MEPHIST. Nay, Faustus, stay: I know you'd fain see the Pope,
And take some part of holy Peter's feast,
Where thou shalt see a troop of bald-pate friars,
Whose summum bonum is in belly-cheer.
FAUSTUS. Well, I'm content to compass then some sport,
And by their folly make us merriment.
Then charm me, that I
May be invisible, to do what I please,
Unseen of any whilst I stay in Rome.
[Mephistophilis charms him.]
MEPHIST. So, Faustus; now
Do what thou wilt, thou shalt not be discern'd.
Sound a Sonnet. Enter the POPE and the CARDINAL OF
LORRAIN to the banquet, with FRIARS attending.
POPE. My Lord of Lorrain, will't please you draw near?
FAUSTUS. Fall to, and the devil choke you, an you spare!
POPE. How now! who's that which spake?--Friars, look about.
FIRST FRIAR. Here's nobody, if it like your Holiness.
POPE. My lord, here is a dainty dish was sent me from the Bishop
of Milan.
FAUSTUS. I thank you, sir.
[Snatches the dish.]
POPE. How now! who's that which snatched the meat from me? will
no man look?--My lord, this dish was sent me from the Cardinal
of Florence.
FAUSTUS. You say true; I'll ha't.
[Snatches the dish.]
POPE. What, again!--My lord, I'll drink to your grace.
Pages:
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51