« ZurückWeiter »
Run into whey! It stood upon his brow, Come, gentlemen, let's make our friends acLike a cold winter dew.
quainted, Phi. Gentlemen,
Lest the king prove false.
[Exeunt. You have no suit to me? I am no minion : You stand, methinks, like men, that would be
Enter ARETHUSA and a Lady. courtiers,
Are. Comes he not?
Are. But didst thou tell me so?
I am forgetful, and my woman's strength Phi. Well, very well;
Is so o'ercharged with dangers like to grow And so well, that, if the king please, I find About my marriage, that these under things I may live many years.
Dare not abide in such a troubled sea. Dion. The king must please,
How looked he, when he told thee he would come? Whilst we know what you are, and who you are, Lady. Why, well. Your wrongs and injuries. Shrink not, worthy sir, Are. And not a little fearful? But add your father to you: In whose name, Lady. Fear, madam? sure, he knows not what We'll waken all the gods, and conjure up
it is. The rods of vengeance, the abused people; Are. Ye are all of his faction; the whole court Who, like to raging torrents, shall swell high, Is bold in praise of him; whilst I And so begirt the dens of these male-dragons, May live neglected, and do noble things, That, through the strongest safety, they shall beg As fools in strife throw gold into the sea, For mercy at your sword's point.
Drowned in the doing. But, I know he fears. Phi. Friends, no more;
Lady. Fear? Madam, methought, his looks hid Our ears may be corrupted : 'Tis an age We dare not trust our wills to. Do you love me? Of love than fear. Thra. Do we love Heaven and honour?
Are. Of love? to whom? to you! Phi. My lord Dion,
Did you deliver those plain words, I sent, You had a virtuous gentlewoman called you fa- With such a winning gesture, and quick look, ther;
That you have caught him? Is she yet alive?
Lady. Madam, I mean to you. Dion. Most honoured sir, she is :
Are. Of love to me? alas ! thy ignorance And, for the penance but of an idle dream, Lets thee not see the crosses of our births. Ilas undertook a tedious pilgrimage.
Nature, that loves not to be questioned
Why she did this, or that, but has her ends, Enter a Lady.
And knows she does well, never gave the world Phi. Is it to me, or any of these gentlemen, Two things so opposite, so contrary,
As he and I am: If a bowl of blood, Lady. 'To you, brave lord: The princess would Drawn from this arm of mine, would poison thee, entreat your present company.
A draught of his would cure thee. Of love to me? Phi. The princess send for me! You are mis Lady. Madam, I think I hear him. taken.
Are. Bring him in. Lady. If you be called Philaster, 'tis to you. Ye gods, that would not have your dooms with
Phi. Kiss her fair hand, and say I will attend stood, her.
Whose holy wisdoms at this time it is, Dion. Do you know what you do?
To make the passion of a feeble maid Phi. Yes; go to see a woman.
way unto your justice, I obey. Cle. But do you weigh the danger you are in?
Lady. Here is my lord Philaster.
[Erit Lady Phi. I do not think it, gentlemen; she's noble; Phi. Madam, your messenger
shoot me dead, or those true red Made me believe you wished to speak with me. And white friends in her face
soul Are. 'Tis true, Philaster; but the words are such out:
I have to say, and do so ill beseem There's all the danger in it. But, be what may, The mouth of woman, that I wish them said, Her single name hath armed me. [Exit Phi. And yet am loth to speak them. Have you known, Dion. Go on :
That I have ought detracted from your worth? And be as truly happy as thou art fearless. Have I in person wronged you? or have set
Her eye may
My baser instruments, to throw disgrace But how this passion should proceed from you U pon your virtues ?
So violently, would amaze a man, Phi Never, madam, you.
That would be jealous. Are. Why, then, should you, in such a public Are. Another soul, into my body shot, place,
Could not have filled me with more strength and Injure a princess, and a scandal lay
spirit, C'pon my fortunes, famed to be so great; Than this thy breath. But spend not hasty time Calling a great part of my dowry in question? In seeking how I came thus : 'Tis the gods, Phi. Madam, this truth, which I shall speak, The gods, that make me so; and, sure, our love will be
Will be the nobler, and the better blest,
Is mingled with it. Let us leave,
Lest some unwelcome guest should fall betwixt us. Are. Philaster, know,
Phi. 'Twill be ill I must enjoy these kingdoms.
