Christopher Marlowe Biography - Poet, Playwright (c.

1564–1593)
Playwright, poet. Christopher Marlowe was a poet and playwright at the forefront of the 16th-century dramatic
renaissance. His works influenced William Shakespeare and generations of writers to follow.
Synopsis
Born in Canterbury, England, in 1564. While Christopher Marlowe's literary career lasted less than six years, and his
life only 29 years, his achievements, most notably the play The Tragicall History of Doctor Faustus, ensured his
lasting legacy.
Early Years
Christopher Marlowe was born in Canterbury around February 26, 1564 (this was the day on which he was
baptized). He went to King's School and was awarded a scholarship that enabled him to study at Corpus Christi
College, Cambridge, from late 1580 until 1587.
Marlowe earned his bachelor of arts degree in 1584, but in 1587 the university hesitated in granting him his master's
degree. Its doubts (perhaps arising from his frequent absences, or speculation that he had converted to Roman
Catholicism and would soon attend college elsewhere) were set to rest, or at least dismissed, when the Privy
Council sent a letter declaring that he was now working "on matters touching the benefit of his country," and he was
awarded his master's degree on schedule.
Marlowe as a Secret Agent?
The nature of Marlowe's service to England was not specified by the council, but the letter sent to Cambridge has
provoked abundant speculation, notably the theory that Marlowe had become a secret agent working for Sir Francis
Walsingham's intelligence service. No direct evidence supports this theory, but the council's letter clearly suggests
that Marlowe was serving the government in some secret capacity.
Surviving Cambridge records from the period show that Marlowe had several lengthy absences from the university,
much longer than allowed by the school's regulations. And extant dining room accounts indicate that he spent
lavishly on food and drink while there, greater amounts than he could have afforded on his known scholarship
income. Both of these could point to a secondary source of income, such as secret government work.
But with scant hard evidence and rampant speculation, the mystery surrounding Marlowe's service to the queen is
likely to remain active. Spy or not, after attaining his master's degree, Marlowe moved to London and took up writing
full-time.
Early Writing Career
After 1587, Christopher Marlowe was in London, writing for the theater and probably also engaging himself
occasionally in government service. What is thought to be his first play, Dido, Queen of Carthage, was not published
until 1594, but it is generally thought to have been written while he was still a student at Cambridge. According to
records, the play was performed by the Children of the Chapel, a company of boy actors, between 1587 and 1593.
Marlowe's second play was the two-part Tamburlaine the Great (c. 1587; published 1590). This was Marlowe's first
play to be performed on the regular stage in London and is among the first English plays in blank verse. It is
considered the beginning of the mature phase of the Elizabethan theater and was the last of Marlowe's plays to be
published before his untimely death.
There is disagreement among Marlowe scholars regarding the order in which the plays subsequent to Tamburlaine
were written.
Some contend that Doctor Faustus quickly followed Tamburlaine, and that Marlowe then turned to writing Edward
the Second, The Massacre at Paris, and finally The Jew of Malta. According to the Marlowe Society's chronology,
the order was thus: The Jew of Malta, Doctor Faustus, Edward the Second and The Massacre at Paris, with Doctor
Faustus being performed first (1604) and The Jew of Malta last (1633).
What is not disputed is that he wrote only these four plays after Tamburlaine, from c. 1589 to 1592, and that they
cemented his legacy and proved vastly influential.
The Plays

The Jew of Malta

The Jew of Malta (fully The Famous Tragedy of the Rich Jew of Malta), with a prologue delivered by a character
representing Machiavelli, depicts the Jew Barabas, the richest man on all the island of Malta. His wealth is seized,
however, and he fights the government to regain it until his death at the hands of Maltese soldiers.
The play swirls with religious conflict, intrigue and revenge, and is considered to have been a major influence on
Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice. The title character, Barabas, is seen as the main inspiration for
Shakespeare's Shylock character in Merchant. The play is also considered the first (successful) black comedy, or
tragicomedy.
Barabas is a complex character who has provoked mixed reactions in audiences, and there has been extensive
debate about the play's portrayal of Jews (as with Shakespeare's Merchant). Filled with unseemly characters, the
play also ridicules oversexed Christian monks and nuns, and portrays a pair of greedy friars vying for Barabas'
wealth. The Jew of Malta in this way is a fine example of what Marlowe's final four works are in part known for:
controversial themes.

