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So--let us have more wine, then!
HEYWOOD.
Spirit enough Springs from thee, Master Marlowe--what need more.
MARLOWE.
Drawer! lift up thy leaden poppy-head!
Up man!--where art? The night seems wondrous hot!
(MARLOWE _throws open a side window that reaches down to the floor, and stands there, looking out._)
HEYWOOD (_to_ MIDDLETON).
The air flows in upon his heated face, And he grows pale with looking at the stars; Thinking the while of many things in heaven.
MIDDLETON.
And some one on the earth--as fair to him-- For, lo you!--is't not she?
(_Pointing towards the open window_.)
HEYWOOD.
The lady, folded In the long mantle, coming down the street?
MIDDLETON.
Let be; we cannot help him.
(HEYWOOD _and_ MIDDLETON _retire apart_--CECILIA _is pa.s.sing by the open window_.)
MARLOWE.
Stay awhile!-- One moment stay!
CECILIA (_pausing_).
That is not much to ask.
(_She steps in through the window_.)
MARLOWE.
Nor much for you to grant; but O, to me That moment is a circle without bounds,-- Because I see no end to my delight!
CECILIA.
O, sir, you make me very sad at heart; Let's speak no more of this. I am on my way To walk beside the river.
MARLOWE.
May I come?
CECILIA.
Ah, no; I'll go alone.
MARLOWE.
'Tis dark and dismal; Nor do I deem it safe!
CECILIA.
What can harm _me_?
If not above, at least I am beyond All common dangers. No, you shall not come.
I have some questions I would ask myself; And in the sullen, melancholy flow O' the unromantic Thames, that has been witness Of many tragical realities, Bare of adornment as its cold stone stairs, I may find sympathy, if not response.
MARLOWE.
You find both here. I know thy real life; We do not see the truth--or, O, how little!
Pure light sometimes through painted windows streams; And, when all's dark around thee, thou art fair!
Thou bear'st within an ever-burning lamp, To me more sacred than a vestal's shrine; For she may be of heartless chast.i.ty, False in all else, and proud of her poor ice, As though 'twere fire suppress'd; but thou art good For goodness' sake;--true-hearted, lovable, For truth and honour's sake; and such a woman, That man who wins, the G.o.ds themselves may envy.
CECILIA (_going_).
Considering all things, this is bitter sweet.
MARLOWE.
And I may come? (_following her_)
CECILIA (_firmly_).
You shall not.
MARLOWE.
I obey you.
CECILIA (_tenderly_).
Ah! Kit Marlowe,-- You think too much of me--and of yourself Too little!
MARLOWE.
Then I may----(_advancing_)
CECILIA (_firmly_).