20
(She retires laughing, right.)
(Sylvester enters from Garden.)
Madam Pomeroy:
Give you good morrow Master Sylvester!
How goes the great work? Still the furnace burns.
You, if a man may, should th' elixir find,
And yet the years go by, it 'scapes you still,
But Age comes on you, and the fire burns low!
Sylvester:
Aye, 'Vita Ignis, Corpus Lignum Est.'
Life is the fire and the fuel are we!
Madam Pomeroy:
And as his shadow follows on a man,
So hangs the devil ever at his heels.
Sylvester:
Better than he should follow, than should lead,
Laodicean Mother Pomeroy,