Edward the Second

The historical Edward the Second (fully The Troublesome Reign and Lamentable Death of Edward the Second, King
of England, with the Tragical Fall of Proud Mortimer) is a play about the deposition of England's King Edward II by
his barons and the queen, all of whom resent the undue influence the king's men have over his policies.
Edward the Second is a tragedy featuring a weak and flawed monarch, and it paved the way for Shakespeare's
more mature histories, such as Richard II, Henry IV and Henry V.
It is the only Marlowe plays whose text can be reliably said to represent the author's manuscript, as all of Marlowe's
other plays were heavily edited or simply transcribed from performances, and the original texts were lost to the ages.
The Massacre at Paris
The Massacre at Paris is a short and lurid work, the only extant text of which was likely a reconstruction from
memory, or "reported text," of the original performance. Because of its origin, the play is approximately half the
length of Edward the Second, The Jew of Malta and each part of Tamburlaine, and comprises mostly bloody action
with little depth of characterization or quality verse. For these reasons, the play has been the most neglected of
Marlowe's oeuvre.
Massacre portrays the events of the Saint Bartholomew's Day Massacre of 1572, in which French royalty and
Catholic nobles instigated the murder and execution of thousands of protestant Huguenots. In London, agitators
seized on its theme to advocate the murders of refugees, an event that the play eerily warns the queen of in its last
scene. Interestingly, the warning comes from a character referred to as "English Agent," a character who has been
thought to be Marlowe himself, representing his work with the queen's secret service.

Doctor Faustus
Marlowe's most famous play is The Tragicall History of Doctor Faustus, but, as is the case with most of his plays, it
has survived only in a corrupt form, and when Marlowe actually wrote it has been a topic of debate.
Based on the German Faustbuch, Doctor Faustus is acknowledged as the first dramatized version of the Faust
legend, in which a man sells his soul to the devil in exchange for knowledge and power. While versions of story
began appearing as early as the 4th century, Marlowe deviates significantly by having his hero unable to repent and
have his contract annulled at the end of the play. He is warned to do so throughout by yet another Marlowe variation
of the retelling--a Good Angel--but Faustus ignores the angel's advice continually.
In the end, Faustus finally seems to repent for his deeds, but it is either too late or just simply irrelevant, as
Mephistopheles collects his soul, and it is clear that Faustus exits to hell with him.
Arrest and Death
The constant rumors of Christopher Marlowe's atheism finally caught up with him on Sunday May 20, 1593, and he
was arrested for just that "crime." Atheism, or heresy, was a serious offense, for which the penalty was burning at
the stake. Despite the gravity of the charge, however, he was not jailed or tortured but was released on the condition
that he report daily to an officer of the court.
On May 30, however, Marlowe was killed by Ingram Frizer. Frizer was with Nicholas Skeres and Robert Poley, and
all three men were tied to one or other of the Walsinghams--either Sir Francis Walsingham (the man who evidently
recruited Marlowe himself into secret service on behalf of the queen) or a relative also in the spy business.
Allegedly, after spending the day together with Marlowe in a lodging house, a fight broke out between Marlowe and
Frizer over the bill, and Marlowe was stabbed in the forehead and killed.
Conspiracy theories have abounded since, with Marlowe's atheism and alleged spy activities at the heart of the
murder plots, but the real reason for Marlowe's death is still debated.
What is not debated is Marlowe's literary importance, as he is Shakespeare's most important predecessor and is
second only to Shakespeare himself in the realm of Elizabethan tragic drama.
DOCTOR FAUSTUS INTRODUCTION
. Doctor Faustus is the story of a great scholar who decides a little magical mojo will cure his ennui. He has to sign
his soul over to the devil in order to get that mojo workin'.
The legend of Faustus was already well-known in Europe by the time Christopher Marlowe turned it into a play in
1594. It had been making the rounds as a folktale in Germany since the early 1500s, and was translated into English
and published in England in the 1590s as a chapbook (that's the Renaissance version of a pulp paperback) entitled
"The Historie of the Damnable Life, and Deserved Death, of Doctor Iohn Faustus." So Marlowe had all kinds of
sources to draw from when it came to bringing the devil to life.
And boy did he ever bring him to life. We know Doctor Faustus was immediately popular with audiences because it
was actually published in 1604. That's something that only happened if people were really clamoring for a printed
version of their favorite play. Apparently Doctor Faustus struck a chord or two in the hearts and minds of its
renaissance audience.
That might have something to do with its uniqueness. Doctor Faustusstood out from the crowd by combining things
we associate with medieval drama (like allegory) to explore what we now think of as modern questions: What form
should knowledge take? What is the nature of true power? Should we believe in fate or free will?
