MEL. O dear father, nothing may me more displease, Nothing may do me more annoyance, Nothing may do me greater disease, Than to see you, father, in any perturbance, For me chiefly, or for any other chance. But for me I pray you not to be sad, For I have no cause but to be merry and glad. DAN. O sweet Melibaea, my daughter dear, I am replete with joy and felicity, For that ye be now in my presence here, As I perceive, in joy and prosperity; From death to life me thinketh it reviveth me; For the fearful dream that I had lately. MEL. What dream, sir, was that, I pray you heartily? DAN. Doubtless, me thought that I was walking In a fair orchard, where were places two: The one was a hot bath, wholesome and pleasing To all people that did repair thereto, To wash them and clean them from sickness also; The other a pit of foul stinking water; Shortly they died, all that therein did enter. And unto this wholesome bath methought that ye In the right path were coming apace, But before that methought that I did see A foul, rough bitch--a prick-eared cur it was-- Which straking her body along on the grass, And with her tail licked her so, that she Made herself a fair spaniel to be. This bitch then (methought) met you in the way, Leaping and fawning upon you apace, And round about you did run and play, Which made you then disport and solace; Which liked you so well, that in short space The way to the hot bath anon ye left it, And took the straight way to the foul pit. And ever ye looked continually Upon that same bitch, and so much her eyed, That ye came to the foul pit-brink suddenly, Like to have fallen in, and to have been destroyed, Which when I saw, anon then I cried, Starting in my sleep, and therewith did awake; That yet for fear, methink, my body doth quake. Was not this a fearful dream and marvellous? I pray you, daughter, what think ye now to this? _Hic_ MELIBAEA _certo tempore non loquitur, sed vultu lamentabili respicit_. Why speak ye not? why be ye now so studious? Is there anything that hath chanced you amiss? I am your father: tell me what it is. MEL. Alas, now your dream, which ye have expressed, Hath made me all pensive and sore abashed. DAN. I pray you, dear daughter, now tell me why? MEL. Sir, I know the cause of your vision, And what your dreadful dream doth signify. DAN. Thereof would I fain now have knowlition. MEL. Alas, dear father, alas, what have I done? Offended God as a wretch unworthy! DAN. Wherein? despair not; God is full of mercy. _Et genuflectat_.