the lord of his horns, he seeks revenge on
Faustus in another unique scene different from the play.197 The lord, seeking to ambush the
doctor, is afflicted with a more permanent condition this time:
Faustus coming by the woodside, beheld the lord mounted upon a mighty warlike horse,
who ran full drift against Faustus, who, by the help of his spirit, took him, and all, and
carried him before the emperor’s palace, and grafted a pair of horns on his head as large
as an ox’s: which he could never be rid of, but wore them to his dying day.198
Chap. VIII.
“How Dr Faustus ate a load of Hay.”199
In this chapter, Faustus fools a man by asking him to name his price to fill himself with hay;
the man thinking him a madman names the low price of one penny, upon which Faustus
devours half the load, much to the amusement of the doctors and “masters of arts” that
194
The wicked life, p. 14-15.
Ibid., p. 15.
196
Ibid., p. 15-16.
197
The B-text of Doctor Faustus does feature a ‘revenge’ scene but is entirely different from the chapbook’s.
198
The wicked life, p. 16.
199
Ibid., p. 16.
195
50
accompanied him.200 Upon arriving home, the countryman discovers Faustus has somehow
conjured the hay back into the cart, making the prank largely harmless and lighthearted.201
Chap. IX.
“How he struck a parcel of students that were fighting together blind; and how he served a
parcel of clowns who were singing and ranting in an inn.”202
The first in a series of chapters with entirely different content from the play, this chapter starts
with one group of students facing off against another; interestingly, the two groups of students
are described as consisting of thirteen members on the one hand, and seven on the other. 203
The significance of those numbers should be obvious, as the ‘unlucky’ number thirteen has
the upper hand against the more ‘holy’ number seven, another sign of evil influences
corrupting good. One should note, however, the difference in religious significance as thirteen
is more typically unlucky in a superstitious context, while seven is more securely rooted in
various biblical references such as there being seven days of Creation, seven pairs of every
clean animal to be brought on Noah’s ark, seven years of plenty and seven years of famine,
and so on.204 The number thirteen being placed against the number seven could be another
instance of folkloric influence into the chapbook as an appeal to its readers. The struggle
between the two groups of students is resolved as Faustus strikes the thirteen students with
blindness, causing them to attack each other; when they are led to their chambers, their sight
is restored.205
The second chapter’s scene is slightly more sinister, as Faustus curses “a parcel of drunken
clowns” so as to lock their mouths wide open because he “was disturbed by the halooing and
bauling.”206 This scene, however, has no harmless resolve in the end: “[…] and after they had
200
The wicked life, p. 16-17.
Ibid., p. 17; this is another scene that is inspired by the B-text version, but is changed in the chapbook.
202
Ibid., p. 17.
203
Ibid., p. 17-18.
204
King James Bible (2001), Gen. 1; Gen. 7.2; Gen. 41.29-30.
205
The wicked life, p. 18.
206
Ibid., p. 18.
201
51
waited one upon another, without being able to speak, thinking they were bewitched, they
dropped one by one in a sinking fear, and never could be got to the house afterwards.”207
Whereas permanent curses have featured before in the lord’s horns, the conclusion to this
encounter rings rather chillingly as his being annoyed is far removed from the previous
instance where he was in actual danger.
Chap. X.
“How Dr Faustus helped a young man to a lady.”208
Perhaps the most out of place chapter in the whole chapbook, Faustus here helps a man to
‘seduce’ a lady; as one might expect, he does this not with advice but rather “by this
damnable practice.”209 The man, explaining his case to the doctor asking for his aid, is met in
kind as Faustus gives him an enchanted ring, “and no sooner had she the ring but her heart
burnt with love to him; she instead of frowns, could do nothing but smile upon him […]. So
they were married the next day, and all by the help of Dr Faustus.”210 Forced love by some
enchanted trinket is not an uncommon trope in folklore, love potions falling under the same
denominator, though it is often employed by charlatans and rarely work as effectively as they
do here; for this theme to be included here, one might consider it a remnant of the long
continental European witch craze ranging from the 14th to the 17th century, as Nachman BenYehuda describes it.211 For indeed, the essential characteristics of European witchcraft practice
include its “extremely specifics goals (love potions […] and the like)”; while out of place, in
other words, it would have been a commonly known story development for its contemporary
readers, as it remains today.212
207
The wicked life, p. 18.
Ibid., p. 19.
209
Ibid., p. 19.
210
Ibid., p. 20.
211
Ben-Yehuda (1980), p. 1.
212
Ibid., p. 3.
208
52
Chap. XI.
“How Dr Faustus made seven women dance naked in the market place.”213
Featuring another of the more questionable pranks, but similar to the previous ones, Faustus
conjures away the wares of some female vendors; when they subsequently seek to retrieve
their goods, Faustus removes their clothes by magic.214 After dancing in the marketplace for a
while, their goods are returned in a similar fashion to the load of hay, and the women are “set
at liberty.”215 No mention is made of whether they retrieve their clothes as well.
Chap. XII.
“How Faustus served a Country Fellow that was driving of Swine.”216
The last ‘misplacement prank’ chapter is prefaced by making one hundred swine dance on
their hind legs, playing fiddles. 217 After Faustus conjures them back to normal, the driver
quickly sells his entire sounder of swine; Faustus then conjures them back to the driver’s
house.218 The angry customers demand their money back, which he is forced to give; upon
returning home he finds his swine in their pigsties.219
Chap. XIII.
“How Dr Faustus began to bethink himself of the near approach of his end.”220
This penultimate chapter turns back to the ‘main story’ as Faustus is at the end of his twentyfour years and worry sets into his mind again as he “began to consider what he should do to
cheat the devil, but could not find any way to prevent his miserable end, which was now near;
whereupon he thus cries out to himself, O miserable wretch that I am! I have given myself to
the devil for a few years pleasure, to satisfy my carnal and devilish desires and now I must
213
The wicked life, p. 20.
Ibid., p. 20-21.
215
Ibid., p. 21.
216
Ibid., p. 21.
217
Ibid., p. 21.
218
Ibid., p. 21.
219
Ibid., p. 21.
220
Ibid., p. 22.
