Christopher Marlowe (baptised 26 February 1564; died 30 May 1593) was an English dramatist, poet and translator of the Elizabethan era. As the foremost Elizabethan tragedian, next to William Shakespeare, he is known for his blank verse, his overreaching protagonists, and his mysterious death.
A warrant was issued for Marlowe's arrest on 18 May 1593. No reason for it was given, though it was thought to be connected to allegations of blasphemy—a manuscript believed to have been written by Marlowe was said to contain "vile heretical conceipts". On 20 May he was brought to the court to attend upon the Privy Council for questioning. There is no record of their having met that... more »
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Christopher Marlowe Poems
The Passionate Shepherd to his Love
Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
Who Ever Loved That Loved Not at First S...
It lies not in our power to love or hate, For will in us is overruled by fate. When two are stripped, long ere the course begin, We wish that one should love, the other win;
Hero and Leander
It lies not in our power to love or hate, For will in us is over-rul'd by fate. hen two are stript long ere the course begin, We wish that one should lose, the other win;
The face that launch'd a thousand ships
Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss. Her lips suck forth my soul: see where it flies!
Hero and Leander: The First Sestiad
On Hellespont, guilty of true-love's blood, In view and opposite two cities stood, Sea-borderers, disjoined by Neptune's might; The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight.
Lament for Zenocrate
Black is the beauty of the brightest day, The golden belle of heaven's eternal fire, That danced with glory on the silver waves, Now wants the fuel that inflamed his beams:
I WALK'D along a stream, for pureness rare, Brighter than sun-shine; for it did acquaint The dullest sight with all the glorious prey
In Obitum Honoratissimi Viri, Rogeri Man...
NOCTIVAGI terror, ganeonis triste flagellum, Et Jovis Alcides, rigido vulturque latroni, Urna subtegitur. Scelerum, gaudete, nepotes!
Accurs'd Be He That First Invented War
Accurs'd be he that first invented war! They knew not, ah, they knew not, simple men, How those were hit by pelting cannon-shot Stand staggering like a quivering aspen-leaf
Our Conquering Swords
Our conquering swords shall marshall us the way We use to march upon the slaughter'd foe, Trampling their bowels with our horses' hoofs, Brave horses bred on the white Tartarian hills.
Hero And Leander: The Second Sestiad
By this, sad Hero, with love unacquainted, Viewing Leander's face, fell down and fainted. He kissed her and breathed life into her lips, Wherewith as one displeased away she trips.
Dialogue In Verse
_Jack._ Seest thou not yon farmer's son? He hath stoln my love from me, alas! What shall I do? I am undone;
I Must Have Wanton Poets
I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits, Musicians, that with touching of a string May draw the pliant king which way I please: Music and poetry is his delight;
I love thee not for sacred chastity. Who loves for that? nor for thy sprightly wit: I love thee not for thy sweet modesty, Which makes thee in perfection's throne to sit.
Quotationsmore quotations »
''Accurst be he that first invented war.''Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593), British dramatist, poet. Mycetes, King of Persia, in Tamburlaine the Great, pt. 1, act 2, sc. 4 (1590).
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The Passionate Shepherd to his Love
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant poises,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest ...