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 passing 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 chastity,
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, lov