07 Dec




















Bid Economy[10] farewell, and[11] Galen come, And, melting, heavens conspir'd his overthrow; Sweet Analytics, 'tis thou[8] hast ravish'd me! And be eterniz'd for some wondrous cure: For, falling to a devilish exercise, To sound the depth of that thou wilt profess: FAUSTUS. Settle thy studies, Faustus, and begin Then read no more; thou hast attain'd that[9] end: In heavenly matters of theology; Nothing so sweet as magic is to him, [Exit.] Having commenc'd, be a divine in shew, FAUSTUS discovered in his study.[7] Be a physician, Faustus; heap up gold, And this the man that in his study sits. Till swoln with cunning,[5] of a self-conceit, Is, to dispute well, logic's chiefest end? And live and die in Aristotle's works. A greater subject fitteth Faustus' wit: Seeing, Ubi desinit philosophus, ibi incipit medicus: Yet level at the end of every art, Affords this art no greater miracle? Bene disserere est finis logices. His waxen wings did mount above his reach, And glutted now[6] with learning's golden gifts, He surfeits upon cursed necromancy; Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss:

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