endere, from the

which

hgreate

more

quire

speare ?-any s of futut M
things, bonnie! The wise melues i
nay, often. He ut ali tehohet n

Decker, full of bell on
fied to teach red bul
tounding courses Benet al Raka
any saved them a fost wit
all of it. But Desene dine

I can remember y wl
dictions in the e chamber

And Hoppe too, and Helwain toc,
We luck but you, we lack but you;
Come away make up the count.

11 4 will but 'noint and then I mount.

A spirit like a cat descents ...] Thor's one comes down to fetch his dues.

A loss, a coll, a sip of blood;

And why thon stay st so long. I muse.

Nine the air's so sweet and good?

*.. x) and thon come? what news, what news?

All go will to our delight.
When come or else refuse.

25. Now I'm furnished for the flight.

kad hack the eat rings a brave treble in her own

No, not the noise of water's breach,

Or cannon's throat our height can reach.

[Voice above.] No ring of bells, &c.

Fire. Well, mother, I thank your kindness: you must be gambolling i̇' th' air, and leave me to walk here, like a fool and a mortal. -MIDDLETON.

THE CHRISTIAN LADY AND THE ANGEL.

An ANGEL, in the guise of a Page, attends on DOROTHEA.

Dor. My book and taper.

Ang.

Here, most holy mistress.

Dor. Thy voice sends forth such music, that I never

Was ravish'd with a more celestial sound.

Were every servant in the world like thee,

So full of goodness, angels would come down
To dwell with us: thy name is Angelo,
And like that name thou art. Get thee to rest;
Thy youth with too much watching is opprest.

Ang. No, my dear lady; I could weary stars,
And force the wakeful moon to lose her eyes,
By my late watching, but to wait on you.
When at your prayers you kneel before the altar,
Methinks I'm singing with some quire in heaven,
So blest I hold me in your company;

Therefore, my most lov'd mistress, do not bid
Your boy, so serviceable, to get hence;

For then you break his heart.

Dor.

Be nigh me still then.

In golden letters down I'll set that day

Which gave thee to me.

Little did I hope

To meet such worlds of comfort in thyself,
This little, pretty body, when I, coming
Forth of the temple, heard my beggar-boy,

My sweet-faced, godly beggar-boy, crave an alms,
Which with glad hand I gave, with lucky hand!—

And when I took thee home, my most chaste bosom
Methought was fill'd with no hot wanton fire,
But with a holy flame, mounting since higher,
On wings of cherubims, than it did before.
Ang. Proud am I, that my lady's modest eye
So likes so poor a servant.

I have offer'd

Dor.
Handfuls of gold but to behold thy parents.
I would leave kingdoms, were I queen of some,
To dwell with thy good father: for, the son
Bewitching me so deeply with his presence,
He that begot him must do it ten times more.
I pray thee, my sweet boy, show me thy parents;
Be not asham'd.

Know who my mother was; but by yon palace,
Fill'd with bright heavenly courts, I dare assure you,
And pawn these eyes upon it, and this hand,
My father is in heaven; and, pretty mistress,
your illustrious hour-glass spend his sand
No worse than yet it does, upon my life,
You and I both shall meet my father there,
And he shall bid you welcome!

If

Dor.

O blessed day!

We all long to be there, but lose the way.

[Exeunt.

DOROTHEA is executed; and the ANGEL visits THEOPHILUS, the Judge

that condemned her.

Theoph. (alone).

This Christian slut was well,

A pretty one; but let such horror follow

The next I feed with torments, that when Rome
Shall hear it, her foundation at the sound
May feel an earthquake. How now? (Music.)

Ang.

Are you amazed, sir?

So great a Roman spirit, and doth it tremble?

Theoph. How cam'st thou in? to whom thy business?
Ang. To you.

I had a mistress, late sent hence by you