Hip. Yet still you slept?
Cro. Y'faith I did; and when, methoughts, he was warm
by my side,
Thinking to catch him, I stretcht out both mine armes;
And when I felt him not, I shreekt out,
And wak'd for anger.
Hip. 'Twas a pretty dream.
Cro. I, if it had been a true one.
Enter Albert.
Jul. But stay, What's here cast o'th' shore?
Hip. 'Tis a man;
Shall I shoot him?
Cro. No, no, 'tis a handsome beast;
Would we had more o'th' breed; stand close wenches,
And let's hear if he can speak.
Alb. Do I yet live?
Sure it is ayr I breathe; What place is this?
Sure something more than humane keeps residence here,
For I have past the Stygian gulph,
And touch upon the blessed shore? 'tis so;
This is the Elizian shade; these happy spirits,
That here enjoy all pleasures.
Hip. He makes towards us.