At the time that Marlowe was writing, a Protestant church reformer named John Calvin had developed a theory
about human salvation called Predestination. This theory said that each human being was fated from the beginning
of his or her life to be damned or saved. It raised questions about exactly how much control a person had over his or
her own salvation.
Faustus grapples with this same question at the beginning of the play, and eventually arrives at the shaky
conclusion that he's damned no matter what he does. The way he handles this belief is the subject of the rest of the
play. All along characters like the Good Angel and the Old Man try to convince Faustus that he does have a choice;
they insist that he can repent and turn to God again. Are they right? That's a question only you can answer, because
Marlowe is annoyingly coy.
John Faustus, an elite scholar who has already reached the limits of human knowledge in the traditional academic
disciplines, longs to "ransack the ocean for orient pearl, / And search all corners of the new-found world," to probe
"strange philosophy" and "the secrets of all foreign kings" (1.1.81-82, 84-85).
That all sounds like a grand ol' time, right? Right. There's just one problem. In order to ransack, search, and discover
all that awesome knowledge, Faustus has to make a deal with the devil. And we know those never end well.
Now, a modern person like you might say that knowledge is always a good thing, and that seems to be what
Faustus believes, too. But what Marlowe's Doctor Faustus forces us to consider is that knowledge almost always
comes at a price.
Sure, we don't usually get (spoiler alert) torn limb from limb (like Faustus does) when we learn something we
shouldn't. And we don't get handed a one-way ticket to the underworld like the one the not-so good doctor receives
from his buddy Lucifer. So the price of knowledge in Doctor Faustus might seem exaggeratedly steep.
But the price itself might be beside the point. The point of Doctor Faustusseems to be that knowledge can be so
seductive, so desirable, that we often don't consider the cost—whatever it may be—until it's too late. So really, it's
the question that matters most: how far are you willing to go to know what you want to know?
SUMMARY-Doctor Faustus sits in his study, trying to decide what he should become an expert in. Theology? Nah.
Medicine? Nope. Law? As if. How boring. How pointless.
How about… magic? That sounds downright delightful. So it's time for Faustus to have a chat with renowned
magicians Valdes and Cornelius—they'll know the ins and outs of the magical trade. His new teachers give him the
scoop and it's time for Faustus to get his magical groove on, all on his own.
For his first trick, he calls the devil Mephistopheles (uh, does anyone else think this is the baddest of bad ideas?)
and asks ol' Meph to be his servant. But Mephistopheles serves Lucifer first and foremost, so Faustus makes
Lucifer an offer he can't refuse: he will sell his soul to the devil himself in exchange for twenty-four years of life with
Mephistopheles at his beck and call. Okay, remember what we said about calling Mephistopheles being the baddest
of bad ideas? We were wrong. This idea is way worse.
Especially when Lucifer is all, yeah that sounds awesome. He agrees to Faustus's bargain as long as he signs his
soul away in a document written and signed in his blood, which Faustus promptly produces. We're thinking maybe
he should have pursued that law degree after all…
Meanwhile, similar deals with the devil are going down among the town's peasants. Faustus's servant, Wagner, has
already procured his own "devil familiar" in the form of an apprentice named Robin; now Robin and his friend Dick
try their hand at conjuring, with free booze as their goal. Boys.
Back to the main plot: Faustus is starting to have second thoughts about this whole selling-his-soul-to-Satan
shebang, so he considers repenting. He's even got a Good Angel and a Bad Angel to try and convince him one way
or the other. But the devils that surround Faustus insist that he's already too far gone down the road to damnation,
so they distract him with talk of astrology and a show put on by the Seven Deadly Sins.
Plus they woo him with travel. Mephistopheles takes Faustus on a wild chariot ride through the heavens and around
the globe, finally stopping in Rome, where Pope Adrian is about to pass judgment on a rival German pope named
Bruno. Faustus saves Bruno (he has a soft spot for Germans) and spirits him back to Germany, then torments the
Pope by stealing his dishes and food during a feast. Not cool dude.
Meanwhile, Robin and Dick stole a cup from their local tavern and then called on Mephistopheles to protect them.
Annoyed, he turns them into an ape and a dog (certainly not worth the booze).