214
53
pay full dear.”221 This chapter is again under clear influence of the play, as here too an old
man attempts to get Faustus to repent, which he initially tries to do; much like the play,
however, Mephostophiles stops him and “began to approach him with breach of covenant to
his lord Lucifer, and thereupon almost twisted his neck round, threatening him so dreadfully,
that through fear he confirmed all he had done before.” 222 Whereas the old man, the
threatening by Mephostophiles and the reconfirmation of the pact are similar elements to the
play, the ‘threatening’ aspect turns much more violent here, as in Marlowe’s words
Mephostophiles only threatened Faustus with words, namely “Revolt, or I’ll in piecemeal tear
thy flesh.” 223 It is another example of the chapbook’s Mephostophiles appearing more
menacing and powerful compared to the play’s Mephostophiles, despite the latter’s more
independent stature.
Chap. XIV.*
“How Dr Faustus was warned of the Spirit to prepare for his End.”224
As stated before, this chapter was missing from the Edinburgh version, and is taken from a
different, very similar edition. This final chapter follows the play very closely; Faustus invites
a few doctors, students and scholars to his estate; the scholars, noticing Faustus’ grim
countenance, ask what is troubling him, upon which he reveals his fate. 225 The same
exclamations of wanting to help emerge but again they come to realize that nothing can be
done anymore; Faustus laments his previous attempts of trying to repent and explains he
would have done so had Mephostophiles not threatened and averted him at every turn. 226 The
scholars, doctors and students move to the adjacent room, “intending to hear his end.”227
221
The wicked life, p. 22.
Ibid., p. 22.
223
Marlowe (2006), p. 1052.
224
Cunningham (2011), p. 297.
225
Ibid., p. 297.
226
Ibid., p. 297.
227
Ibid., p. 298.
222
54
Much like Mephostophiles’ conjuring, Faustus’ end is more dramatic and violent than the
play’s description:
About twelve o’clock the house shook so terribly that they thought it would have been
down upon them, and suddenly the house windows were broken to pieces, so that they
trembled and wished themselves elsewhere, whereupon a great clap of thunder, with a
whirlwind the door flew open, and a mighty rushing of wind entered with the hissing of
serpents, shrieks and cries […]. When daylight appeared, they took the boldness to enter
the room, and found his brains beaten out against the wall and the floor sprinkled with
blood; but missing his body, they went in search of it, and found it on the dunghill
mangled and mashed to pieces.228
Other than the particularly brutal description of Faustus’ mangled body, the fact it is even
there is peculiar as one would expect it, too, would have been dragged down to hell; his lost
soul is taken more literal here as it almost seems they ripped it from his body. Direct
examples of the play’s influence can be seen in the thunder and lightning and even the
mention of serpents’ hissing, as Faustus exclaims “Adders and serpents, let me breathe
awhile!” when the devils come to claim him.229
The final sentence serves as a ‘morale’ and warning to the readers: “So ended this
miserable wretch’s life, forsaking God and all goodness, and given up to his implacable
enemy, which we hope may stand not only as a fearful, but lasting monument and warning to
others.”230 Less ‘intellectual’ and more direct in its message, the pervasive mode throughout
the chapbook, it presents Faustus’ life (and mutilated body) as an example of what might
happen should one forsake God and choose the devil instead.
228
Cunningham (2011), p. 298.
Marlowe (2006), p. 1055.
230
Cunningham (2011), p. 298.
229
55
2.2.1.3. Final Analysis
As stated above, one pervasive characteristic of the chapbook is its tendency to follow the
play closely but concisely with a few subtle differences, leading to some interesting
discoveries such as the concept of the Devil’s Door. Several minor characters and relatively
unimportant (to the main narrative) scenes are removed in favor of a dramatic elaboration of
the more iconic scenes, such as the conjuring of Mephostophiles and the end of Faustus
himself. The medium itself can be given as a reason here, as it merely needs to describe and
not act it out on stage, allowing for more impressive imagery with less effort; the ‘targeted’
audience is another factor because, as we know, its cheap price and availability allowed for a
far greater readership, meaning it would aim to please as many of its readers as possible.
Consequently, many of the more ‘learned’ references and complicated discussions were
removed, such as the story of Icarus and the discussion on celestial bodies, in favor of more
well-known stories sourced from folklore, such as the enchanted trinket or ‘love potion’ story.
Of the fourteen chapters, ten are at least partially inspired by the play, while four feature
completely different events, namely chapter nine to twelve. The nature of these chapters give
the chapbook a more picaresque feel, with Faustus as the roguish hero, playing pranks on
various victims. In these stories we see the most direct influence of the need to appease a
more lower class audience; the chapters are almost entirely discursive and feature little story
development, other than the further negative characterization of Faustus. The play itself
features ‘comic relief’ scenes too, of course, but do not normally include Faustus; they also
generally focus on the dangers of dealing with the devil, rather than just playing pranks in
general.
The occult aspect was touched upon in the play as well, albeit more subtly and in much
less detail; the performative aspect of magic, while still present, is therefore much subdued.
As we mentioned before during the discussion of the occult, this loss of dimension is due to
56
the chapbook’s medium being different from a play’s, where performance and performativity
are more aligned with each other. The chapbook does have the advantage of its more dramatic
descriptive imagery in capturing its audience but, while appealing, it falls short in other areas.
2.2.2.
LONDON EDITION
2.2.2.1. Structure and style
The London chapbook is largely similar to the Edinburgh edition in structure with some
subtle differences. It consists of twenty-nine chapters. Here too, each chapter is preceded by a
brief summary of what comes to pass therein. Compared to the previous chapbook, the
London edition is even more condensed in layout, not only being longer page-wise but also in
words per page due to its small margins and font size, as stated previously. Despite being
more condensed, it also appears more readable due to its consistency in font size. It moreover
features a header on each page and divides chapters by a small line; small differences which
serve to make the chapbook look better overall.
Improving its readability further over the Edinburgh edition, this edition has better
typography altogether, as it includes quotation marks for direct speech: “Mephostophiles
answered, ‘This is nothing: I will please thee better, when thou hast given me thy handwriting.’ At which words the doctor put forth his hand, saying, ‘Behold! thou hast my
promise.’”231 The London edition, in other words, proves to be a chapbook of considerably
higher quality.
