Mel. No, not a moment’s thought beyond my time. 
Dispatch; ’tis much below me to attend
For one poor single fare.

Mal. So pitiless? 
But yet I may command thee, and I will: 
I love the Guise, even with my latest breath,
Beyond my soul, and my lost hopes of heaven: 
I charge thee, by my short-lived power, disclose
What fate attends my master.

Mel. If he goes To council when he next is called, he dies.

Mal. Who waits?

Enter Servant.

Go, give my lord my last adieu;
Say, I shall never see his eyes again;
But if he goes, when next he’s called, to council,
Bid him believe my latest breath, he dies.—­ [Exit Serv.
The sands run yet.—­O do not shake the glass!—­
                                            [Devil shakes the glass.
I shall be thine too soon!—­Could I repent!—­
Heaven’s not confined to moments.—­Mercy, mercy!

Mel. I see thy prayers dispersed into the winds,
And heaven has past them by. 
I was an angel once of foremost rank,
Stood next the shining throne, and winked but half;
So almost gazed I glory in the face,
That I could bear it, and stared farther in;
’Twas but a moment’s pride, and yet I fell,
For ever fell; but man, base earth-born man,
Sins past a sum, and might be pardoned more: 
And yet ’tis just; for we were perfect light,
And saw our crimes; man, in his body’s mire,
Half soul, half clod, sinks blindfold into sin,
Betrayed by frauds without, and lusts within.

Mel. Then I have hope.

Mal. Not so; I preached on purpose To make thee lose this moment of thy prayer.  Thy sand creeps low; despair, despair, despair!

Mal. Where am I now? upon the brink of life,
The gulph before me, devils to push me on,
And heaven behind me closing all its doors. 
A thousand years for every hour I’ve past,
O could I ’scape so cheap! but ever, ever! 
Still to begin an endless round of woes,
To be renewed for pains, and last for hell! 
Yet can pains last, when bodies cannot last? 
Can earthy substance endless flames endure? 
Or, when one body wears and flits away,
Do souls thrust forth another crust of clay,
To fence and guard their tender forms from fire? 
I feel my heart-strings rend!—­I’m here,—­I’m gone! 
Thus men, too careless of their future state,
Dispute, know nothing, and believe too late.
                          [A flash of lightning, they sink together.

SCENE III.—­Enter Duke of GUISE; Cardinal, and AUMALE.

Card. A dreadful message from a dying man,
A prophesy indeed! 
For souls, just quitting earth, peep into heaven,
Make swift acquaintance with their kindred forms,
And partners of immortal secrets grow.

Aum. ’Tis good to lean on the securer side:  When life depends, the mighty stake is such, Fools fear too little, and they dare too much.