The following is a series of three different letters written to Doctor Faustus from Christopher Marlowe’s 1592 tragic play, “Doctor Faustus”, from the perspective of his wife. While the play does not explicitly mention if Faustus is married, the letters are written contextually according to the events that transpire in the play. The tone of the trilogy of letters changes from doting to doubtful to despondent according to the events that occur in the play. Characterized by the name Mrs. Faustus, the speaker in the letters is expressing both her love and her broken heart to Doctor Faustus through his decision to choose power and knowledge over his own wife.

June 1st, 1568

Wittenburg, Germany

My Dearest Dr. Faustus,

You have just departed on your most recent journey and I as your wife am so proud and honored to even have your name. You are so incredibly smart, I am in awe of your genius and talent. What other man on earth can say that he has mastered the arts and practices of academia, medicine, philosophy, and medicine? I find myself extremely lucky to be married to a man of such knowledge and esteem. Politicians praise you, kings invite you to their court, and your name is known across all the regions of the world. What woman would not want to be married to such a wonderful man? As well as the fact that you have mastered all these arts already and seek to gain even more knowledge truly amazes me. Your mind itself is a prodigy, so much so that myself and many others might deem you the most intelligent man to ever live. You undeniably have it all, and now as your lawfully wedded wife, I have the privilege of standing beside you proudly as there is nothing as two lovers that we cannot have if we so desire. From the first time I met you to our many conversations about politics, religion, and philosophy to the moment you asked for my hand in marriage, I was intrigued yet also frightened by your wisdom. Your vast level of knowledge for the things both in and out of this world are mysteriously exciting and terrifying all at the same time. There are moments where I truly believe that you can read my thoughts and might condemn me for my less intelligent understanding of the world, but you love me just the same. Your love for learning is most attractive to me, I might even say that it is your constant thirst for knowledge that made me fall in love with you. There is nothing you cannot learn and then master, and there is no obstacle you cannot overcome. In my eyes, you are not only the wisest man to live, but you are also the most powerful man as well. I am so proud to call you my husband, and I simply cannot wait for your return, however long it may be until that day comes. I hope to see you very soon, my love.

Forever and Always Yours,

The Mrs. Faustus, Your Endearing Wife.

Dear Dr. Faustus,

April 30th, 1570

Munich, Germany

I must say that I am simply dumbfounded at this time. I do not hear from you nor receive any letters from you for so many months, as it is nearing on two years since you first embarked on this journey of yours. I cannot comprehend why you cannot personally write to me to tell me you will not come to our new home in my parent’s city as was planned. I believe that this is because you do not care for me anymore. It is beyond difficult for me to conjure any scenario in my mind where I might have done something to make you feel this way. Do you truly feel so discontented with me, your beloved wife, that I no longer satisfy you? I can only imagine that your apprentice and scribe, Mesastophillis, cannot be a positive influence on you and is forcing you to leave me all alone in this home by myself. What such a figure could convince you, the most intelligent man I have ever met, to do such a thing? Your wisdom surpasses that of all others, so I am unsure as to the reason why you would neglect the love of your life and the woman of your dreams. You told me I was perfect, an angel meant only for you, so why have you not come home, dear husband? On the day we wed, you and I promised each other that we would live in harmony together so long as we both shall live. My beloved, you have broken your promise to me. You have left me alone, without even a trace of yourself for me to hold onto. No longer can I stand to wonder if you value riches and knowledge and power more than your loyal wife. I hear of your travels, more elaborate than any before, and I learn from your former colleagues in Wittenberg that you have mastered the arts of dark magic. I even hear that you have sold your soul to the devil in exchange for twenty four years of service from a fallen angel. Please tell me that the tales they spin are not the truth. Assure me that you have not signed your life away to the devil himself, that you have not taken an oath that surpasses our wedding vows. I can only believe what I am told by those whom I trust, because you, the man who I used to trust more than anyone else, will not even give me the decency to answer my plea. If all these things they say are true, then not only have you voluntarily signed your own death sentence, but you have also forced me into a life of loneliness. My dearest, I cannot be your loving wife from beyond the grave. Yet even now I struggle to be the same woman who became your lawfully wedded wife just two years ago. How am I supposed to remain true and loyal to you when you abandon me for a life full of travel and riches that can only end with your eventual death sentence? I am still the strong woman you married those few years ago and I cannot wait many more years just to discover the unknown truth about you. If what all your colleagues have told me is the genuine truth, then there will be drastic measures that I must take. The only thing that I am thankful for in my barrenness and inability to give you sons and/or daughters is that no child of ours will ever experience the loneliness I feel. I miss you greatly and I still love you but I cannot live this way much longer. I cannot bear to think that you have abandoned me, but if this is true, then you give me no choice but to leave you for good, dear husband. If I do not hear from you in more than twelve months, I will be forced to take drastic measures. One year from today, I will no longer call myself your wife. I truly wish that it did not have to come to this, but you give me little choice in the matter. If I had enough evidence to believe that these stories are indeed false, then I would never consider this, but truly you have taken this choice away from me.

