"Per. That's your superstition.
"1 Sail. Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it still hath been observed; and we are strong in earnest. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight.
"Per. Be it as you think meet. Most wretched queen!
"Lyc. Here she lies, sir.
"Per. A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear;
No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements
Forgot thee utterly; nor have I time
To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight
Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze;
Where, for a monument upon thy bones,
And aye-remaining lamps, the belching whale,
And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,
Lying with simple shells. Lychorida,
Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper,
My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander
Bring me the satin coffer: lay the babe
Upon the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say
A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.
[Exit Lychorida.
"2 Sail. Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulk'd and bitumed ready.
"Per. I thank thee."Ib.
Page:Gesta Romanorum - Swan - Wright - 2.djvu/485
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NOTES.
473
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