_Hub._ Why, my hearts, would you start the liquor in my eyes? I go where there's brine enough. Twelve hours' sail with fortune will bring me back--but if I come not, remember your king! [_Exeunt soldiers_] They know 'tis death--they know 'tis death. And what Is that? We are all guests in God's great house, The Universe, and Death is but his page To show us to the chamber where we sleep. What though the bed be dust, to wake is sure; Not birds but angels flutter at the eaves And call us, singing. [_Enter Gersa_] Gersa, what success? _Ger._ The bags are all aboard, sir. _Hub._ And portioned to every vessel? _Ger._ Ay, sir. _Hub._ Well despatched? _Ger._ The men heaved as though the sacks held all the pope's treasury and they were to take their pay out of it. _Hub._ Yet they found the contents not so heavy as gold, I hope. _Ger._ Nor so light as feathers, sir. _Hub._ But I pray they'll fly as well, and more to the purpose. Aboard with you now. I'll not be long behind you. [_Exit Gersa_] If this, my careful stratagem, should fail, God help the friendless boy on England's throne! Now Pembroke's noble strength must e'en to coffin; And Isabel across the sea cares not, But happier in a gentler husband's love Takes little thought of John of England's heir, Who has his father's beauty, not his heart,-- Just so much of that proud and guilty blood As makes him kingly nor corrupts his own. ... But, come, my soul! Prepare thee for a world Of rarer breath, lest thou too rudely go To th' high conclave of spirits. Father? [_Enter friar Sebastian_] _Fr. Seb._ Son, Art ready for the sacrament? _Hub._ I lack A prayer of thine to make me so. Give me Such blessing as you'd lay upon me were Death couchant for my heart, and on my brow Drop thou the holy unguent that doth fit The body for the last touch of the soul. _Fr. Seb._ My love is to thy mortal frailty bound, And first I'll bless thee as an earthly father, Praying that thou mayst smite thine enemies. [_Re-enter Roland_] _Rol_ Your pardon, Hubert. Lady Albemarle Is here, and begs for instant sight of you. _Hub._ My sister? I will see her. [_Exit Roland_] Wait you, father. The world must still intrude on Heaven's affairs. [_Exit friar through large folding doors rear as lady Albemarle enters left_] _La. Alb._ Brother! Is Glaia here? _Hub._ She is. But why This eagerness? _La. Alb._ My lord says that you go To meet the French. Is 't true? _Hub._ In one hour's time I count myself at sea. _La. Alb._ Then what--O, where Shall I hide Glaia?