Clar. Take him away; we are weary of him.
Bel. Sister, lets leave the gentlemen alone, And to our chambers. [_Exeunt Bel. and Clar.
Bon. Grimes, put to the doore and leave us.— Whats the matter? [Exit Grimes.
Tho. Freind,
Ere I begin my story I would wish you
Collect yourselfe, awake your sleeping Spiritts,
Invoake your patience, all thats man about you
To ayd your resolution; for I feare
The newes I bring will like a palsie shake
Your soules indifferenst temper.
Bon. Prethee, what is't which on the soddaine can Be thus disastrous? 'tis beyond my thoughts.
Tho. Nay, slight it not: the dismall ravens noate
Or mandrakes screches, to a long-sick man
Is not so ominous as the heareing of it
Will be to you; 'twill like a frost congeale
Your lively heate,—yet it must out, our frendship
Forbids concealment.
Bon. Do not torture me; Ime resolute to heare it.
Tho. Your soe admired Mistress Who parted from you now, Belisea,—
Bon. You have don well before
Your sad relation to repeat that sound;
That holy name whose fervor does excite
A fire within mee sacred as the flame
The vestalls offer: see how it ascends
As if it meant to combat with the sunn
For heats priority! Ime arm'd gainst death,
Could thy words blow it on me.
Tho. Here me, then: Your Mistress—