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Lest the king prove false.
[Ereunt. Injure a princess, and a scandal lay Enter ARETHUSA and a Lady.
Upon my fortunes, fam’d to be so great ;
Calling a great part of my dowry in question? Are. Comes he not?
Phi. Madam, this truth, which I shall speak, Lady. Madam?
will be Are. Will Philaster come?
Foolish : But, for your fair and virtuous self, Lady. Dear madam, you are wont
I could afford myself to have no right To credit me at first.
To any thing, you wished.
Are. Philaster, know,
Phi. Madam! Both?
If I not calmly may enjoy them both. How looked he, when he told thee he would come? Phi. I would do much to save that noble life: Lady. Why, well.
Yet would be loth to have posterity Are. And not a little fearful ?
Find in our stories, that Philaster gave Lady. Fear, madam? sure he knows not what His right unto a sceptre, and a crown, it is.
To save a lady's longing Are. Ye are all of his faction; the whole court Are. Nay then, hear! Is bold in praise of him; whilst I
I must and will have them, and more May live neglected, and do noble things,
Phi. What more? As fools in strife throw gold into the sea,
Are. Or lose that little life the gods prepared, Drowned in the doing. But, I know he fears. To trouble this poor piece of earth withal. Lady. Fear ? Madam, methought, his looks hid Phi. Madam, what more?
Are. Turn, then, away thy face. Of love than fear.
Phi. No. Are. Of love? to whom? 'to you !
Are. Do. Did you deliver those plain words, I sent,
Phi. I can't endure it. Turn away my face? With such a winning gesture, and quick look, I never yet saw enemy, that looked That you have caught him?
So dreadfully, but that I thought myself
As great a basilisk as he; or spake
Nor beast, that I could turn from : Shall I then Why she did this, or that, but has her ends, Begin to fear sweet sounds ? a lady's voice, And knows she does well, never gave the world Whom I do love? Say, you would have my life; Two things so opposite, so contrary,
Why, I will give it you; for it is of me As he and I am : If a bowl of blood,
A thing so loathed, and unto you, that ask, Drawn from this arm of mine, would poison thee, Of so poor use, that I will make no price: A draught of his would cure thee. Of love to me? If you entreat, I will unmovedly hear. Lady. Madam, I think I hear him.
Are. Yet, for my sake, a little bend thy looks. Are. Bring him in.
Phi. I do. Ye gods that would not have your dooms with Are. Then know, I must have them, and thee. stood,
Phi. And me? Whose holy wisdoms at this time it is,
Are. Thy love; without which, all the land, To make the passion of a feeble maid
Discovered yet, will serve me for no use, The way unto your justice, I obey.
But to be buried in.
Phi. Is't possible?
Are. With it, it were too little to bestow Lady. Here is my lord Philaster.
On thee. Now, though thy breath do strike me Are. Oh! 'tis well.
dead, Withdraw yourself.
(Erit Lady. (Which, know, it may) I have unript my breast. Phi. Madam, your messenger
Phi. Madam, you are too full of noble thoughts, Made me believe you wished to speak with me. To lay a train for this contemned life;
Are. 'Tis true, Philaster; but the words are such Which you may have for asking: To suspect I have to say, and do so ill beseem
Were base, where I deserve no ill. Love you, The mouth of woman, that I wish them said, By all my hopes, I do above my life: And yet am loth to speak them. Have you known But how this passion should proceed from you That I have ought detracted from your worth? So violently, would amaze a man, Have I in person wronged you? or have set
That would be jealous. My baser instruments, to throw disgrace
Are. Another soul, into my body shot, Upon your virtues ?
Could not have filled me with more strength and Phi. Never, madam, you.
spirit, Are. Why, then, should you, in such a public Than this thy breath. But spend not hasty time place,
In seeking how I came thus: 'Tis the gods,
The gods, that make me so; and, sure, our love | Which will for ever on my conscience lie.
Are. Then, good Philaster, give him scope In that the secret justice of the gods
Phi. I will.
Pha. My princely mistress, as true lovers ought, You should come often. How shall we devise I come to kiss these fair hands; and to shew, To hold intelligence, that our true loves, In outward ceremonies, the dear love, On any new occasion, may agree
Writ in my heart. What path is best to tread?
Phi. If I shall have an answer no directlier, Phi. I have a boy,
I am gone.
Pha. To what would he have answer?
Pha. Sirrah, I forbare you before the king.
Pha. But now time is fitter : Do but offer Of many several flowers, bred in the bay,
To make mention of your right to any kingdom, Stuck in that mystic order, that the rareness Though it be scarce habitableDelighted me: But ever when he turned
Phi. Good sir, let me go. His tender eyes upon them, he would weep, Pha. And by my sword-As if he meant to make them grow again.
