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 My gracious Lord, you doe forget your selfe, They are but shadowes, not substantiall.

Emp. O pardon me, my thoughts are so ravished With sight of this renowned Emperour, That in mine armes I would have compast him. But Faustus, since I may not speake to them, To satisfie my longing thoughts at full, Let me this tell thee: I have heard it said, That this faire Lady while she liv'd on earth, Had on her necke a little wart, or mole; How may I prove that saying to be true?

Faust. Your Majesty may boldly goe and see.

Emp. Faustus, I see it plaine, And in this sight thou better pleasest me, Than if I gain'd another Monarchie.

Faust. Away, be gone. See see my gracious Lord, what strange Beast is yon, That thrusts his head out at window.

Emp. O wondrous sight! see Duke of Saxony, Two spreading hornes most strangely fassened Upon the head of young Benvolio.

Sax. What is he asleepe or dead?

Faust. He sleepes my lord, but dreames not of his hornes.

Emp. This sport is excellent: wee'l call and wake him. What ho, Benvolio. Ben.