Dor. My love, I'll try. [She draws the chair nearer to the audience.
I thought you never would have walked again; They told me you were gone to heaven; Have you been there?
Hip. I know not where I was.
Dor. I will not leave you, till you promise me, You will not die again.
Hip. Indeed, I will not.
Dor. You must not go to heaven, unless we go Together; for I have heard my father say, That we must strive to be each other's guide, The way to it will else be difficult, Especially to those who are so young; But I much wonder what it is to die.
Hip. Sure 'tis to dream, a kind of breathless sleep, When once the soul's gone out.
Dor. What is the soul?
Hip. A small blue thing, that runs about within us.
Dor. Then I have seen it in a frosty morning, Run smoaking from my mouth.