
On a visit to Philadelphia to promote his new book, a journalist – with a mixture of exasperation and resignation – recalled a time when he confronted a politician about his blatant hypocrisy. The man scoffed at any concern about his “legacy.” In a moment of transparency, he implied he doesn’t care if he is remembered as dishonest in history books. I’ll be dead by then, he said.
The abandonment of personal integrity for power, money or fame is sometimes called a Faustian bargain, a reference to the Faust of German folklore who literally sells his soul to the devil for worldly gain.
The tale has inspired countless literary works and movies. One of the oldest and most noteworthy is “Doctor Faustus” by Christopher Marlowe, a contemporary of Shakespeare. A tragedy with some broad humor and a horror show ending, the 400-year-old play is a timeless examination of the nature of sin and a still-relevant cautionary tale about morally corrupt alliances.
Some of the most moving lines in the play are spoken by Mephistophilis, a fallen angel who identifies himself as “a servant to great Lucifer.” On meeting him, Faustus asks why he is not in hell. Mephistophilis replies:
“Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it:
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?”
When Faustus asks why Lucifer tempts humans and seeks to own their souls, Mephistophilis gives an answer whose sentiment, in translation, is well-known: “Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris” – roughly, “misery loves company.”
Lucifer makes only brief appearances, such as when Faustus begins to regret his pact with Mephistophilis, who acts as Lucifer’s proxy. After an angel tells Faustus (and will continue to tell him for the rest of his life) that he can be saved if he repents, Lucifer takes it upon himself to make sure Faustus does not repent. He does so with the manipulative logic of a morally corrupt attorney. He emphasizes justice, arguing that it limits God’s mercy. God, Lucifer insists, will recognize and honor the legal claim he has on Faustus. “Christ cannot save thy soul, for he is just,” he says.
So Faustus’ downfall is in allowing himself, out of both fear and greed, to be persuaded by a known liar and manipulator.
Their purely transactional relationship means Faustus will have Mephistophilis as his servant for 24 years, and then he will give his soul to Lucifer. Yet Lucifer is in control and Faustus diminished from the moment their deal is struck.
Faustus is originally motivated by a desire for power and knowledge, but he largely abandons grand ambitions and wastes most of his time in petty activities. He takes revenge on those who cross him and to humiliate unsuspecting victims. And Mephistophilis, the supposed servant, controls Faustus as much as Faustus controls him.
The end of the play depicts Faustus as his 24 years are ending. In his last hours, Faustus, who previously bragged about his “manly fortitude,” has come to understand fear – but not remorse.
He almost calls for God’s help when he sees Christ’s blood streaming in the firmament. Yet, to the end, he remains motivated only by fear and pride, not a spiritual reckoning. Like the crucified criminal who reviled Jesus, Faustus simply wants to be saved, in contrast to the penitent thief who acknowledges his own guilt and recognizes Christ’s goodness. (Luke 23:39-43)
And so the play ends with Faustus’ colleagues hearing “fearful shrieks and cries” and then finding his “mangled limbs.”
In Faustus’ arrogance and degrading subservience, a modern audience may see parallels to business executives that put shareholder profits before public safety. Or media personalities who forsake fairness and even common decency as they seek to enlarge their audience. Or politicians who align themselves with demagogues to further their own careers. Or we may even recognize ourselves at our own worst moments.
In their final conversation, Faustus breaks down in tears as he puts the blame on Mephistophilis for his loss of eternal happiness.
“What, weep’st thou?” Mephistophilis responds mockingly. “Fools that will laugh on earth must weep in hell.”
Carl Peters is former managing editor of the Catholic Star Herald.













