sit meditating On that celestial harmony I go to. She is asleep: good wench, let's sit down quiet, For fear we wake her: softly, gentle Patience. Spirits of peace, where are ye? are ye all gone, And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye? Madam, we are here. It is not you I call for: Saw ye none enter since I slept? None, madam. No? Saw you not, even now, a blessed troop Invite me to a banquet; whose bright faces Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun? They promised me eternal happiness; And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel I am not worthy yet to wear: I shall, assuredly. I am most joyful, madam, such good dreams Possess your fancy. Bid the music leave, They are harsh and heavy to me. Do you note How much her grace is alter'd on the sudden? How long her face is drawn? how pale she looks, And of an earthy cold? Mark her eyes! She is going, wench: pray, pray. Heaven comfort her! An't like your grace,-- You are a saucy fellow: Deserve we no more reverence? You are to blame, Knowing she will not lose her wonted greatness, To use so rude behavior; go to, kneel. I humbly do entreat your highness' pardon; My haste made me unmannerly. There is staying A gentleman, sent from the king, to see you. Admit him entrance, Griffith: but this fellow Let me ne'er see again. If my sight fail not, You should be lord ambassador from the emperor, My royal nephew, and your name Capucius. Madam, the same; your servant. O, my lord, The times and titles now are alter'd strangely With me since first you knew me. But, I pray you, What is your pleasure with me? Noble lady, First mine own service to your grace; the next, The king's request that I would visit you; Who grieves much for your weakness, and by me Sends you his princely commendations, And heartily entreats you take good comfort. O my good lord, that comfort comes too late; 'Tis like a pardon after execution: That gentle physic, given in time, had cured me; But now I am past an comforts here, but prayers. How does his highness? Madam, in good health. So may he ever do! and ever flourish, When I shall dwell with worms, and my poor name Banish'd the kingdom! Patience, is that letter, I caused you write, yet sent away? No, madam. Sir, I most humbly