Yours, Perhaps Not Forever and Always,

The Disappointed Mrs. Faustus

To my Deceased ex-husband,

October 9th, 1592

Paris, France

So it seems that the stories were true. Many moons ago I wrote to you asking whether or not your dealings with the devil were pure gossip or sincere. As it turns out, the tales told to me were indeed true. It was confirmed to me by the scholars who were with you when you died. According to them, you tried to repent for your wrongful ways in the hours leading up to the end of your sentence. They even mentioned that you called upon ancient Greek gods like Helen of Troy in an attempt to save you. Alas, you had to pay the price for what you did as it was too late. Satan’s mark was etched into your skin and you now belong forever to the devil in his lair. Mesastophilis’ servitude cost you your life, and it cost us our marriage. I kept true to my word, and I was able to discreetly annul our marriage. My family found me a reputable husband in France, and two years after I wrote you last, he and I were married and moved to Paris. I have told no one that I am writing this letter, as no one else knows that I was married to the infamous Doctor Faustus. Your tales spread across all regions, and many people knew of the fantastical and mystical adventures you had during your last twenty-four years of life. It turns out that I was mistaken about my barrenness, and I am now a mother to five children. Yet even as I built my new life, not a day goes by where I do not think of you. I imagine what a life with you would have been like, and I often blame myself for what happened to you. If I had loved you more or if you truly knew how much I loved you then maybe you would not have sold your soul to the devil. Yet, you knew the price you would pay. You chose to live a life of luxury and riches and magic over a life married to me. A price so high, that not only did it kill you but it killed our marriage. I have learned to move on, but I still think of you. You will always be a part of me.

