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Hurst, Fannie, 1889-1968

"A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 6"


EUSEBIUS.
Not so, my friend; I only ask what herein were your will?
PHILOLOGUS.
I cannot, neither will I tell, whereto I would be bent.
THEOLOGUS.
These words do nothing edify, but rather fancies fill,
Which we would gladly, if we could, endeavour for to kill.
Wherefore I once again request, together let us pray,
And so we will leave you to God, and send you hence away.
PHILOLOGUS.
I cannot pray; my spirit is dead, no faith in me remain.
THEOLOGUS.
Do as you can; no more than might we can ask at your hand.
PHILOLOGUS,
My prayer[61] turned is to sin; for God doth it disdain.
EUSEBIUS.
It is the Falsehood of the Spirit, which do your health withstand,
That teach you this: wherefore in time reject his filthy band.
THEOLOGUS.
Come, kneel by me, and let us pray the Lord of Heaven unto.
PHILOLOGUS.
With as good will as did the devil out of the deaf man go. [_Aside_.
O God, which dwellest in the heavens, &c.
Tush! sirs, you do your labours lose: see, where Belzabub doth come,
And doth invite me to a feast: you therefore speak in vain.
Yea, if you ask ought more of me, in answer I will be dumb:
I will not waste my tongue for nought; as soon shall one small grain
Of mustard-seed fill all the world, as I true faith attain.


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