Phi. Peace, Pharamond! If thouSeeing such pretty helpless innocence
Are. Leave us, Philaster. Dwell in his face, I asked him all his story.
Phi. I have done. He told me, that his parents gentle died,
Pha. You are gone: By heav’n, I'll fetch you Leaving him to the mercy of the fields,
back. Which gave him roots; and of the crystalsprings,
Phi. You shall not need. Which did not stop their courses; and the sun,
Pha. What now? Which still, he thanked him, yielded him his light. Phi. Know, Pharamond, Then took he up his garland, and did shew I loath to brawl with such a blast as thou, What every flower, as country people hold, Who art nought but a valiant voice : But, if Did signify; and how all, ordered thus,
Thou shalt provoke me further, men shall say Expressed his grief: And, to my thoughts, did “ Thou wert," and not lament it. read
Pha. Do you slight The prettiest lecture of his country art,
My greatness so, and in the chamber of the That could be wished; so thats methought, I
princess ? could
Phi. It is a place, to which, I must confess, Have studied it. I gladly entertained him, I owe a reverence: But were it the church, Who was as glad to follow; and have got Ay, at the altar, there's no place so safe, The trustiest, lovingest, and gentlest boy, Where thou dar'st injure me, but I dare kill thee. That ever inaster kept. Him.will I send And for your greatness, know, sir, I can grasp To wait on you, and bear our hidden love. You and your greatness thus, thus into nothing.
Give not a word, not a word back! Farewell. Enter Lady.
-[Exit PHILASTER. Are. 'Tis well; no more.
Pha. 'Tis an odd fellow, madam : We must Lady. Madam, the prince is come to do his
His mouth with some office, when we are marAre. What will you do, Philaster, with your
Are. You were best make him your controller, Phi. Why, that, which all the gods have ap Pha. I think he would discharge it well. But, pointed out for me.
. madam, Are. Dear, hide thyself. Bring in the prince. I hope our hearts are knit; and yet, so slow Phi. Hide me from Pharamond !
The ceremonies of state are, that 'twill be long When thunder speaks, which is the voice of Jove, Before our hands be so. If then you please, Though I do reverence, yet I hide me not ; Being agreed in heart, let us not wait And shall a stranger prince have leave to brag For dreaming form, but take a little stolen Unto a foreign nation, that he made
Delights, and so prevent our joys to come. Philaster hide himself?
Are. If you dare speak such thoughts, Are. He cannot know it.
I must withdraw in honour.
[Erit. Phi. Though it should sleep for ever to the Pha. The constitution of my body will never world,
hold out till the wedding! I must seek elseIt is a simple sin to hide mysel,
Nay, weep not, gentle boy! 'Tis more than time; Enter PHILASTER and BELLARIO.
Thou didst attend the princess. Phi. And thou shalt find her honourable, boy,
Bel. I am gone. Full of regard unto thy tender youth,
But since I am to part with you, my lord, For thine own modesty; and, for my sake, And none knows, whether I shall live to do Apter to give than thou wilt be to ask,
More service for you, take this little prayer; Ay, or deserve.
Heaven bless your loves, your fights, all your des Bel. Sir, you did take me up, when I was no
signs ! thing;
May sick men, if they have your wish, be well ; ; And only yet am something, by being yours.
And Heaven hate those, you curse, though I be You trusted me unknown; and that, which you
Erit. were apt.
Phi. The love of boys unto their lords is strange; To construe a simple innocence in me,
I have read wonders of it: Yet this boy, Perhaps, might have been craft; the cunning of For my sake (if a man may judge by looks a boy
And speech) would out-do story. I may see Hardened in lies and theft: Yet ventured you A day to pay him for his loyalty. [Erit PHI. To part my miseries and me; for which I never can expect to serve a lady
Enter PHARAMOND. That bears more honour in her breast than you. Pha. Why should these ladies stay so long?Phi. But, boy, it will prefer thee. Thou'rt They must come this way: I know the queen young,
employs them not; for the reverend mother sent And bear'st a childish overflowing love
me word, they would be all for the garden. If To them, that clap thy cheeks, and speak thee they should all prove honest now, I were in a
fair taking. I was never so long without sport in But, when thy judgment comes to rule those pas my life; and, in my conscience, it's not my fault. sions,
Oh, for our country ladies! Here's one bolted;
Pha. Shall I not be a trouble ?
Gal. Not to me, sir. With a servant, he thought trusty: I remember, Pha. Nay, nay, you are too quick. By this My father would prefer the boys he kept sweet hand To greater' men than he; but did it not,
Gal. You'll be forsworn, sir; 'tis but an old Till they were grown too saucy for himself. glove. If you will talk at distance, I am for you:
Phi. Why, gentle boy, I find no fault at all But, good prince, be not bawdy, nor do not brag. In thy behaviour.