Now in Germany, Faustus gets props from the Emperor for saving Bruno. In turn, Faustus impresses the Emperor
with a few magic trucks, including putting horns on the head of a nearby naysayer, Benvolio. Enraged by his
humiliation, Benvolio enlists his friends Martino and Frederick to help him kill Faustus in an ambush. Much to their
dismay, after they chop Faustus's head off, he is very much undead and has his devil cronies drag Benvolio and
crew through the mud. That'll teach 'em.
Back in Jolly Old England, Faustus sells an enchanted horse to a horse dealer. When the man rides his new horse
over the water, it changes into a bale of hay. Whoops. As it turns out, the horse dealer is not the only townsperson
Faustus has wronged.
Robin, Dick, and a dude named Carter are also pretty peeved at the magician, so they meet up in a tavern to plan
their revenge. They demand to see Faustus while he's hanging with the Duke and Duchess of Vanholt, for whom
he's produced a castle in the air and grapes out of season. It's not a good time for Faustus to handle his bitter
buddies, so he charms them into silence before they can call him out for any wrong-doing.
Now nearing the end of his life, Faustus meets an Old Man (an allegorical figure) who counsels him to repent and
turn to God once again. Faustus sends Mephistopheles to torment the Old Man, which is not exactly the nice-guy
way to go.
On Faustus's last day of life, he confesses all his bad deeds to a group of scholars, who promise to pray for the guy
as he meets his end. Faustus's Good and Bad Angels appear and show him a glimpse of heaven and hell. Terrified
of Hell, Faustus longs for time to stop, or for his soul to be mortal so that he will not have to suffer eternally. But the
clock strikes twelve and the devils who have followed him through life enter Faustus's study to claim his soul. Yikes.
The next morning, the scholars find his body torn to pieces (yuck), and they decide to give him a proper burial. After
all, even though he was a major sinner, he was a promising scholar in his day. Finally, the Chorus ends the play by
interpreting Faustus's story as a warning to the wise about the dangers of forbidden fruit. In other words, don't sell
your soul to the devil because, you know, he's going to come collect at some point.
DOCTOR FAUSTUS THEME OF PHILOSOPHICAL VIEWPOINTS: PREDESTINATION
Does man have a choice about whether or not he will reach heaven? Or is the fate of his soul decided from the get-
go, with him powerless to change it? At first, it seems like Doctor Faustus is clearly in the latter camp. Our good-
turned-bad doctor thinks he's damned no matter what he does. But as the play goes on, Faustus wavers, wondering
if he still has time to repent, and if his sin is forgivable. The play never comes down on one or the other side of the
debate, sometimes portraying Faustus's fall as his own choice, at other times letting him off the hook. In the end
though, it just might be a little bit of both. Faustus's fall has been caused by his choice to believe that he's damned.
That causes him to refuse to repent, and refusing to repent is the one sin that's truly unforgiveable.
Faustus has a choice about whether or not he goes to hell, but he doesn't seem to get that it's his responsibility. The
fact that he always passes the buck is what really sends him to hell. Faustus was predestined to hell. He never had
a choice, and that's that.
DOCTOR FAUSTUS THEME OF RELIGION
At the beginning of Doctor Faustus, the not-so-good doctor thinks the study of religion is a plain old waste of time.
But we're betting that by the end of it, he'll be singing a different tune altogether. See, through all his conjuring
exploits and exotic travels, Faustus just can't escape the subject of religion. He finds himself questioning the nature
of hell and salvation, and even winds up smack dab in the middle of the papal court, where he does his fair share of
mocking the Catholic church. Yet while religion follows him, step-by-step on his slow journey to eternal damnation,
we can't help but think that Faustus never really gets just how important religion really is in his life, or the role it will
eventually play in the fate of his soul. Doctor Faustus is clearly pro-Protestant because Marlowe does just about
everything he can to make Pope Adrian appear ridiculous. Faustus makes Pope Adrian look a fool, not Marlowe. So
the play is not pro-Protestant or anti-Catholic. It's just anti-Devil.
DOCTOR FAUSTUS THEME OF SIN
Just as Faustus refuses to take religious issues seriously, he laughs at the parade of the Seven Deadly Sins in Act
2, Scene 3 of Doctor Faustus. But really, buddy, they're no laughing matter, which becomes all the more clear when
the Sins start to tell Dr. F a bit more about themselves. This parade of sins should be a warning to Faustus to repent,
but he has already decided he'd rather serve the devil than God, all so he can grab himself some wealth and power
before his soul hits the road. Sounds like sin to Shmoop.
Doctor Faustus portrays pride as the sin at the root of Faustus's fall. If he hadn't been so full of himself, he never
would have sold his soul to the devil.
