The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Dr. Faustus (B Text)

Act: 3 Scene: 2
Pope
Welcome, lord cardinals. Come sit down.
Lord Raymond, take your seat; Friars attend,
And see that all things be in readiness,
As best beseems this solemn festival.
Pope
What needs this question? Did I not tell you,
Tomorrow we would sit i'th'consistory,
And there determine of his punishment?
You brought us word even now, it was decreed,
That Bruno and the cursed Emperor
Were by the holy council both condemned
For loathed Lollords, and base schismatics.
Then wherefore would you have me view that book?
Pope
By Peter, you shall die,
Unless you bring them forth immediately.
Hale them to prison, lade their limbs with gyves.
False prelates, for this hateful treachery,
Cursed be your souls to hellish misery.
Pope
Lord Archbishop of Reams, sit down with us.
Pope
Who's that spoke? Friars, look about.
Lord Raymond, pray fall to; I am beholding
to the Bishop of Milan, for this so rare a present.
Pope
How now! Who snatched the meat from me?
Villains, why speak you not?
My good Lord Archbishop, here's a most dainty dish,
Was sent me from a cardinal in France.
Pope
What Lollards do attend our Holiness
That we receive such great indignity? Fetch me some wine.
Pope
Lord Raymond, I drink unto your grace.
Pope
My wine gone too? Ye Lubbers look about
And find the man that doth this villainy,
Or by our sanctitude you all shall die.
I pray my lords have patience at this
Troublesome banquet.
Pope
It may be so.
Go then command our priests to sing a dirge,
To lay the fury of this same troublesome ghost.
Pope
O, I am slain; help me my lords.
O, come and help to bear my body hence.
Damned be this soul forever for this deed.