Was wont to mount the waves, and dash them off
In ineffectual foam, now seems to crack,
And let in each assailing tide to sink me.
I must not yield to this dull lethargy.
Good Fabian, hie thee to Saint Nicholas';
Bid holy Austin straight repair to me.
[Exit Fabian.
His sanctity, and reverend character,
His pious eloquence, made engines for me,