Eliz monologue (Act 2) — The Saint's Tragedy

Too fast? We live too slow--our gummy blood Without fresh purging airs from heaven, would choke Slower and slower, till it stopped and froze. God! fight we not within a cursed world, Whose very air teems thick with leagued fiends-- Each word we speak has infinite effects-- Each soul we pass must go to heaven or hell-- And this our one chance through eternity To drop and die, like dead leaves in the brake, Or like the meteor stone, though whelmed itself, Kindle the dry moors into fruitful blaze-- And yet we live too fast! Be earnest, earnest, earnest; mad, if thou wilt: Do what thou dost as if the stake were heaven, And that thy last deed ere the judgment-day. When all's done, nothing's done. There's rest above-- Below let work be death, if work be love! [Exeunt.]