MARTINO. What, ho! Benvolio! Enter BENVOLIO above, at a window, in his nightcap, buttoning. BENVOLIO. What a devil ail you two? MARTINO. Speak softly, sir, lest the devil hear you; For Faustus at the court is late arriv'd, And at his heels a 149 thousand Furies wait, To accomplish whatsoe'er the doctor please. BENVOLIO. What of this? MARTINO. Come, leave thy chamber first, and thou shalt see This conjurer perform such rare exploits, Before the Pope and royal Emperor, As never yet was seen in Germany. BENVOLIO. Has not the Pope enough of conjuring yet? He was upon the devil's back late enough:      An if he be so far in love with him, I would he would post with him to Rome again! FREDERICK. Speak, wilt thou come and see this sport? BENVOLIO. Not I. MARTINO. Wilt thou stand in thy window, and see it, then? BENVOLIO. Ay, an I fall not asleep i' the mean time. MARTINO. The Emperor is at hand, who comes to see What wonders by black spells may compass'd be. BENVOLIO. Well, go you attend the Emperor. I am content, for this once, to thrust my head out at a 150 window; for they say, if a man be drunk over night, the devil cannot hurt him in the morning:  if that be true, I have a charm in my head, shall control him as well as the conjurer, I warrant you.           [Exeunt FREDERICK and MARTINO.]            A Sennet. Enter CHARLES the German Emperor, BRUNO, DUKE OF SAXONY, FAUSTUS, MEPHISTOPHILIS, FREDERICK, MARTINO, and Attendants. EMPEROR. Wonder of men, renowm'd 151 magician, Thrice-learned Faustus, welcome to our court. This deed of thine, in setting Bruno free From his and our professed enemy, Shall add more excellence unto thine art Than if by powerful necromantic spells Thou couldst command the world's obedience:      For ever be belov'd of Carolus! And if this Bruno, thou hast late redeem'd, In peace possess the triple diadem, And sit in Peter's chair, despite of chance, Thou shalt be famous through 152 all Italy, And honour'd of the German Emperor. FAUSTUS. These 153 gracious words, most royal Carolus, Shall make poor Faustus, to his utmost power, Both love and serve the German Emperor, And lay his life at holy Bruno's feet:      For proof whereof, if so your grace be pleas'd, The doctor stands prepar'd by power of art To cast his magic charms, that shall pierce through 154 The ebon gates of ever-burning hell, And hale the stubborn Furies from their caves, To compass whatsoe'er your grace commands. BENVOLIO. Blood, he speaks terribly! but, for all that, I do not      

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