Upon the bridge called Ponte Angelo
Erected is a castle passing strong,
Where thou shalt see such store of ordnance
As that the double cannons, forged of brass,
Do match the number of the days contained
Within the compass of one complete year,
Beside the gates and high pyramides
That Julius Caesar brought from Africa. (3.1.38-45)
Cast down our footstool.
Saxon Bruno, stoop.
Whilst on thy back his Holiness ascends
Saint Peter's chair and state pontifical.
Proud Lucifer, that state belongs to me.
But thus I fall to Peter, not to thee.
To me and Peter shalt thou grovelling lie
And crouch before the papal dignity. (3.1.88-95)
Pope Adrian, let me have some right of law;
I was elected by the Emperor.
He grows too proud in his authority
Lifting his lofty head above the clouds
And, like a steeple, overpeers the Church.
But we'll put down his haughty insolence. (3.1.125-126, 132-135)