PATRICK. Sweet messenger, Paranymph of all things fair, Who amidst the hierarchy Of the highest hosts of heaven Singest in melodious tone -- "Glory unto Thee alone, Holy, Holy Lord, be given!" ANGEL. Read the letter. PATRICK. With amaze, I see here "To Patrick" Oh, Can a slave be honoured so? ANGEL. Open it. PATRICK. It also says -- "Patrick! Patrick! hither come, Free us from our slavery!"-- More it means than I can see, Since I do not know by whom I am called. Oh, faithful guide, Speedily dispel my error! ANGEL. Look into this shining mirror. PATRICK. Heavens! ANGEL. What seest thou inside? PATRICK. Numerous people there seem thronging, Old men, children, women, who Seem to call me. ANGEL. Nor do you Stay, but satisfy their longing. You behold the Irish nation, Who expect to hear God's truth From your lips. Oh, chosen youth, Leave your slavery. The vocation God has given thee is to sow Faith o'er all the Irish soil. There as Legate thou shalt toil, Ireland's great Apostle. Go First to France, to German's home, The good bishop: there thou'lt make Thy profession: there thou'lt take The monk's habit, and to Rome Pass, where letters thou'lt procure For that mighty work of thine, In the bulls of Celestine: Thou wilt visit, then, in Tours Martin, the great bishop there. Now upborne upon the wind Come with me, for thou wilt find God has given with prescient care His commands to all, that so Fitly thy great work be done; But 'tis time we should be gone: Let us on our journey go. [They disappear. * * * * * ACT THE SECOND. HALL OF A TOWER IN THE PALACE OF EGERIUS. SCENE I. LUIS and POLONIA LUIS. Yes, Polonia, yes, for he Who betrays inconstancy Has no reason for complaining That another love is gaining On his own; that fault will be Ever punished so. For who Proudly soars that doth not fall? Therefore 'tis that I forestall Philip's love howe'er so true. He is nobler to the view, As one nobly born may be; But in that nobility, Which one's self can win and wear, I with justice may declare I am nobler far than he; I more honour have obtained Than on Philip's cradle rained: Let the fact excuse the boast, For this land from coast to coast Rings with victories I have gained. Three years is it since I came To these isles (it seems a day); Three swift years have rolled away Since I made it my chief aim Thee to serve -- my highest fame. Trophies numerous as the sand, Mars might envy, has my hand Won for thy great sire and thee -- Being the wonder of the sea, And th' amazement of the land.