OF NOTHING. 311 



Whilst I listen to thy voice, 



Chloris, I feel my heart decay: 

 That powerful noise 



Calls my fleeting soul away ; 

 O suppress that magic sound, 

 Which destroys without a wound 1 



Peace, Chloris, peace, or singing die, 

 That together you and I 



To heaven may go ; 



For all we know 

 Of what the blessed do above 

 Is that they sing, and that they love. 



PlSC. Well remembered, brother Peter : these verses 

 came seasonably, and we thank you heartily. Come, we 

 will all join together, my host and all, and sing my scholar's 

 catch over again, and then each man drink the other cup, 

 and to bed, and thank God we have a dry house over our 

 heads. 



PlSC. Well now, good night to everybody. 



PETER. And so say I. 



VEN. And so say I. 



COR. Good night to you all, and I thank you. 



[fiftft 



PlSC. Good morrow, brother Peter, and the like to you, 

 honest Coridon : come, my hostess says there is seven shil- 

 lings to pay ; let us each man drink a pot for his morning's 

 draught, and lay down his two shillings ; that so my hostess 