These two I bar: And then, I think, I shall have Bel. Sir; if I have made
sense enough to answerall the weighty apothegms A fault of ignorance, instruct my youth: your royal blood shall manage. I shall be willing, if not apt, to learn ;
Pha. Dear lady, can you love? Age and experience will adorn my mind
Gal. Dear, prince! how dear? I ne'er cost With larger knowledge: And, if I have done you a coach yet, nor put you to the dear repenA wilful fault, think me not past all hope tance of a banquet. Here's no scarlet, sir, to For once.
What master holds so strict a hand blush the sin out it was given for. This wire Over his boy, that he will part with him
mine own hair covers; and this face has been so Without one warning ? Let me be corrected, far from being dear to any, that it ne'er cost penTo break my stubbornness, if it be so,
ny painting : And, for the rest of my poor wardRather than turn me off; and I shall mend. robe, such as you see, it leaves no hand behind
h. Tav love doth plead so prettily to stay, it, to make the jealous mercer's wife curse our
Pha. Do ladies of this country use to give no
your grace means growing to fatness; and then With joy receive thee; as I live, I will.
your only remedy (upon my knowledge, prince)
help it !
is, in a morning, a cup of neat white-wine, brewed Such pretty begging blanks, I should commend with carduus; then fast till supper ; about eight | Your forehead, or your cheeks, and kiss you too. you may eat; use exercise, and keep a sparrow Pha. Do it in prose ; you cannot miss it, mahawk; you can shoot in a tiller: But, of all, your
dam. grace must fly, phlebotomy, fresh pork, conger, Meg. I shall, I shall. and clarified whey: They are all dullers of the Pha. By my life, you shall not. vital spirits.
I'll prompt you first: Can you do it now? Pha. Lady, you talk of nothing all this while. Meg. Methinks 'tis easy now; I ha' don't be Gal. 'Tis very true, sir; I talk of you.
fore; Pha. This is a crafty wench; I like her wit But yet I should stick at it. well; 'twill be rare to 'stir up a leaden appetite.
Pha. Stick till to-morrow; She's a Danae, and must be courted in a shower I'll ne'er part you, sweetest. But we lose time. of gold. Madam, look here! All these, and more
you love me? than
Meg. Love you, my lord ! How would you have Gal. What have you there, my lord ? Gold !
me love you? Now, as I live, 'tis fair gold! You would have Pha. I'll teach you in a short sentence, 'cause silver for it, to play with the pages: You could I will not load your memory: This is all, love me, not have taken me in a worse time; but, if you And lie with me. have present use, my lord, I'll send my man with Meg. Was it lie with
you said ? 'tis silver, and keep your gold for you.
impossible! Pha, Lady, Lady!
Pha. Not to a willing mind, that will endeaGal. She's coming, sir, behind, will take white money. Yet, for all this I'll match you. If I do not teach you to do it, as easily, in one (Erit Gal. behind the hangings.
night, Pha. If there be but two such more in this As you'll go to bed, I'll lose my royal blood for't. kingdom, and near the court, we may even hang Meg. Why, prince, you have a lady of your own, up our harps. Ten such camphire constitutions That yet wants teaching. as this, would call the golden age again in ques.
Pha. I'll sooner teach a mare the old meation, and teach the old way for every ill-faced sures, than teach her any thing belonging to the husband to get his own children; and what a function. She's afraid to lie with herself, if she mischief that will breed, let all consider ! have but any masculine imagination about her;
I know, when we are married, I must ravish her. Enter MEGRA.
Meg. By my honour, that's a foul fault indeed; Here's another: If she be of the same last, the but time, and your good help, will wear it out, sir. devil shall pluck her on.—Many fair mornings, Pha. And for any other see, excepting your lady.
dear self, dearest lady, I had rather be sir Tim Meg. As many mornings bring as many days, the schoolmaster, and leap a dairy-maid. Fair, sweet, and hopeful to your grace.
Meg. Has your grace seen the court-star, Ga. Pha. She gives good words yet; sure this latea? wench is free.
Pha. Out upon her! She's as cold of her faIf your more serious business do not call you, vour as an apoplex : She sailed by but now. Let me hold quarter with you: we'll talk an hour Meg. And how do you hold her wit, sir? Out quickly:
Pha. I hold her wit? The strength of all the Meg. What would your grace talk of? guard cannot hold it, if they were tied to it; she
Pha. Of some such pretty subject as yourself. would blow them out of the kingdom. They talk I'll go no further than your eye, or lip; of Jupiter; he is but a squib-cracker to her: There's theme enough for one man for an age. Look well about you, and you may find a tongueMeg. Sir, they stand right, and my lips are yet bolt. But speak, sweet lady, shall I be freely even,
welcome? Smooth, young enough, ripe enough, red enough, Meg. Whither? Or my glass wrongs me.
