"_Ang._ No, my dear lady; I could weary stars, And force the wakeful moon to lose her eyes, By my late watching, but to wait on you. When at your prayers you kneel before the altar, Methinks I'm singing with some quire in heaven, So blest I hold me in your company. Therefore, my most loved mistress, do not bid Your boy, so serviceable, to get hence, For then you break his heart. "_Dor._ Be nigh me still then. In golden letters down I'll set that day Which gave thee to me. Little did I hope To meet such worlds of comfort in thyself, This little pretty body, when I, coming Forth of the temple, heard my beggar-boy, My sweet-faced, godly beggar-boy, crave an alms, Which with glad hand I gave,--with lucky hand! And when I took thee home, my most chaste bosom Methought was filled with no hot wanton fire, But with a holy flame, mounting since higher, On wings of cherubim, than it did before. "_Ang._ Proud am I that my lady's modest eye So likes so poor a servant. "_Dor._ I have offered Handfuls of gold but to behold thy parents. I would leave kingdoms, were I queen of some, To dwell with thy good father.... Show me thy parents; Be not ashamed. "_Angelo._ I am not: I did never Know who my mother was; but by yon palace, Filled with bright heavenly courtiers, I dare assure you, And pawn these eyes upon it, and this hand, My father is in heaven; and, pretty mistress, If your illustrious hour-glass spend his sand, No worse than yet it does upon my life, You and I both shall meet my father there, And he shall bid you welcome. "_Dor._ O blessed day! We all long to be there, but lose the way." But the passage in all Dekkar's works which will be most likely to immortalize his name is that often-quoted one, taken from a play whose very name is unmentionable to prudish ears:-- "Patience, my lord! why, 't is the soul of peace; It makes men look like gods--The best of men That e'er wore earth about him was a Sufferer, A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit; The first true gentleman that ever breathed."