Therefore I charge thee by the immortall God,
That holds the soules of men within his fist,[1486]
This night thou watch; for ere the morning star 30
Sends out his glorious glister on the north,
The head will speake: then, Miles, upon thy life,
Wake me; for then by magick art Ile worke
To end my seven yeares taske with excellence.
If that a winke[1487] but shut thy watchfull eye, 35
Then farewell Bacons glory and his fame!
Draw closse the courtaines, Miles: now, for thy life,