While not as extreme, this chapbook also suffers from the same long-winded sentences tied
together with an array of commas and semicolons we saw earlier. The first sentence of this
chapbook will be included here, not only to show the similar sentence structure, but also to
show the subtle differences in Faustus’ introduction as a sort of prelude to the comparison
between the two chapbooks later:
231
The wonderful life, p. 16.
57
John Faustus was born in the town of Rhodes, in the province of Weimar in Germany;
his father, being a poor husbandman, was unable without much difficulty to bring him
up; but having an uncle at Wittenburg, a rich man, and without issue, he took young
Faustus from his father, and made him his heir, by which kindness his father was no
more troubled with him; for he remained with his uncle at Wittenburg, where he was
kept at the University in the same city to study divinity; but Faustus being of an evil
mind, and otherwise wickedly addicted, not only neglected his studies, but betook
himself to other exercises, for which his uncle often rebuked him.232
There are other examples of sentences such as these, but the majority of the London edition’s
story is written in an arguably better style. With better typography, structure and writing style
in general, the London chapbook unequivocally should be deemed of higher quality than the
Edinburgh chapbook. Whether this increase in structural quality translates itself to the content
as well will be discussed in the next section.
2.2.2.2. Content comparison
Chap. I.
“Of the Doctor’s Parentage and Birth.”233
Following the example of the play, the story starts out with a summary of Faustus’ youth and
rise to becoming a doctor of divinity; once again born to a poor father, he moves to
Wittenburg to stay with his uncle. 234 A reference is made to the biblical Eli in comparison to
the uncle, as both rebuke their ‘children’ for sinning against the Lord; this biblical reference
should already be indicative of the superior quality of this chapbook compared to the
Edinburgh edition. 235 The biblical references continue with Cain, Reuben and Absalom,
examples of wicked children to virtuous parents, as Faustus turns to necromancy and
232
The wonderful life, p. 7.
Ibid., p. 7.
234
Ibid., p. 7.
235
Ibid., p. 7.
233
58
conjuration.236 As he discovers companions who favor the black arts “and who were masters
of the Chaldean, Persian, Hebrew, Arabian, and Greek tongues, the use of figures, characters,
conjurations, and incantations” he turns away from his title of “doctor of divinity” to that of a
more worldly man, similar to the play, and gains the titles of astrologian and mathematician.237
It moreover quotes scripture directly by saying “No man can serve two masters” (Matthew
6:24) in regards to the devil and God; “Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God” (Luke 4:12) is
quoted regarding the same complication.238 A final foreboding statement closes the chapter,
suggesting Faustus’ downfall by saying that “therefore at the day of judgement there is no
hope of his redemption.”239
Chap. II.
“Of the manner in which Dr. Faustus began to practice his devilish art; of his conjuration of
the devil; his making him to appear, and meet him on the following morning at his own
house.”240
Chapter two introduces an interesting new concept to the chapbook which we did not see in
the Edinburgh edition, as shown here: “It has before been related, that all Faustus’s delight lay
in studying the art of necromancy and conjuration.”241 The chapbook reminds the reader of
what just happened, allowing for the sense of a more coherent story; the chapters in the
Edinburgh edition gave a more ‘stand-alone’ impression.
Faustus, hungry for knowledge, moves to the Spisser’s-wood to conjure Mephostophiles;
the description is very similar to that of the previous chapbook:
The invocation was heard, and presently the devil began so terrible a rumour in the
wood, that it seemed as if heaven and earth were coming together […]; the devil next
236
The wonderful life, p. 7-8.
Ibid., p. 8.
238
Ibid., p. 8.
239
Ibid., p. 9.
240
Ibid., p. 9.
241
Ibid., p. 9.
237
59
began to roar, as if the whole wood had been full of lions, and suddenly after the devil
stood without the circle, and ran round it as if a thousand waggons had been running
together on paved stones: after this, it thundered horribly at the four corners of the
wood, with such lightning, that the whole world as he thought was on fire.242
With striking similarity, the two chapbooks’ source material was either the same, possibly The
English Faust Book as mentioned in the introduction, or one was inspired by the other. After
quoting “St. Paul to the Ephesians” with “[t]he prince of the world is upon earth, and under
heaven” and subsequently moving back to the event by stating “[b]ut to return to the
conjuration, in which we left him at the fiery globe,” this London chapbook continues to
exude a certain quality lacking in the Edinburgh edition.
243
Three more interesting
peculiarities feature in this chapter. One, Faustus conjures Mephostophiles in the name of
Belzebub, who was not mentioned in the Edinburgh edition; two, Mephostophiles is initially
described as a “fiery man” and a “pleasant sprite” but ultimately appears before Faustus as a
grey friar, in which we see the influence of Marlowe’s play once more with the difference that
Mephostophiles did this of his own accord here, not at Faustus’ request; three,
Mephostophiles has to be conjured twice before he agrees to Faustus’ demands, suggesting
Mephostophiles once again has more independence in the London edition.244
Chap. III.
“The conference of Dr. Faustus with his spirit Mephostophiles, on the morning following, at
his own house.”245
London’s Faustus makes the same demands as Edinburgh’s did and Mephostophiles response
is almost identical to what we have read before: “That he had no such power of himself, until
he had first given his prince (who was the ruler over him) to understand his request, and to
242
The wonderful life, p. 9.
Ibid., p. 10.
244
Ibid., p. 10.
245
Ibid., p. 11.
243
60
know if he could obtain so much of his lord.”246 Despite Mephostophiles’ independence to
appear as he pleases and deny someone’s request, he still needs Lucifer’s permission to grant
one. As he waits for Mephostophiles to return, he ponders over the same question of how to
receive everything he wishes without losing his soul, but resolving himself “to subscribe to
whatever conditions the spirit and his lord should propose.”247
Chap. IV.
“The second time of the spirit appearing to Faustus at his house.”248
During the second encounter with Mephostophiles in his house, Faustus gets confirmation
from Mephostophiles that Lucifer agrees to the contract and as such asks him to specify his
demands once again.249 Other than the complete obedience of Mephostophiles to attend him
and bring him whatever he pleases, Faustus furthermore asks to “be a spirit in shape and
quality” and desires the power of invisibility.250 Mephostophiles, in a more ‘official’ manner
than the Edinburgh edition, makes his own list of counter-demands, much like an actual
binding legal document:
1. That Dr. Faustus should give himself to his lord Lucifer, body and soul.
2. For the full confirmation of the same, that he should execute to him a writing of his
own blood.