Pha. To your bed. If you
mistrust my faith, Pha. Oh, they are two twinned cherries dyed you do me the unnoblest wrong. in blushes,
Meg. I dare not, prince, I dare not. Which those fair suns above, with their bright Pha. Make your own conditions, my purse beams,
shall seal them; and what you dare imagine you Reflect upon and ripen. Sweetest beauty, can want, I'll furnish you withal : Give two hours
Bow down those branches, that the longing taste to your thoughts every morning about it. Come, · Of the faint looker-on may meet those blessings, I know you are bashful; speak in my ear, will And taste and live.
you be mine? Keep this, and with it me: Soon Meg. Oh, delicate sweet prince !
I will visit you. She that hath snow enough about her heart, Meg: My lord, my chamber's most unsafe; but To take the wanton spring of ten such lines off, when 'tis night, I'll find some means to slip into May be a nun without probation. Sir,
your lodging; till whenYou have, in such neat poetry, gathered a kiss, Pha. Till when, this, and my heart go with That if I had but five lines of that number, thee !
[Ereunt several ways.
And builds himself caves, to abide in them. Enter GALATEA from behind the hangings.
Come, sir, tell me truly, does your lord love me? Gal. Oh, thou pernicious petticoat-prince! are Bel. Love, madam? I know not what it is. these your virtues? Well, if I do not lay a train Are. Canst thou know grief, and never yet to blow your sport up, I am no womar : And,
knew'st love? lady Dowsabel, I'll fit you for’t. (Exit. Thou art deceived, boy. Does he speak of me,
As if he wished me well?
Bel. If it be love,
To forget all respect of his own friends,
In thinking of your face; if it be love,
Mingled with starts, crying your name as loud Are. And has he done it?
And hastily as men in the streets do fire; Lady. Yes, madam.
If it be love, to weep himself away,
Or killed, because it might have been your chance; Lady. No, madam.
If, when he goes to rest (which will not be) 'Twixt every prayer
he says, to name you once, Enter GALATEA.
As others drop a bead-be to be in love, Are. Oh, you are welcome. What, good news? Then, madam, I dare swear he loves you.
Gal. As good as any one can tell your grace, Are. Oh, you're a cunning boy, and taught to That says, she has done that, you would have
For your lord's credit; but thou know'st a lie, Are. Hast thou discovered ?
That bears this sound, is welcomer to me Gal. I have strain’d a point of modesty for Than any truth, that says, he loves me not. you.
Lead the way, boy: Do you attend me too. Are. I prithee, how?
'Tis thy lord's business hastes me thus. Away. Gal. In list’ning after bawdry. I see, let a la
(Ereunt. dy live never so modestly, she shall be sure to find a lawful time to hearken after bawdry. Your
Enter Dion, CLEREMONT, THRASILINE, MEprince, brave Pharamond, was so hot on't!
GRA, and GALATEA. Are. With whom ?
Dion. Come, ladies, shall we talk a round? As Gal. Why, with the lady I suspected : I can tell the time and place.
Do walk a mile, women should talk an hour, Are. Oh, when, and where?
supper: 'Tis their exercise. Gal. To-night, his lodging.
Gal. 'Tis late. Are. Run thyself into the presence; mingle
Meg. 'Tis all there again
My eyes will do to lead me to my bed. With other ladies ; leave the rest to me.
Gal. I fear, they are so heavy, you'll scarce find If destiny (to whom we dare not say,
The way to your lodging with them to night. Why, thou did'st this !') have not decreed it so
Pha. Not a-bed, ladies? You're good sitters up. Lady. Here, madam.
What think you of a pleasant dream, to last
Megra. I should choose, my lord, a pleasing Are. Sir, you are sad to change your service;
wake before it. Is't not so? Bel. Madam, I have not changed; I wait on
Enter ARETHUSA and BELLARIO. you,
Are. 'Tis well, my lord; you're courting of laTo do him service.
dies. Are. Thou disclaimest in me.
Is't not late, gentlemen ? Tell me thy name.
Cle. Yes, madam. Bel. Bellario.
Are. Wait you there.
[Erit. Are. Thou canst sing, and play?
Meg. She's jealous, as I live. Look you, my Bel. If grief will give me leave, madam, I can.
lord, Are. Alas! what kind of grief can thy years The princess has a Hilas, an Adonis. know?
Pha. His form is angel-like. Hadst thou a curst master, when thou went'st to Meg. Why, this is he must, when you are wed, school?
Sit by your pillow, like young Apollo, with Thou art not capable of other grief.
His hand and voice, binding your thoughts in sleep: Thy brows and cheeks are smooth as waters be, The princess does provide him for you, and for When no breath troubles them: Believe me, boy,
herself. Care seeks out wrinkled brows and hollow eyes, Pha. I find no music in these boy's.