Thier. Martel, I cannot last long, see the soul,
I see it perfectly of my Ordella,
The heavenly figure of her sweetness there,
Forgive me gods, it comes, Divinest substance,
Kneel, kneel, kneel every one, Saint of thy Sex,
If it be for my cruelty thou comest,
Do ye see her hoe?
Mart. Yes Sir, and you shall know her.
Thier. Down, down again, to be reveng'd for bloud,
Sweet Spirit I am ready, she smiles on me,
O blessed sign of Peace.
Mart. Goe nearer Lady.
Ordel. I c[o]me to make you happy.
Thier. Hear you that, Sir?
She comes to crown my soul: away, get sacrifice
Whilst I with holy Honors.
Mart. She's alive, Sir.
Thier. In everlasting life, I know it friend,
Oh happy, happy soul.
Ordel. Alas, I live Sir,
A mortal woman still.
Thier. Can spirits weep too?