3. That he would be an enemy to all Christian people.
4. That he would deny the Christian creed.
5. That he would not change his opinion, should any man go about to dissuade or
withdraw him from it.251
246
The wonderful life, p. 11.
Ibid., p. 11-12.
248
Ibid., p. 12.
249
Ibid., p. 12.
250
Ibid., p. 12.
251
Ibid., p. 12.
247
61
In other words, Mephostophiles lists a direct reason for each conflict we are familiar with
from the play and the previously discussed chapbook, such as his outrage at Faustus’
interaction with the old man who tries to make him repent. At the further promise of
everything Faustus could possibly desire as long as he adheres to the articles and conditions,
“Dr. Faustus’s mind was so enflamed, that he forgot his soul […] and now he thought the
Devil was not so black as he was painted; nor was hell so hot as people were accustomed to
say.”252
Chap. V.
“The third discourse between Dr. Faustus and Mephostophiles, about concluding their
agreement.”253
As Faustus and Mephostophiles come to the agreement and Faustus prepares to write the
contract with his blood, we get another interesting insight into the chapbook’s intended
audience with the exclamation “a dreadful case, Christian reader!”254 At the risk of ascribing
too much meaning to such an utterance, especially considering Christianity’s pervasive
presence throughout Europe at the time, the exclamation is telling in light of the chapbook’s
repeated biblical references; it could be an indication that the chapbook was intended for a
merchant known for more religiously inspired texts. As Faustus then stabs himself, the same
Latin words “O homo, fuge!” or ‘O man, fly!’ appear as they do in the play, warning him of
his impending doom.255
Chap. VI.
“Dr. Faustus sets his blood in a saucer, on warm ashes, and writes as follows:”256
Arriving at last at the actual contract, it is arguably the most official sounding version of it
yet: “I, John Faustus, doctor, do openly acknowledge with my own hand, to the greater force
252
The wonderful life, p. 13.
Ibid., p. 13.
254
Ibid., p. 13.
255
Ibid., p. 13.
256
Ibid., p. 14.
253
62
and strengthening of this letter, that since I began to study and investigate the course and
nature of the elements, I have not found, through the gift that is given me from above, any
learning and wisdom that can bring me to the extent of my desires.”257 Lucifer is once again
limited to the east as “the hellish Prince of Orient” and includes Mephostophiles as partreceiver of his body and soul; all the articles and conditions stipulated in the previous chapters
are repeated here. 258 Note the lengthy preamble and discussion of the precise terms of the
contract before the actual signing thereof, stretched over several chapters.
Chap. VII.
“Mephostophiles comes for his writing; in what manner he appeared, the sights he showed
him, and how he caused him to keep a copy of his own agreement.”259
As Mephostophiles comes for the writing the display of animals is ‘repeated’; included are a
sack of gold and a sack of silver and “all manner of instruments of music” in order to please
Faustus and further convince him to hand over the pact, as “This is nothing: I will please thee
better, when thou hast given me thy hand-writing.”260 Faustus does so and, encouraged by
Mephostophiles, makes a copy for himself.261
Chap. VIII.
“Of the manner in which Faustus proceeded in his life.”262
This chapter portrays an almost idyllic scene as we find Faustus in his house, along with his
student Wagner, another character we know from the play.263 With the help of Mephostophiles
who remains invisible, has the form of a friar and carries a little bell in his hand, Faustus lives
a life of luxury; the best wine and provisions he steals from the cellars of the Duke of Bavaria,
the Duke of Saxony and the Bishop of Saltsburg, all the meat he desired was brought to him
257
The wonderful life, p. 14.
Ibid., p. 14.
259
Ibid., p. 15.
260
Ibid., p. 15-16.
261
Ibid., p. 16.
262
Ibid., p. 16.
263
Ibid., p. 16.
258
63
as well, fowl would fly willingly into his house and both him and Wagner were dressed “in
sumptuous apparel, which Mephostophiles stole from the mercers at Nuremburg, Aspurg,
Frankfort, and Leipzig.” 264 The chapbook reconfirms its superior writing in showing
geographical and economical knowledge.
Chap. IX.
“Dr. Faustus feels an inclination to marry.”265
Another example of the sensationalizing of the story, as Faustus persistently asks
Mephostophiles a wife, despite marriage being a holy institution, Mephostophiles shows the
true face of the devil: “Scarcely were these words uttered, when such a whirlwind rushed into
the place, that Faustus thought the whole house would have come down; all the doors of the
house flew off their hinges […]. At last he called to his spirit Mephostophiles to help […].
Upon this an ugly devil appeared to him, so dreadful and monstrous to behold, that Faustus
durst not look on him.”266 Mephostophiles threatens Faustus into changing his mind and then
promises him any woman he wants for as long as he wants her, as long as he does not marry
her; Faustus, pleased, apologizes and accepts.267
Chap. X.
“Questions proposed by Dr. Faustus to his spirit Mephostophiles.”268
Faustus receives a book of enchantments similar to the one in the play and asks
Mephostophiles what he can do; Mephostophiles responds by saying he can get him anything
he wants, as fast as he wants it, because he is a flying spirit.269 With nothing else happening in
this chapter and the display of Mephostophiles’ powers before, this chapter seems almost
entirely pointless in terms of story development.
264
The wonderful life, p. 16-17.
Ibid., p. 17.
266
Ibid., p. 17-18.
267
Ibid., p. 18.
268
Ibid., p. 18.
269
Ibid., p. 18.
265
64
Chap. XI.
“Dr. Faustus dreams that he had seen hell.”270
Faustus dreams of hell; not understanding its nature he calls upon Mephostophiles to explain
hell to him, but he has little else to tell him other than that Lucifer created hell, it is a
“confused thing” and “in short, Faustus, we know no more than that hell hath neither bottom
nor end.”271
Chap. XII.
