50
3rd Masque:
Aye.
At our last parting in the Seville square,
By whom delated to the Inquisition,
You best should know, Sylvester, both of us
Were cloth'd in antick raiment, wrought with flame,
The painted fires of the San-Benito,
Upright on mine, on yours, 'fuego revolto,'
The pictur'd fires turn'd downward, bye and bye
Their fickle-figured Faith that tops the tower
Above, glowed golden in no painted flame,
But the fierce fire lit for me, your friend,
Where flesh and spirit sunder'd horribly.
I pledge you, Sylvester.
Sylvester:
It is a dream!
But I'll go through with it, come raise your mask
And doff your domino.
