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With walls of flint, and deep-entrenched lakes, There saw we learned Maro's golden tomb, And, as I guess, will first arrive at Rome, And take some part of holy Peter's feast, FAUSTUS. Having now, my good Mephistophilis, From Paris next,[115] coasting the realm of France, Drawn by the strength of yoky dragons' necks. Pass'd with delight the stately town of Trier,[114] The streets straight forth, and pav'd with finest brick, [Exit.] We saw the river Maine fall into Rhine, In one of which a sumptuous temple stands,[117] Not to be won by any conquering prince; Environ'd round with airy mountain-tops, Whose buildings fair and gorgeous to the eye, That to this day is highly solemniz'd. Whose banks are set with groves of fruitful vines; Did mount himself to scale Olympus' top, To see the Pope and manner of his court, Being seated in a chariot burning bright, He now is gone to prove cosmography, Enter FAUSTUS and MEPHISTOPHILIS.[113] Then up to Naples, rich Campania, The way he cut,[116] an English mile in length, Thorough a rock of stone, in one night's space; Quarter the town in four equivalents: From thence to Venice, Padua, and the rest,