“Dr. Faustus desires of his Spirit to know the secrets and pains of hell.”272
This entire chapter seems to be built around scaring the reader of what happens should he go
to hell: not an uncommon practice in Christian texts. Faustus, for fear of what happens when
his time has come to an end, asks how punishments work in hell.273 Mephostophiles’ response
encompasses two entire pages, the highlights of which will be given here:
[H]ell is bloodthirsty, and never satisfied: hell is a valley into which guilty souls fall;
for, when the soul is out of man’s body […] it falls into the deepest pit or valley, which
has no bottom, and whence ascends a perpetual and unquenchable fire. Therefore is hell
called everlasting pain, in which is no hope of mercy; […]. Hell has also a place in it
called Chasma, out of which issues all manner of thunder and lightnings, with such
shriekings and wailings, that oftentimes the very devils themselves are appalled and
terrified. […] Yea, yea, Faustus, thou sayest I shall, I must – nay, I will tell thee the
secrets of our kingdom, for thou buyest thy knowledge dearly […]; there shalt thou
endure horrible torments, howling, crying, burning, freezing, melting, swimming in a
labyrinth of miseries, scalding, […] thou mayest say with Cain, my sins are greater than
can be forgiven; and then go hang thyself with Judas […] and learn, Faustus, that the
270
The wonderful life, p. 19.
Ibid., p. 19.
272
Ibid., p. 19.
273
Ibid., p. 19.
271
65
damned have neither the end nor the time appointed, in which they may hope to be
released.274
Considering the previous iterations of displaying the devils’ and hell’s terrible features, as
well as the addressing of a Christian reader, this chapbook overall seems to have a more
sanctimonious undertone. The chapter goes so far as to not even allow Faustus a response,
making it exceedingly clear what should be focused on: the fact that a horrifying fate awaits
the damned.
Chap. XIII.
“Dr. Faustus turns astronomer.”275
This short chapter focuses on Faustus’ newly gained soothsaying abilities, as he now can
predict any weather change or major event, such as famines, plagues and wars; as such he
“obtained equal praise in Kalendar and Almanack making.”276
One might notice that some chapters are described in much less depth than the others; the
length of each chapter and this chapbook in general are both factors to consider. To reiterate,
however, while this analysis attempts to be as complete as possible, it will focus its attention
on those sections providing insight into the chapbook medium on one hand and the
sensational aspect (as a ‘replacement’ for the theatrical or ‘performance’ dimension) on the
other hand.
Chap. XIV.
“Dr. Faustus asks his spirit a question in astronomy.”277
Faustus is not yet pleased with this knowledge, and asks Mephostophiles to further his
understanding in all matters astronomy; Mephostophiles, more than willing to honor his
request, promises him a great many powers: “[T]hou shalt learn to make thunder, lightning,
274
The wonderful life, p. 19-21.
Ibid., p. 21.
276
Ibid., p. 21-22.
277
Ibid., p. 22.
275
66
hail, snow, and rain; the clouds to rend the earth, and craggy rocks to shake and split in
sunder; and the seas to swell and roar, till they over-run their boundaries.”278 Whereas the
Edinburgh’s Faustus seemed to limit himself to parlor tricks and let Mephostophiles give the
impressive displays, this Faustus is growing into an all-powerful magician showing a true
hunger for knowledge and power and arguably does this in the most convincing manner yet.
Chap. XV.
“Faustus falls into despair; having put an improper question to his spirit, a variance ensues;
whereupon a phalanx of devils appear, threatening him sharply.”279
Despite previous breaches of his contract, Faustus asks Mephostophiles another question on
God, who storms off angrily and leaves Faustus weeping by himself. 280 Suddenly Lucifer
appears before him and, in order to convince Faustus yet again of turning his mind away from
all things holy, orders a contingent of devils to appear in their natural form.281 The named
devils are Belial, Belzebub, Ashtaroth, Cannagosta, Anobis, Dithican and Brachus; they
appear before him as a hellish bear, bull, worm, cat-donkey hybrid, dog-hog hybrid, bird and
hedgehog respectively.282 The choice of names is interesting; Belial, Belzebub and Ashtaroth
are traditional names associated with the devil, but some of the others seem to be drawn from
peculiar sources. 283 Anobis is easily ascribed to Anubis, the Egyptian jackal-god, but
Cannagosta, Dithican and Brachus seem to be entirely original; Bucchianeri offers some
suggestions on the names in other versions where they show up, such as the association with
the Greek god ‘Bacchus’, but offers no explanation as to the reason for its association.284 One
association might be that, in Christian eyes, he is the god of gluttony and as such personifies
one of the deadly sins.
278
The wonderful life, p. 22.
Ibid., p. 23.
280
Ibid., p. 23.
281
Ibid., p. 24.
282
Ibid., p. 24-25.
283
E.g. King James Bible (2001), 1 Sam. 2.12; Luke 11.15.
284
Bucchianeri (2008), p. 212.
279
67
As the seven named devils and a horde of other devils appear, all in various animalistic
shapes, another common association with the devil is drawn upon as they all suddenly carry
pitchforks and point them at Faustus. 285 Faustus pleads Lucifer to send them away, who
promptly does so; Lucifer then calls upon Mephostophiles to appear, who arrives as a dragon
“spitting fire round about the house” until he transforms back into his commonly taken friarshape.286 Lucifer asks Faustus what he wants after seeing this display of devil and requests to
learn how to transform himself as they have done; he receives a book, transforms himself into
various animals and is pleased at the result.287
Chap. XVI.
“Dr. Faustus is carried round the world in eight days; after which he wrote a letter to his
friend at Leipzig of the same.”288
Whereas in the play Wagner describes Faustus’ trip around the world, Faustus does it himself
in a letter to a friend in the chapbook, as the summary suggests. The manner of travel remains
the same, namely a chariot pulled by dragons, although the description thereof is in more
detail: a common ‘theme’ of this particular chapbook.289
Chap. XVII.
“Dr. Faustus has a sight of Paradise.”290
Faustus in his travels around the world eventually spots Paradise; he is curious but, finally
learning from his previous mistakes, “durst not commune with his spirit thereof.” 291 It is
described as an impressive garden around which “four mighty waters” spring and thought by
himself to ask the spirit what waters they were.292 Mephostophiles’ reply is among the most
striking dialogue in the chapbook as he “gently replied” that it was Paradise, “the garden that
285
The wonderful life, p. 25.
Ibid., p. 25.