No Longer Your Wife But Your First Love, Forever and Always,

The Former Mrs. Faustus

A Boy and his dog, a classic American tale depicting the famous mantra “a dog is man’s best friend”. Relatable to nearly every American man, but not AJ. He held no sentiment or feelings toward dogs. In fact, he used to be afraid of them as a child, but now a grown man, he felt childish to admit that he was afraid of dogs. His childhood fear turned into a manly apathy for a creature that is supposed to be “his best friend”. Convinced there was no dog that he liked, AJ avoided dogs at all costs. He did not stop to pet and coo the dogwalker’s furry friends on the city streets, he skipped over Facebook videos of cute puppies playing with their owners. No, he would have nothing to do with any dog, ever. That all changed when he met Traci. A mix rescued from a pound, but acted like she was a princess born in a palace. Part Pomeranian, part Corgi, she was the cutest, smallest fluff ball AJ had ever seen. Traci had her own family, she was adopted and pampered like pup royalty for quite some time. A family friend owned her, and the Man and Dog first met while AJ was visiting their home while traveling on business. It did not take him long to realize that Traci was above the reproach of most dogs, she was like a puppy angel compared to any other dog he had previously met. Poised, tame, smelling of lavender shampoo and not of mud or puppy breath, loving, loyal and friendly, she was absolutely perfect. Traci was truly the only dog AJ had ever met that he not only could tolerate, but that he loved. She did not obnoxiously jump all over him, nor did she beg for scraps from the kitchen. If there were a royal standard for a dog’s behavior, Traci was the epitome and definition, setting the bar for this standard very high. AJ found his best (furry) friend. During their short few days spent together while AJ was visiting Traci’s family, the Man and Dog spent all their time possible together. Strolling city streets, dining al fresco on urban restaurant patios, watching Sports Center on the couch together, the pair could not seem happier spending time together. But alas, AJ’s business trip was short in length, and his return flight home that afternoon was quickly approaching after only having a few days time with his new furry best friend. A heartfelt and long goodbye left AJ feeling lonely, sad and empty. His wrist felt naked from not holding her small leash and his hand missed petting her head and giving her belly rubs. As soon as his plane landed, his wife picked him up from the airport, and asked how his trip was. AJ immediately told her all about Traci. He failed to mention any details about his business trip, the main intent and focus of his travel. No, he only spoke of Traci, of their adventures and how much he missed her. Over the following weeks, he asked his friends, Traci’s owners, for pictures and videos of Traci doing her favorite things; wearing her pink princess sweater on car rides, drinking Puppuccinos on afternoon Starbucks runs, and anything else that would remind AJ of his favorite furry friend. However, not long after returning home from his business trip, AJ received a call from the family friend, revealing sadly that Traci had passed away from an uncommon and fatal virus that she contracted at a dog park. Crushed, AJ was near tears, since he never got to say a true and sincere goodbye to the first dog he ever loved. Months passed, and nearly every day AJ would reminisce stories about Traci to his wife. A sorrowful smile appeared on his face every time he would tell a story about Traci, missing her cute smile and her small bark. With his 30th birthday soon approaching, AJ’s wife (who is also known as me, Ella, your story teller), did some research on Traci’s unique mixed breed. After a few google searches and hours of doggy research later, a breeder popped up, who specialized in Pomeranian-Corgi mixes. Setting out on the errand, I went to the breeder to choose a dog to surprise AJ on his birthday. The 8-week old puppies, small and very furry, all looked different. Some with darker fur, others who looked nothing like Traci at all, none of them looked quite like her. Except one, the runt of the litter, a female pup quite smaller than her brothers and sisters, but yet she looked as though she was Traci’s clone. I asked the breeder what her name was, and she replied that she did not name any of the dogs, except that one (since she assumed no one would want the runt due to her smaller size compared to the rest of the litter). The breeder promptly told me that she was still for sale if I was interested, and that her nickname was Maci. From the way she looked to her rhyming nickname to her look-alike Traci, I knew she was the dog for AJ. Signing the paperwork, handing over my credit card and reading the owner’s guide and manual for training and raising a dog, I left with a file folder of documents, eight-hundred dollars less in my bank account, and a small crate with a barking but adorable fluffy puppy. It was the eve of AJ’s birthday, his last day of being twenty-nine. I quickly drove to my best friend’s house (who is known in our social circle as a dog-whisperer), to watch our new puppy Maci for the night so I could surprise him the morning of his birthday. I received a phone call while driving the last few miles to my friend’s house, my iPhone ringing with a call from none other than AJ. Asking standard questions like “how was your day at work honey?”, “Ella did you call the restaurant to make the reservation for my birthday dinner tomorrow night?” and “do you need me to go to the store for anything for dinner before I come home?”, I quickly replied and hung up as soon as I possibly could, terrified he would hear Maci’s puppy barks and that the surprise would be ruined. After dropping her off with her new bed and toys for her “sleepover”, I pet her head and rubbed her belly before leaving, and rushed home to not make AJ suspicious of any kind of birthday surprise. The night passed slowly and I wondered how Maci was doing, being extremely careful to not mention anything about my errand that day. I set my alarm early to pick Maci up, anxious to introduce the pup to AJ, anticipating the friendship to form between Man and Dog. I quickly drive to pick Maci up, and rush back home to greet AJ on his birthday with balloons, a breakfast-for-two in bed and the biggest surprise of all, a puppy just like Traci (named Maci), that AJ could call his own. I slowly open the master bedroom door and wake AJ, gently placing Maci on the bedspread by his side. Slowly opening his eyes, AJ realized there was a dog who looked just like Traci, sitting right before him that he could call his own. Overjoyed, AJ turns to hug me and immediately bonds with the smiling and excited puppy. In his grief of missing Traci, he finally had a dog that looked just like her be his new furry friend. Later that night after work on the drive his birthday celebration with all our friends, I received a call from the breeder. She called to tell me about how Maci, our brand new puppy, was actually related to Traci. Shocked and in disbelief, I shared the news with AJ, in which he immediately smiles, realizing that his first furry friend will always be with him in the form of his new puppy called Maci. A boy and his dog, or rather a Man and his small fluffball, Maci was born to be AJ’s own furry friend.