Lord, I beseech thee, may they lie and starve
in some miserable spittle, where they may never see the
face of any true spirit again, but be perpetually haunted
with some church-yard hobgoblin in seculo seculorum.
MUS. Amen, Amen.
[EXEUNT.]
ACT III. SCENE I.
ENTER THORELLO, AND PISO.
PIS. He will expect you, sir, within this half hour.
THO. Why, what's a clock?
PIS. New stricken ten.
THO. Hath he the money ready, can you tell?
PIS. Yes, sir, Baptista brought it yesternight.
THO. Oh, that's well: fetch me my cloak.
[EXIT PISO.]
Stay, let me see; an hour to go and come,
Ay, that will be the least: and then 'twill be
An hour before I can dispatch with him;
Or very near: well, I will say two hours;
Two hours? ha! things never dreamt of yet
May be contrived, ay, and effected too,
In two hours' absence: well, I will not go.
Two hours; no, fleering opportunity,
I will not give your treachery that scope.
Who will not judge him worthy to be robb'd,
That sets his doors wide open to a thief,
And shews the felon where his treasure lies?
Again, what earthy spirit but will attempt
To taste the fruit of beauty's golden tree,
When leaden sleep seals up the dragon's eyes?
Oh, beauty is a project of some power,
Chiefly when opportunity attends her:
She will infuse true motion in a stone,
Put glowing fire in an icy soul,
Stuff peasants' bosoms with proud Caesar's spleen,
Pour rich device into an empty brain:
Bring youth to folly's gate: there train him in,
And after all, extenuate his sin.
Pages:
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126