287
Ibid., p. 25-26.
288
Ibid., p. 26.
289
Ibid., p. 26.
290
Ibid., p. 27.
291
Ibid., p. 28.
292
Ibid., p. 28.
286
68
God himself hath planted with all manner of pleasure”; note the subtle sadistic pleasure
Mephostophiles draws from explaining Paradise to Faustus, as implied by the ‘gentle’ way in
which he describes it.293 He continues his explanation: “[…] although thou thinkest thyself to
be at no great distance, thou hast yet farther to travel before you reach its confines than thou
hast ever been. The water that thou seest divided into four parts is the water that issues out of
the well in the middle of Paradise. The first is called Ganges, or Pison, the second Gihon, the
third Tigris, and the fourth Euphrates.” 294 We return to more direct sources as we see the
description of Eden’s river splitting into four being drawn from Genesis.295 Finally, having
further described the archangel Michael guarding the garden with his flaming sword,
Mephostophiles concludes: “Neither will thou, nor I, nor any one after us, be permitted to
visit that spot, or come any nearer than we are.”296
Chap. XVIII.
“Dr. Faustus eats a load of hay.”297
Other than the addition of the town “Zwickow” or Zwickau in Germany as a locative, this
chapter is almost entirely the same as it appears in the Edinburgh Edition, and as such bears
little more explanation.298
Chap. XIX.
“Faustus feels an inclination to marry.”299
This chapter’s summary seems to be made in error, as there is no mention whatsoever of
Faustus wanting to marry once more. The chapter instead describes a party being held on an
Ash Wednesday, and does describe Faustus playing his guests “some merry feats”. 300 As he
entertains his guests with music, dancing stone pots, a dancing ape, he plays a transforming
293
The wonderful life, p. 28.
Ibid., p. 28.
295
King James Bible (2001), Gen. 2.10-14.
296
The wonderful life, p. 28.
297
Ibid., p. 28.
298
Ibid., p. 28.
299
Ibid., p. 29.
300
Ibid., p. 29.
294
69
prank by making it appear that they had no head and later replaced it with a donkey’s head; in
typical fashion the story ends with everyone returning back to normal.301
Chap. XX.
“Dr. Faustus writes a second contract with his own blood, and gives it to the Devil.”302
Faustus writes a second contract and describes seventeen years having past, confirms that he
has been “an utter enemy to God” and that he is still giving his body and soul to Lucifer. 303
The mention of the seventeen years is an interesting detail, as throughout the chapbook there
are indeed more specific indications of time than either the play or the Edinburgh chapbook,
strengthening the sense of Faustus’ impending doom; other direct examples include, but are
not limited to, chapter XXIII and XXIV.
Chap. XXI.
“Dr. Faustus makes a Marriage between two Lovers.”304
Along with the chapter on hay, this chapter seems near-identical to the Edinburgh edition’s
version. There is little difference other than the addition of the gentleman’s initials “N.N.”
which could stand for ‘No Name’.305 One notable inclusion is that of a dance where the man
places the ring in the lady’s hand as well as a mention of Faustus actually being rewarded
with gifts rather than just gratitude.306
Chap. XXII.
“Dr. Faustus induces Mephostophiles to bring him seven of the fairest women he could find in
all the countries in which he had travelled in the last twenty years.”307
Faustus, realizing he does not have much time left, makes use of Mephostophiles’ previous
offer of giving him any woman he desires as long as he does not marry her; to make most of
301
The wonderful life, p. 30.
Ibid., p. 30.
303
Ibid., p. 30.
304
Ibid., p. 31.
305
Ibid., p. 31.
306
Ibid., p. 31-32.
307
Ibid., p. 32.
302
70
his time and to fuel his “swinish and epicurean life” he requests seven, “lay with them all”
and continued to live with them until the end of his days.308
Chap. XXIII.
“Dr. Faustus finds a mass of money, when he had consumed twenty-two years of his
compact.”309
Mephostophiles points Faustus to a type of treasure hunt; in an old chapel’s ruins, Faustus
stumbles upon a huge serpent guarding the treasure, which the devil charms and sends
away.310 The obvious biblical reference to the snake in the Garden of Eden aside, Faustus does
not find fruit from the tree of life but rather the opposite, as he finds burning coals and “also
saw and heard the groans of many that were tormented.”311 Still he grabs the coals ignoring
the obvious warnings and brings them home where they turn to silver and gold; it is then said
that they were found by his servant after his death and that “the treasure was estimated at one
thousand guilders.” 312 The idea of Wagner as an heir ties into the story surrounding the
historical Faustus, who according to Roscoe was believed to have left his “Memoirs, Letters,
MSS, his house and furniture, to his friend and servant, Wagner.”313 The legends go far as
Roscoe quotes the ‘historical’ Faustus himself saying:
I have also particularly to intreat, that you will reveal nothing concerning my
transactions in the art, until long after my death; but that you will then, from my MSS.
assiduously apply yourself, in writing and arranging a full narrative, in which your
demon will assist, and remind you of any circumstances that may happen to have
escaped your memory.314
308
The wonderful life, p. 32.
Ibid., p. 32.
310
Ibid., p. 32.
311
Ibid., p. 32.
312
Ibid., p. 33.
313
Roscoe (1826), p. 263.
314
Ibid., p. 267.
309
71
Other than dubious statements as those above, there is little factual evidence of the doctor’s
real-life exploits in the dark arts and as such we are left wondering about their validity; for the
same reason the subject has been left unmentioned hitherto and will not be discussed further.
Chap. XXIV.
“Dr. Faustus makes the spirit of fair Helen of Greece his own paramour and bedfellow, in the
twenty-third year of his compact.”315
A severe deviation from what we have heard about Helen of Greece before, Faustus asks
Mephostophiles to bring Helen to him, takes her as his concubine and even impregnates her.316
She produces the child, “as Faustus thought”, who Faustus names Justus; Faustus sets to
tutoring the child but when he loses his life, so too do the mother and child vanish
altogether.317 It is another of the many examples where encounters are twisted into a more
dramatic outcome; whereas the play itself featured quite a lot of comic relief and the
Edinburgh chapbook showed Faustus to pull one prank after the other, this chapbook seems to
continually favor a sense of tragedy over comedy.
Chap. XXV.
