And then return to Helen for a kiss.
—Oh! thou art fairer than the evening air,
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars:
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter,
When he appear’d to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa’s azure arms;
And none but thou shalt be my paramour.’
The ending of the play is terrible, and his last exclamations betray an anguish of mind and vehemence of passion, not to be contemplated without shuddering.
—‘Oh, Faustus!