A whole boatload of sins, among them pride, covetousness, and despair, all work together to bring about Faustus's
fall.
DOCTOR FAUSTUS THEME OF THE SUPERNATURAL
Faustus hands over his soul for the ability to perform magic. Although he imagines using magic to make himself as
powerful as a god and as wealthy as a king, when it comes right down to it Faustus's magic often amounts to little
more than fancy tricks. He uses it to make the images of dead people appear in order to amuse himself and his
friends, or to humiliate people, including peasants who have done nothing to harm him. And the townsfolk who use
magic do silly things like steal dishes and bogart some booze. In the end, magic in Doctor Faustus, however
incredible, appears to be no more useful than the man who wields it. Magic is might. Faustus wants magical powers
so he can control others—nothing more. Faustus's magic isn't all that awesome in the first place. Parlor tricks don't
change the world.
DOCTOR FAUSTUS THEME OF WISDOM AND KNOWLEDGE
At the beginning of Doctor Faustus, Faustus takes a closer look at the collected wisdom of centuries of scholarship
and has only this to say: codswallop! Instead, he turns to magic not only for the power and wealth it can bring him,
but also because of the forbidden knowledge it promises to reveal to him. In the end, Faustus doesn't care about the
knowledge itself—just what it can do for him, and that kind of thinking is exactly what winds him up in a pact with
Lucifer. So while Faustus may be knowledgeable, the play suggests, he's certainly not wise.
Wisdom and knowledge are not the same thing, and maybe if Faustus had gotten that idea through his thick head,
he wouldn't have sold his soul to Lucifer. Maybe.
Faustus's evaluation of knowledge focuses upon whether or not it can provide him with wealth and power.
DOCTOR FAUSTUS THEME OF CUNNING AND CLEVERNESS
Despite being a skilled scholar, rocking debates with his buds, and having some serious chops in the medicine
world, Faustus really wants to be known as a cunning magician. Yep, a magician. Hey, who are we to judge his
dream? And lo and behold, when he gets that mojo working, he becomes powerful, rich, and famous right quick. Yet
the ability of simple peasants like Robin and Dick to read and practice from Faustus's magic books suggests that
Faustus's skills might not be as rare and special as he likes to think. After his death, Faustus is remembered by the
Scholars notfor his magical powers and clever tricks, but for the very scholarly learning he rejected as unworthy of
him at the beginning of Doctor Faustus. The Holy Roman Emperor's praise of Faustus's rescue of Bruno as a more
important deed than any magic he might do is a reminder of how misplaced Faustus's priorities have become.
Cleverness and cunning are fine, as long as they're in the service of good. Faustus isn't all that clever after all. If
Robin and Dick can conjure, well, then anyone can.
 DOCTOR FAUSTUS THEME OF WEALTH
As Faustus does the whole should-he-or-shouldn't-he-deal-with-the-devil calculation (here's an idea, Faustus: you
shouldn't), the wealth that such a deal can bring him factors considerably into his fuzzy math. He knows that, with
Mephistopheles's help, he can get his grubby hands on the treasures of exotic places like India, Asia, and the
Americas. Plus, he could use his considerable power to cheat peasants out of their money and possessions. Beyond
demonstrating the cravenness of his character, Faustus's desire for wealth and his willingness to sell his soul to the
devil shows us that inDoctor Faustus wealth and salvation don't exactly go hand in hand. Faustus, Valdes, and
Cornelius are all about exploitation and destruction. When they imagine the wealth they'll get with their magic, they
don't do anything nice with it, which shows that ill-gotten wealth is bad news. Faustus's use of magic to deprive
peasants of their money emphasizes the importance of honesty and transparency to functioning capitalist economic
exchange.
DOCTOR FAUSTUS THEME OF POWER
A big motivator for Faustus's handing his soul over to the devil is his that he's jonesing for some power, big time. But
here's the rub: in order to gain that power, Faustus has to give it all away—to Lucifer. Ultimately, the power Faustus
dreams of could never be his. The power to rule not just men but all of creation belongs only to God in the world
of Doctor Faustus. But the not-so-good doctor is not the only one in the play who has such high ambitions. Pope
Adrian, too, uses his power to make all the world "stoop" (3.1.158). And we know that Lucifer fell from heaven
because of his lust for power. So the Pope and Faustus are probably destined to wind up right where Lucifer is—in
hell. Faustus must give away power in order to gain it. Faustus's desire for god-like powers destines him for hell long
before he ever signs a contract with Lucifer. The contract is just a symptom of a larger problem.