“Dr. Faustus makes his will, in which he named his servant Wagner to be his heir.”318
We find confirmation here in what we discussed earlier; Faustus, during the last year of his
life, draws up a will for his servant Wagner, who he is very fond of and who knew of all his
evil exploits.319 As with the contract, the will is presented as sounding like an actual will:
“Item, he gave him in ready money sixteen thousand guilders. Item, one farm. Item, a gold
chain, his plate, and other household stuff, the doctor being resolved to pass the rest of his
time in inns and students’ company in drinking, and eating, and in jollity.”320
315
The wonderful life, p. 33.
Ibid., p. 33.
317
Ibid., p. 33.
318
Ibid., p. 33.
319
Ibid., p. 33.
320
Ibid., p. 34.
316
72
Chap. XXVI.
“Dr. Faustus, having but one month of his appointed time to come, falls to mourning and
sorrowing for his infernal exercises.”321
Time continues to pass “as sand does in the hourglass” the chapter tells us and Faustus finds
himself falling into crippling depression at the prospect of losing his life soon; slowly losing
his mind, he starts talking to himself and quickly loses weight.322
Chap. XXVII.
“Dr. Faustus bewails to think upon hell, and the miserable pains therein provided for him.”323
Faustus’ ramblings, the penultimate climax of this chapbook, contain many of the same
imagery and reasoning we see in the play, showing the direct influence again:
Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus
O no end is limited to damnèd souls! Why
London Edition
Thou condemned wretch! happy wouldst
wert thou not a creature wanting soul? Or
thou be wert thou an unreasonable animal,
why is this immortal that thou hast? […] This
that thou mightiest die without a soul! Then
soul should fly from me, and I be changed
wouldest thou not feel any more doubts; but
Unto some brutish beast: All beasts are
now the devil will take thee away both body
happy, for when they die, Their souls are
and soul, and set thee in an unspeakable
soon dissolved in elements; But mine must
place of darkness; […] I, poor abandoned
live still to be plagued in hell.324
wretch, must suffer all manner of pains;
[…].325
Faustus explains that were he an animal, his soul would not have to suffer eternally; because
he is a man, however, his soul is ‘immortal’. The chapter continues with striking comparisons
and metaphors, some unique to the chapbook; like a tree whose branches burn greater but its
trunk burns longer, “even so the more the man is rooted in sin, the greater is his
321
The wonderful life, p. 34.
Ibid., p. 34.
323
Ibid., p. 34.
324
Marlowe (2006), p. 1055.
325
The wonderful life, p. 34-35.
322
73
punishment.”326 The image of flames is especially pervasive as is commonly associated with
hell; similar to the play he wishes he could call upon God to grant him repentance but realizes
he has gone too far and should blame himself.327
Chap. XXVIII.
“An account of the miserable and lamentable end of Dr. Faustus, by which all Christians may
take an example and warning.”328
Despite what the title suggests, Faustus does not come to his end just yet; it does, however,
reiterate the idea that this chapbook is aimed at Christians and serves as, indeed, a warning to
not be swayed by the devil’s allure. Mephostophiles comes to him at the end of his twentyfour years and orders him to prepare as he would come get him some time later; the chapbook
turns almost uncomfortably Christian and eliminates any doubt of this not being
predominantly Christian-oriented, as the devil also states that both Turks and Jews suffer the
same fate as he does, so he should not feel too bad about his fate. 329 Faustus throws the party
for his colleagues and students at an inn in a neighboring village and claims he has something
to tell them, “many wonderful matters” in fact; when they slept, they go into another room
where they await Faustus’ speech.330
Chap. XXIX.
“The oration of Dr. Faustus to his guests.”331
The climactic and longest chapter of the chapbook, Faustus addresses his guests and explains
the life he has led and the conjurations he has performed:
To the end I might the better bring my purpose to pass, by having the devil’s aid and
furtherance, which I never have wanted in my actions, I promised him at the end and
326
The wonderful life, p. 35.
Ibid., p. 35.
328
Ibid., p. 35.
329
Ibid., p. 36.
330
Ibid., p. 36.
331
Ibid., p. 36.
327
74
accomplishment of twenty-four years, the possession of both my body and soul, to do
therewith at his pleasure; on this dismal day, these twenty-four years are fully expired;
the night is beginning; my hour-glass is at an end, and I awefully expect the direful
finishing of my compact; […] twice confirmed it by writings with my proper hand and
blood.332
The speech turns from confessional to preaching as he first asks them to forgive him if he ever
wronged them in any way and then suggests that his life should serve as a warning to always
keep God in their minds to protect themselves against “the temptations of the devil, and all his
false deceits.”333 Finally, he asks his friends to bury his body if they find it, for he dies “both a
good and a bad Christian; though I know the devil will have my body, and that would I
willingly give him, so that he would leave my soul in peace.”334
His guests raise the same objections in that they wish he brought it up earlier, for they still
might have been able to help him tear him “out of the bondage and chains of Satan” but now
realize that it is too late; Faustus then explains that he did not dare for when an old man came
to him trying to do the same as they offered, Mephostophiles came to him at night and warned
him to remember his contract.335 Still the students try to get Faustus to pray, even repeat a
prayer to him but Faustus says that, like Cain, “his sins were greater than God was able to
forgive” and because he signed the contract with his blood, it holds too much power.336
Rather than the scene moving to Faustus, we instead experience what happens next from
the focal point of the guests rather than Faustus; this is different from the play and while it
was suggested in the Edinburgh edition, it is much more focused on here making for a chilling
impression. As midnight passes, a storm blows against the house; the students realize what is
332
The wonderful life, p. 36-37.
Ibid., p. 37.
334
Ibid., p. 38.
335
Ibid., p. 38.
336
Ibid., p. 39.
