The Tragicall History
His Majesty is comming to the Hall.
Go backe and see the State in readinesse.
Fre.
But where is Bruno our elected Pope,
That on a furies backe came post from Rome,
Will not his grace consort the Emperour?
Mart.
O yes, and with him comes the Germane Conjuror,
The learned Faustus, fame of Wittenberge,
The wonder of the World for Magicke Art,
And hee intends to shew great Carolus
The race of all his stout Progenitors:
And bring in presence of his Majesty,
The royall shapes and perfect semblances
Of Alexander and his beauteous Paramour.
Fre.
Where is Benvolio?
Mart.
Fast asleepe I warrant you.
He took his rouse with stoopes of Rhennish wine
So kindly yesternight to Bruno's health,
That all this day the sluggard keepes his bed.
Fre.
See, see his window's ope; wee'le call to him.
Mart.
What ho, Benvolio!
Enter Benvolio above at a window, in his
night-cap: buttoning.
Benv.
What a Diveel ayle you two?
Mar.
Speake softly sir, lest the Divell heare you:
For Faustus at the Court is late arriv'd.
And at his heeles ten thousand Furies wait,
To accomplish whatsoever the Doctor please.
Ben.
What of this?
Mar.
Come leave thy chamber first, and thou shalt see
This Conjuror performe such rare exploits,
Before the Pope and royall Emperour,
As never yet was seene in Germany.
Benv.
Has not the Pope enough of Conjuring yet?
He was upon the Divels backe late enough,
And if he be so farre in love with him,
