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MARTINO. What, ho, officers, gentlemen! Hie to the presence to attend the Emperor.-- Good Frederick, see the rooms be voided straight: His majesty is coming to the hall; Go back, and see the state [146] in readiness. FREDERICK. But where is Bruno, our elected Pope, That on a Fury's back came post from Rome? Will not his grace consort the Emperor? MARTINO. O, yes; and with him comes the German conjurer, The learned Faustus, fame of Wittenberg, The wonder of the world for magic art; And he intends to shew great Carolus The race of all his stout progenitors, And bring in presence of his majesty The royal shapes and perfect [147] semblances Of Alexander and his beauteous paramour. FREDERICK. Where is Benvolio? MARTINO. Fast asleep, I warrant you; He took his rouse [148] with stoops of Rhenish wine So kindly yesternight to Bruno's health, That all this day the sluggard keeps his bed. FREDERICK. See, see, his window's ope! we'll call to him. 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,