Character Analysis
Doctor Faustus
Faustus is super-smart. So smart that he can best any one of his academic colleagues in debate, so smart that he
becomes arrogant, "swoll'n with cunning, of a self-conceit" (Prologue.19). And that's where all the trouble begins.
See, Faustus thinks he knows better than the thousand years'-worth of scholars who have gone before him and
been content to devote their lives to philosophy, medicine, theology, or the law. He thinks those disciplines are
totally useless.
Why? Because he thinks they can't do anything for him, or at least, nothing like what magic can do. And magic can
do a lot. Which is good because in addition to being arrogant, Faustus is also power-hungry. He makes it clear that
he longs to learn magic because "a sound magician is a demigod" (1.1.60). Does that sound eerily familiar? It
should. Lucifer, himself, fell from heaven because in his pride he, too, wanted to be a god.
You'd think Faustus would learn from old Lucy's mistake, huh?
The Loss of Lofty Goals
That said, maybe Faustus could halfway redeem himself if he used his magic to do something worthwhile, like, say,
saving lives or saving souls. But instead, he uses it mainly to idly amuse himself and, most despicably, to play mean
tricks on peasants and courtiers like poor Benvolio.
What Faustus chooses to do with his powers after he sells his soul to gain them is a bit anticlimactic considering that
he had planned to "resolve me of all ambiguities," learn "strange philosophy," and "the secrets of all foreign kings,"
and even to become the king of his land (1.1.78, 84, 85). We don't know about you, but Shmoop really wanted to be
resolved of all ambiguities. That sounds awesome.
But no sooner has Faustus gained his awesome powers than his lofty ambitions fade into something much more,
well, boring. Why he loses those ambitions is a bit of a mystery. It might be an example of the old maxim that
"absolute power corrupts absolutely," except that in this case, absolute power appears to corrupt not just the man
who possesses it, but also the goals that prompted him to get that power in the first place. This whole demi-god
thing is a messy business.
The Guy We Love to Hate
So he's proud, he's arrogant, and he's sometimes more than a little mean-spirited. Why in the world are we reading
about this guy, then? Sure, his pact with the devil seems to have been motivated largely by a desire for wealth and
power. But the text also suggests that something else might be going on. Maybe Faust thought he never had a
chance at heaven to begin with.
Think about it. As Faustus contemplates theology, Mephistopheles guides his reading of the Bible so that he
concludes that "we must sin / And so consequently die"—i.e., go to hell (1.1.43-44). Throughout the play, Faustus
mopes over this question, always concluding (with the help of that Bad Angel on his shoulder), that he's got no shot
at salvation. He's doomed from the get-go, or at least so he's led to believe.
All the Riches in the World
Unfortunately, though, Faustus might not be as smart as he thinks. He never quite manages to think all the way
through the question of whether or not he has a chance at a ticket to heaven. He's always distracted by his devils
bringing some new delight.
In the end, Faustus "didst love the world"—in other words, material things—more than spiritual things (5.2.101). His
pride and desire for power prompt him to sign his soul over to the devil. Once that's done, his inability to let go of all
the awesome stuff his devils bring him prevents him from ever repenting. He is, plainly, weak. For that reason, we
pity Faustus. He comes so close to heaven so many times, even as he misses it by a mile.
FAUSTUS TIMELINE AND SUMMARY
 Faustus decides the study of philosophy, medicine, law, and theology is a waste of time.
  He decides to study magic instead, because magic will bring him all kinds of goodies—power, wealth,
answers.
 Good thing he has some magician buddies (Valdes and Cornelius) to help him learn the tricks of the trade.
 Faustus meets the devil Mephistopheles, and signs over his soul to the devil in exchange for
Mephistopheles's services for twenty-four years.
 Mephistopheles teaches Faustus about the nature of hell and the devil, the stars and planets, and the Seven
Deadly Sins.
 Then Faustus travels on a dragon-drawn chariot among the stars and planets, then around the globe, before
landing in Rome, where he rescues the Saxon pope Bruno from punishment at the hands of the Roman
pope.
 He torments the Roman pope by making himself invisible and stealing his dishes and food.
 Later, at the court of the Holy Roman Emperor, Faustus conjures Alexander the Great, then escapes death
at the hands of a courtier he has humiliated, whom he, in turn, punishes severely. Yep, it's a big ol' mess.
