The Floating Island A Tragi-Comedy |
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Scena V.
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 | The Floating Island |  |
Scena V.
Enter to them Fancie in the Tiremans Coronet, hair dissheveld, in black and Silver habit. Fuga, Amorous, Timerous.Fan.
Sir, here's a Crown, (and tis the worst of mine)
Not to be match'd in all the globe of heaven.
Now shall I feed upon Ambrosia
Most divelishly. What gods are these two Mars-es?
Am.
Hell is broke loose; here are more
Feinds then two.
Fug.
It shames me to look up; through griefe I cannot.
Tim.
Wud I could die a sleep in some darke hole
Unknown unto my selfe and all the world.
Am.
Malevolo, th' art damn'd.
Mal.
How know you that?
Am.
And thou must sinke to hell now instantly
For killing Morphe. Thou shalt drink the same
That very Poyson.
Mal.
Wel, so you'l begin.
| The Floating Island | |