I should abide here long. Phi. Madam! Both?
Are. 'Tis true; and worse
To hold intelligence, that our true loves,
What path is best to tread?
Phi. I have a hoy, His right unto a sceptre, and a crown,
Sent by the gods, I hope, to this intent, To save a lady's longing.
Not yet seen in the court. Hunting the buck, Are. Nay then, hear!
I found him sitting by a fountain side, I must and will have them, and more
Of which he borrowed some to quench his thirst, Phi. What more?
And paid the nymph again as much in tears. Are. Or lose that little life the gods prepared, A garland lay him by, made by himself, To trouble this poor piece of earth withal. Of many several flowers, bred in the bay, Phi. Madan, what more?
Stuck in that mystic order, that the rareness Are. Turn, then, away thy face.
Delighted me: But ever when he turned Phi. No.
His tender eyes upon them, he would weep, Are. Do.
As if he meant to make them grow again.
Dwell in his face, I asked him all his story.
Leaving him to the mercy of the fields, So horribly, but that I thought my tongue
Which gave him roots; and of the crystal springs, Bore thunder underneath, as much as his; Which did not stop their courses; and the sun, Nor beast, that I could turn froin: Shall I then Which still, he thanked him, yielded him his light. Begin to fear sweet sounds ? a lady's voice, Then took he up his garland, and did shew Whom I do love? Say, you would have my life; What every flower, as country people hold, Whv, I will give it you; for it is to me
Did signify; and how all, ordered thus, A thing so loathed, and unto you, that ask, Expressed his grief: And, to my thoughts, did Of so poor use, that I will make no price :
read If you entreat, I will unmovedly hear.
The prettiest lecture of his country art, Are. Yet, for my sake, a little bend thy looks. That could be wished; so that, methought, I could Phi, I do.
Have studied it. I gladly entertained him,
The trustiest, lovingest, and gentlest boy,
Are. 'Tis well; no more. On thee. Now, though thy breath do strike me Lady. Madam, the prince is come to do his dead,
service. (Which, know, it may) I have unript my breast. Are. What will you do, Philaster, with yourself?
Phi. Madarn, you are too full of noble thoughts, Phi. Why, that, which all the gods have apTo lay a train for this contemned life,
pointed out for me. Which you muy bave for asking: To suspect Are. Dear, hide thyself. Bring in the prince. Were base, where I deserve no ill. Love you, Phi. Hide me from Pharamond ! By all my hopes, I do above my life:
When thunder speaks, which is the voice of Jove VOL. I.
Though I do reverence, yet I hide me not; Pha. You are gone : By Heaven, I'll fetch you And shall a stranger prince have leave to brag
back. Unto a foreign nation, that he made
Phi. You shall not need. Philaster hide bimself?
Phu. What now? Are. He cannot know it.
Phi. Know, Pharamond, Phi. Though it should sleep for ever to the I loath to brawl with such a blast as thou, world,
Who art nought but a valiant voice : But, if It is a simple sin to hide myself,
Thou shalt provoke me further, men shall say Which will for ever on my conscience lie. “ Thou wert," and not lament it. Are. Then, good Philaster, give him scope and Pha. Do you slight way
My greatness so, and in the chamber of the prinIn what he says; for he is apt to speak
cess? What you are loth to hear : For my sake, do. Phi. It is a place, to which, I must confess, Phi. I will.
I owe a reverence: But were it the church,
Ay, at the altar, there's no place so safe,
Where thou dar’st injure me, but I dare kill thee.
Give not a word, not a word back! Farewell. Writ in my heart.
Erit Philaster. Phi. If I shall have an answer no directlier, Pha. 'Tis an odd fellow, madam : We must
stop Pha. To what would he have answer? Flis mouth with some office, when we are married. Are. To his claim unto the kingdom.