 Back home, Faustus sells an enchanted horse to a horse-dealer who tries to get revenge by tearing off
Faustus's leg. That doesn't go so well.
 He conjures a castle in the air and some grapes for the Duke and Duchess of Vanholt, at whose court he
charms dumb the peasants who accuse him of humiliating them with his magic tricks.
 Faustus conjures Helen of Troy for a group of scholars, then takes her as his lover. Um, selfish much?
 Faustus finally tells his scholar friends that he is damned to hell because he has sold his soul to the devil.
Oh, so that's why you've been acting so weird, buddy. We thought it was the shellfish.
 In his last hours, Faustus longs for his soul to disappear so he can escape eternal torment, but his devils
arrive to tear his body to pieces and carry him to hell.
MEPHISTOPHELES
Partner in Crime
In Act 1, Scene 3, as he contemplates making a deal with the devil, Faustus remarks, "Had I as many souls as there
be stars, / I'd give them all for Mephistopheles" (1.3.100-101). It sure sounds like he really loves the guy.
And you know what? He really does. Mephistopheles is a source of never-ending delight for Faustus. He brings the
guy women and wealth, enabling him to conjure the spirits of Alexander the Great and Helen of Troy, and taking him
on a spur of the moment, round-the-world vacation. Oh, and to top it all off, ol' Mephistopheles takes the doctor on a
trip to the stars, just so he can learn the mysteries of creation. That's some tour guide.
It's no wonder Faustus is so willing to sign over his soul to the devil in exchange for twenty-four years of having
Mephistopheles as his servant. The dude has skills.
Bad Influence
As a spirit, Mephistopheles has some major supernatural powers, which he uses to keep Faustus in line. He
manipulates our main man out of repenting by threatening him whenever he thinks about God or heaven, or calling
on his devil friends to distract Faustus and win him back to the Dark Side. It's almost like some sort of strange form
of reverse psychology. He manages to make Faustus feel guilty for thinking good thoughts about God.
That's a master Baddie if you ask Shmoop. But what else should we expect? Mephistopheles makes his allegiance
to the devil abundantly clear the moment he first appears, telling Faustus, "I am a servant to great Lucifer / And may
not follow thee without his leave. / No more than he commands may we perform" (1.3.38-40).
Mephistopheles serves Lucifer. You don't get any Badder than that.
Cautionary Tale
Yes, Mephistopheles's allegiance is clear. But that doesn't mean that it's all flowers and rainbows. No one ever said
the guy was happy about serving ol' Lucy.
See, the problem is the dude is always in hell. Mephistopheles remarks to Faustus, "Think'st thou that I, that saw the
face of God / And tasted the eternal joys of heaven, / Am not tormented with ten thousand hells / In being deprived
of everlasting bliss?" (1.3.75-78). Mephistopheles clearly knows what he's missing. And knowing what he's missing
sure does make him miserable.
Before the bargain with the devil is struck, he even advises Faustus to turn back, as if to say, don't do it, if you know
what's good for ya. As a fallen angel, Mephistopheles is someone who knows firsthand both the joys of heaven and
the torments of hell, and at least at the beginning of the play, he's clear about which is the better choice.
So even though he spends all his time tempting Faustus towards the Dark Side, Mephistopheles also stands as a
warning to Faustus. While he tries with all his might to win the scholar's soul forever, he also pushes Faustus toward
Good, by showing just how Bad bad can be. As he counters when Faustus doubts the existence of hell: "I am an
instance to prove the contrary, / For I tell thee I am damned and now in hell" (2.1.131-132). Mephistopheles is a
constant reminder of the torments that await Faustus in the afterlife. At the same time, he's the character who works
the hardest to ensure that Faustus will eventually encounter those torments. Hey, what can we say? He's a
complicated guy, with a complicated name.

GOOD AND BAD ANGELS

Have you ever seen those cartoons where a generally a-okay character is tempted to do something really bad?
Suddenly, a little red dude holding a pitchfork appears on one shoulder, and a serene-looking figure with wings and
a halo, clothed all in white, appears on the other.
Well, if you've seen that, then you pretty much know the drill with the Good and Bad Angels. They appear every time
Faustus begins contemplating the state of his mortal soul. The Good Angel's goal is to convince Faustus to abandon
his sins and return to God, while the Bad Angel tries to get the scholar to continue in his pursuit of magic and so
remain loyal to the devil. Choices, choices.
