Hild. Nay, Peter, they may rail and rail at me,
Strip all my wealth and make them fifty Popes,
They will not shake me.
Pet. Gregory, Gregory, ponder well thine answer,
Remember, if thou art the real Pope,
Thou art not in Rome.
Hild. Wherever I am, Rome is! They may drive
Me into farthest banishment, they but put
God’s holiness from out their precincts. I am Rome!
Marg. Good Father.