_Theo._ Farewell, my Lord farewell, this World is all Departure; Oh that I could appoint a Place to meet thee after Death; yet through the ranging of my Soul at Liberty, I’ll surely ken thee afar; methinks I see thee shine upon the brightest Mountain in the highest Orb, stretching forth thy self, and pluming thy immortal Wings, preparing to take thy everlasting and eternal Flight; and when we meet to part no more, may all our Song be Love, in Divine Tranquility. _Dolo._ This lofty, sublime Speculation, proceeds from your own Virtue, not from my Merit; for if the Work of this Life, makes a Garment for the Soul, mine will be stain’d with Avarice, Debauchery and Revenge; you are Innocent: O Innocence! thou only Traveller to Heaven, farewell for ever. [_Ex._ SCENE, _a Wood_. _Thunder and Lightning. Enter_ King. _King._ What a Smell of Sulphur is here? Was ever Day like this? surely all the Infernals are rising up in Arms, in Thunder, Lightning, and Hail; the Air’s in a Flame; I think my self in the Sun, expecting every Moment to be dissolv’d, and Conscience smiles. [_Ex._ King. _A_ Genius _descends in a Cloud, and_ Death _enters upon a pale-dun Horse_. _Death._ Thou Genius of the King, confront me not. _Genius._ Oh Death, thou long-liv’d Mortal, say for what art thou come, thus proudly aloft, and hieroglyphick mounted? _Death._ To Wars, Victory, Revenge, with Stings from _Lucifer_ my imperial Grandfather; I drive my Parent Man from Nature; I’ll die, be born again, and pursue him in Eternity. _Genius._ Thus when Man commits a Crime, he creates a Fiend to fight against him: remember thou Toad of Hell, all the Elements that compound the Nature of Mortals, are now conspiring against thee. _Death._ Discord horrid! _Genius._ Thou Off-spring of Sin, that is, of that Nature that will draw upon it all the eternal Vengeance of Heaven! _Death._ Thou mak’st me tremble. _Genius._ Tremble thou, when yon marble Sky shall rent, flashing swift as the Lightning glimpse away; when crimson Elements appear, and Fury rides on flaming Winds, and spreads himself abroad, deep in the Bowels of this Globe shall wake, nay twice ten thousand Thunders, renting the rocky Mountains, and hurling Kingdoms to the Sky; Cataracts of Fire, and purple Storms shall rage, and hurricane thy infernal Soul. _Death._ Discord horrid! [_Ex._ Death. _Enter_ King. _King._ Man, what is thy Business here to interrupt my Solitude? _Genius._ I follow the Oppress’d, where I often find Relief. _King._ What is thy Name?