But here's the real scoop: the Good and Bad Angels are actually a literary device called allegory. That means they're
the personification of abstract concepts in a concrete form. Fancy, right? Here, the Good angel represents Faustus's
desire to repent, and the Bad Angel, his desire to keep right on sinning. As they battle back and forth, so Faustus
battles within himself. In short, it just might all be in his head.
See, Faustus remains really divided throughout the whole play. On the one hand, he's pretty sure that he was
damned to hell the minute he even contemplated becoming the devil's servant. This is what the Bad Angel wants
him to believe.
But, on the other hand, isn't there such a thing as repentance, feeling so bad about your sins that God is willing to
forgive you for them? That's what the Good Angel, among other characters, keeps trying to convince Faustus of.
In the end (spoiler alert!), the Bad Angel wins. But if the Bad Angel is really just a personification of part of Faustus's
mind, then doesn't this really mean that one half of Faustus's divided mind has triumphed over the other?
ANALYSIS: SETTING
Medieval Wittenberg, Germany; Papal palace in Rome; Court and kingdom of Carolus, King of Spain and Holy
Roman Emperor
Marlowe's plays were famous in their day for their exotic, far-flung settings, and Doctor Faustus is no exception. Dr.
F does some major globetrotting. He travels to Rome and the court of Carolus in Acts 3 and 4, then he
circumnavigates the globe, and then—get this—he explores the stars. Here's hoping he starts a tour company soon.
But despite all this roaming around, what most of us would consider the most important part of the play—Faustus's
decision to serve Lucifer, and the ensuing battle over his soul—happens in Wittenberg, Germany. So let's head
there…
In the middle ages, Wittenberg was a college town. By the time Marlowe was writing, during the English
Renaissance, it had become known as the center of the Protestant Reformation. That's because it was the stomping
grounds of Martin Luther—the guy who tacked ninety-five theses on the door of a Catholic church, forever marking
the split between Catholics and Protestants.
Because of that, Wittenberg was known not only for scholarship, but also for radical scholarship—the kind that bucks
tradition and conventional thinking. So it seems pretty fitting to us that a guy like Faustus—a scholar who rejects
some of the most traditional areas of study as boring, useless, or ineffectual—would come out of a place like
Wittenberg.
But let's not get ahead of ourselves. A lot of the play, and all of the battle for Faustus's soul, takes place in his study,
of all places. You'll forgive us for being a little underwhelmed. And a Renaissance audience would be
underwhelmed, too.
That's because Renaissance folks would be used to tragedies about grand ol' things like the rise and fall of kings
and princes. So they'd be expecting settings like royal courts or battlefields instead—public spaces where decisions
and actions affecting whole kingdoms were made.
Ah, but that's just it: Doctor Faustus isn't that kind of tragedy. Instead, it's the story of the soul of a single, politically
insignificant individual. He's just one dude. It makes sense, then, that the tale largely unfolds in the private space
that's important to Faustus as the symbol of his profession—his study. The damnation of Faustus's soul isn't going
to shake the world to its core. But it will shake that study, especially when all that limb-ripping gets started.
A study is also (hopefully) a place where deep thinking happens. For that reason, it's the perfect setting for a play
whose characters consider important theological questions about predestination, sin, and salvation.
GENRE - Drama; Tragedy
We probably don't need to work too hard to convince you that Doctor Faustus is a drama. And it may seem pretty
obvious to you that it's a tragedy as well. Talented intellectual signs soul over to the devil and gets carted off to
hell—sounds pretty tragic, right? But, at its time, Doctor Faustus broke a lot of rules about what tragedy was
supposed to be.For one thing, tragedies were supposed to be about great, super powerful people, like kings and
princes. The idea was to write about someone whose destiny affected not just himself, but entire kingdoms.
Faustus just doesn't fit that bill. The Chorus even tells us he's born to parents "base of stock," in other words, to
commoners (11). And despite gaining some fame as a magician, Faustus never uses that magic to do anything
really important. Okay, sure, he rescues an alternative pope, Bruno, from punishment at the hands of the Roman
pope. But the point of that whole episode isn't about the fate of kingdoms or Catholicism; instead, it's really about
how Faustus amuses himself at the expense of others. Way to stay classy.
That's because the point of this particular tragedy is not to focus on the rise and fall of kings and kingdoms; it's to
explore the battle for the soul of a single, relatively unimportant individual and to ask questions about sin and
salvation as they relate to everybody, not just the VIPs. In fact, we'd even go so far as to say that Doctor
Faustus has more in common with modern tragedies like Death of a Salesman or A Streetcar Named Desire than it
does with King Lear or Macbeth