Are. You were best make him your controller. Pha. Sirrah, I forbare you before the king. Pha. I think he would discharge it well. But, Phi. Good sir, do so still: I would not talk madam,
I hope our hearts are knit; and yet, so slow Pha. But now the time is fitter: Do but offer The ceremonies of state are, that 'twill be long To make mention of your right to any kingdom, Before our hands be so. If then you please, Though it be scarce habitable
Being agreed in heart, let us not wait Phi. Good sir, let me go.
For dreaming form, but take a little stolen Pha. And by my sword
Delights, and so foretaste our joys to come. Phi. Peace, Pharamond! If thou
Are. If you dare speak such thoughts, Are. Leave us, Philaster.
I must withdraw in honour. Phi. I have done.
Ereunt at different sides.
I am gone.
Thou wilt remember best those careful friends, Phi. And thou shalt find her honourable, boy, That placed thee in the noblest way of lite. Full of regard unto thy tender youth,
She is a princess I prefer thee to. For thine own modesty; and, for my sake,
Bel. In that small time that I have seen the Apter to give than thou wilt be to ask,
world, Ay, or deserve.
I never knew a man hasty to part Bel. Sir, you did take me up, when I was no With a servant, he thought trusty: I remember, thing;
My father would prefer the boys he kept And only yet am something, by being yours. To greater men than he; but did it not, You trusted me unknown; and that, which you Till they were grown too saucy for himself. were apt
Phi. Why, gentle boy, I find no fault at all To construe a simple innocence in me,
In thy behaviour. Perhaps, might have been craft; the cunning of a Bel. Sir, if I have made boy
A fault of ignorance, instruct my youth: Ilardened in lies and theft: Yet ventured you I shall be willing, if not apt, to learn ; To part my miseries and me; for which
Age and experience will adorn my mind I never can expect to serve a lady
With larger knowledge: And, if I have done That bears more honour in her breast than you. A wilful fault, think me not past all hope Phi. But, boy, it will prefer thee. Thou art For once. · What master holds so strict a hand young,
Over his boy, that he will part with him And bear'st a childish overflowing love
Without one warning ? Let me be corrected, To them, that clap thy cheeks, and speak thee fair. To break my stubbornness, if it be so, But, when thy judgment comes to rule those pas- Rather than turn me off; and I shall mend. sions,
Phi. Thy love doth plead so prettily to stay,
That, trust me, I could weep to part with thee. your grace means growing to fatness; and then Alas! I do not turn thee off; thou knowest your only remedy (upon my knowledge, prince) It is my business, that doth call thee hence; is, in a morning, a cup of neat white-wine, brewed And, when thou art with her, thou dwell'st with with carduus; then fast till supper; about eight
you may eat; use exercise, and keep a sparrowThink so, and 'tis so. And, when time is full, hawk; you can shoot in a tiller: But, of all, your That thou hast well discharged this heavy trust, grace must fly phlebotomy, fresh pork, conger, Laid on so weak a one, I will again
and clarified whey: They are all dallers of the With joy receive thee; as I live, I will.
vital spirits. Nay, weep not, gentle boy! 'Tis more than time Pha. Lady, you talk of nothing all this while. Thou didst attend the princess.
Gal. 'Tis very true, sir; I talk of you. Bel. I am gone.
Pha. This is a crafty wench; I like her wit But since I am to part with you, my lord,
'twill be rare to stir up a leaden appetite. And none knows, whether I shall live to do She's a Danäe, and must be courted in a shower More service for you, take this little prayer; of gold. Madam, look here: All these, and more Heaven bless your loves, your fights, all your de- thansigns !
Gal. What have you there, my lord? Gold ! May sick men, if they have your wish, be well; Now, as I live, 'tis fair gold! You would have And Heaven hate those, you curse, though I be silver for it, to play with the pages: You could one!
[Erit. not have taken me in a worse time; but, if you Phi. The love of boys unto their lords is strange; have present use, my lord, I'll send my man with I have read wonders of it: Yet this boy, silver, and keep your gold for you. For my sake (if a man may judge by looks Pha. Lady, laly! And speech) would out-do story. I may see Gal. She's coming, sir, behind, will take white A day to pay him for his loyalty. [Erit Phi. money. Yet, for all this I'll match you.
