Ant. Come, poor babe:
I have heard, but not believed, the spirits o' the dead
May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother
Appear'd to me last night, for ne'er was dream
So like . To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head [on] one side, [some another;]
I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,
So fill'd and so [becoming:] in pure white robes,
Like very sanctity, she did approach
My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me,