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That hath the smallest sign or omen in it. It was not sad?

Viol. Nay, rather strange; Methought A christ'ning feast within your bower was held; But when the infant to the font was brought, It prov'd a full-grown man in armour clad.

O blessing on thy dream! From death to life restor'd is joyful birth. It is, it is! Come to my heart, sweet maid, (Embracing Viola.) A blessing on thyself and on thy sleep! I feel a kindling life within me stir, That doth assure me it has shadow'd forth A joy that soon shall be.

Ter.So may it prove! But trust not such vain fancies, nor appear Too much elated; for unhappy Ulrick Swears that your Beacon, after this night's watch, Shall burn no more.

Aur.He does! then will we have A noble fire. This night our lofty blaze Shall through the darkness shoot full many a league Its streamy rays, like to a bearded star Preceding changeful—aye, and better times. It may in very truth. O if his bark (For many a bark within its widen'd reach The dark seas traverse) should our light descry Should this be so—it may; perhaps it will.