Enter Hildebrand bearing the dead body of Margaret.
’Tis the mad woman.
Hild. Come help me to lay her here. She was my daughter.
Bish. Is his Holiness mad, that he uttereth thus,
Such scandal ’gainst the Church’s dignity?
Hild. Nay, rather found his reason for an hour,
Like other men through earth’s humanities.
Mine arrogance did dream I was above
Men’s humble sorrows. See my soul rebuked.
She bore it Peter till the first clod fell