333
75
happening and dare not leave their room.337 Because their room is close to Faustus’, they hear
it happening; again the sounds of snakes and adders is heard, Faustus is heard crying for
mercy, “but it was with a half-stifled voice, and very hollow; shortly after they heard him no
more.”338
The following day, the students walk into his room and are greeted by an equally gruesome
sight as we read in the Edinburgh edition:
[T]hey found the hall sprinkled with blood, and his brains cleaving to the wall, for the
devil had beaten him from one wall against another; in one corner lay his eyes, in
another his teeth, a fearful and pitiful sight to behold. […] [The students] sought for his
body every where, till they come into the yard, where they saw his body lying on the
horse-dung, dreadfully torn, and most frightfully mangled, for his head and joints where
dashed to pieces.339
Making good on their promise, they take his body and bury it in the village; returning to
Faustus’ house, they find Wagner and “this history of Dr. Faustus in manuscript as before
declared; all except his end, which was after, by the students, annexed to it.”340 Mention is
made once more of Helen and Justus Faustus, his son, disappearing on the day of his death;
some claim they still see Faustus look out of the window of his house at night. 341 The
chapbook ends with a final warning to its Christian readers, “to be careful of their vocation
[…]; to the end we should not invite the devil as a guest […]; but to the end we may remain
with Christ in all endless joy. Amen.”342
337
The wonderful life, p. 39.
Ibid., p. 39.
339
Ibid., p. 39-40.
340
Ibid., p. 40.
341
Ibid., p. 40.
342
Ibid., p. 40.
338
76
2.2.2.3. Final Analysis
Whereas the Edinburgh edition was shown to be a folkloric narrative, choosing popular story
tropes over more learned references in an effort to be more accessible to a larger public, this
chapbook shows an approach similar to the play but with a stronger focus on the Christian
aspect, suggesting that its target audience are mainly Christians themselves. As a result of this
shift in focus the chapbook was more ‘cerebral’ in general, featuring numerous biblical
references as we pointed out. The language repeatedly showed traces of a style reminiscent of
a priest’s sermon and, especially with the last chapter ending on “Amen”, it gives the sense
that this chapbook could feature as a parable during a mass.
As a chapbook, it allows for more impressive descriptions compared to a play and the
London edition did not disappoint. The Edinburgh edition gave the sense that it was ‘dumbed
down’ for the public, whereas this edition showed an arguably even more exhilarating
narrative. The difference here is that its gruesome and compelling segments were, considering
the material, aimed at ‘scaring’ the public into being better Christians; the Edinburgh edition
made mentions of this as well but the mentions to God without all the biblical references
sounded more like a necessary addition if one chose to release a work with content regarding
the devil, rather than a narrative built entirely around the subject of Christianity.
This chapbook too seems largely similar to the play; the same events happen but they seem
to be drawn out over several chapters with a great amount of detail and with more focus on
Mephostophiles as a terrible fear-inducing character. Indeed, other than the few chapters
containing some comic relief, most of the interactions between Faustus and Mephostophiles
were built even more around portraying the devil as a terrible and fearful figure; this, again, is
related to the fact the chapbook was predominantly Christian in nature and ‘intent’; rather
than ‘putting the fear of God into someone’, the chapbook puts the fear of turning away from
God into its readers. For the same reason Faustus’ ambition and pride are more exaggeratedly
77
present compared to the play. His dabbling with unorthodox forces are explored further as he
turns to astronomy and astrology and whenever he sees Mephostophiles perform magic, he
immediately requests to gain the knowledge to do the same. Throughout his life, as he grows
into a more powerful magician, the reader is constantly reminded of his downfall, and when it
then ‘comes to pass’, everything falls apart: Helen disappears, as well as the child she bore
from him and Faustus himself is literally torn to shreds. The message, again, is clear: observe,
reader, what becomes of a sinner.
78
CONCLUSION
Throughout this discourse, we compared the Doctor Faustus play by Marlowe with two
chapbooks presenting different versions of the Faust story. Preceding this comparison, we
analyzed the rise of theatre texts as well as chapbooks to ground the comparison in a scholarly
debate regarding canon literature. Considering the fact that due to its popularity and
pervasiveness in a culture chapbooks played a more incremental role in forming a canon than
previously thought, we established that theatre texts should not be overvalued and chapbooks
deserve to be paid closer attention to than they have been.
Due to the subject matter of the play, a section on occult was included as well, giving an
introduction to some ideas on the matter, as well as forming a focal point around which to
compare the play and the chapbooks. The performance and performativity discussion proved
an excellent stepping stone from which to instigate the comparison as performance is one of
the key aspects distinguishing a play from a chapbook. Henry Cornelius Agrippa, the
renowned Renaissance black magician, served as another subject around which to introduce
the occult; how a learned audience might react to performing black magic was touched upon
as well. The final section of the first chapter offered an introduction to the story of Doctor
Faustus as told by Marlowe.
The second chapter discussed the chapbooks themselves, employing the previously gained
knowledge on the medium to analyze the individual chapbooks’ qualities and characteristics.
Both chapbooks’ structure and style were largely similar, although the London edition
displayed a more qualitative presentation. The same difference could arguably be seen
content-wise: the Edinburgh edition continually cut into various intertextual elements in favor
of making the chapbook more accessible with a more folkloric narrative while the London
edition did not limit itself as such, but did focus its references on biblical ones.
79
The performative aspect discussed under the ‘occult’ section did feature in the chapbook to
a certain degree, namely in the dynamics surrounding Mephostophiles’ conjuring but was
otherwise largely absent. Instead, as was a pervasive element throughout our comparison,
attention was given to the sensational aspect of the chapbook; where the play would have to
impress with its performance, the chapbook had to capture its audience with its descriptions.
The excerpts from the chapbooks showed that it succeeded in this surprisingly well: more so
for the London edition with its strong biblical undertones but respectably enough for the
Edinburgh edition. Both described gruesome death scenes and, indeed, sensational
conjurations of Mephostophiles himself. The numerous low comedy scenes in the Edinburgh
edition unfortunately somewhat undermined its overall effect.
To conclude, the differences between both chapbooks and the play were ascribed to the
fact that the chapbooks favored a more sensational outlook to attract more readers, a
characteristic especially prevalent in the Edinburgh edition. The differences between both
chapbooks themselves were explained in that due to the Christian nature of the London
edition, it featured a lot more biblical elements and repeatedly showed signs of being written
for a Christian audience, even addressing the reader as such; in other words, while still
sensational, it did so under the guise of warning its audience for the dangers of meddling with
the devil. Although similar at certain points, the vast differences between the two show how
rich a chapbook can be; hopefully this dissertation will aid in spurring researchers to give the
medium the attention it is due.
80
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