07 Dec




















That this proud Pope may Faustus' cunning [114] see. Or dash the pride of this [115] solemnity; RAYMOND. Saxon Bruno, stoop, POPE. Cast down our footstool. Or clap huge horns upon the Cardinals' heads; To beat the beads about the friars' pates, the pillars; MONKS and FRIARS, singing their procession; And point like antics at [116] his triple crown; To make his monks and abbots stand like apes, Sound trumpets, then; for thus Saint Peter's heir, Enter the CARDINALS and BISHOPS, some bearing crosiers, some But thus I fall to Peter, not to thee. BRUNO. Proud Lucifer, that state belongs to me; By cunning in thine art to cross the Pope, And crouch before the Papal dignity.-- POPE. To me and Peter shalt thou grovelling lie, Or any villany thou canst devise; then the POPE, RAYMOND king of Hungary, the ARCHBISHOP Saint Peter's chair and state pontifical. Whilst on thy back his Holiness ascends OF RHEIMS, BRUNO led in chains, and ATTENDANTS. And view their triumphs as they pass this way; Then in this show let me an actor be, And I'll perform it, [117] Faustus. Hark! they come: This day shall make thee be admir'd in Rome. MEPHIST. Let it be so, my Faustus. But, first, stay, And then devise what best contents thy mind,

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