[Exit Gal. behind the hangings. Enter PHARAMOND.
Pha. If there be but two such more in this Pha. Why should these ladies stay so long? kingdom, and near the court, we may even hang They must come this way: I know the queen up our harps. employs them not; for the reverend mother sent
Enter MEGRA. me word, they would be all for the garden. If they should all prove honest now, I were in a fair Here's another: If she be of the same last, the taking. Here's one bolted.
devil shall pluck her on. Many fair mornings,
lady. Enter Galatea.
Meg. As many mornings bring as many days, Gal. Your grace!
Fair, sweet, and hopeful to your grace. Pha. Shall I not be a trouble?
Pha. She gives good words yet; Gal. Not to me, sir.
If your more serious business do not call you, Pha. Nay, nay, you are too quick. By this Let me hold quarter with you; we'll talk an hour sweet hand
Out quickly. Gal. You'll be forsworn, sir; 'tis but an old Meg. What would your grace talk of? glove. If you will talk at distance, I am for you: Pha. Of some such pretty subject as yourself. And then, I think, I shall have sense enough to I'll go no further than your eye, or lip; answer all the weighty apothegms your royal | There's theme enough for one man for an age. blood shall manage.
Meg. Sir, they stand right, and my lips are yet Pha. Dear lady, can you love?
even, Gal. Dear, prince! how dear? I ne'er cost Smooth, young enough, ripe enough, red enough, you a coach yet, nor put you to the dear repent- Or my glass wrongs me. ance of a banquet. Here's no scarlet, sír, to Pha. Oh, they are two twinned cherries dyed blush the sin out it was given for. This wire in blushes, mine own hair covers; and this face has been so Which those fair suns above, with their bright far from being dear to any, that it ne'er cost pen beams, ny painting : And, for the rest of my poor ward- Reflect upon and ripen. Sweetest beauty, robe, such as you see, it leaves no hand behind Bow down those branches, that the longing taste it, to make the jealous mercer's wife curse our Of the faint looker-on may meet those blessings, good doings.
And taste and live. Pha. You mistake me, lady.
Meg. Oh, delicate sweet prince! Gal. Lord, I do so: 'Would you, or I, could She that hath snow enough about her heart, help it!
To take the wanton spring of ten such fines off, Pha. Do ladies of this country use to give no May be a nun without probation. Sir, more respect to men of my full being?
You have, in such neat poetry, gathered a kiss, Gal. Full being! I understand you not, unless That if I had but five lines of that number,
I will visit you.
Such pretty begging blanks, I should commend If destiny (to whom we dare not say,
Pha. Do it in prose; you cannot miss it, madam. In lasting leaves (whose smallest characters
Were never altered) yet, this match shall break. Pha. By my life, you shall not.
Where's the boy? But we lose time. Can you love?
Lady. Ilere, madam. Meg. Love you, my lord? How would you
Enter BELLARIO. have me love you? Has your grace seen the courtstar, Galatea}
Are. Sir, you are sad to change your service; Pha. Out upon her! She's as cold of her fa
is't not so? vour as an apoplex : She sailed by but now. Bel. Madam, I have not changed; I wait on you,
Meg. And how do you hold her wit, sir? To do him service.
Are. Thou disclaimest in me. guard cannot hold it, if they were tied to it; she Tell me thy naine. would blow them out of the kingdom. They talk Bel. Bellario. of Jupiter; he is but a squib-cracker to her: Look Are. Thou canst sing, and play? well about you, and you may find a tongue-bolt. Bel. If grief will give me leave, madam, I can. But speak, sweet lady, shall I be freely welcome? Are. Alas! what kind of grief can thy years Meg. Whither?
know? Pha. Make your own conditions, my purse Hadst thou a curst master, when thou went'st to shall seal them; and what you dare imagine you
school? can want, I'll furnish you withal: Give two hours Thou art not capable of other grief. to your thoughts every morning about it. Come, Thy brows and cheeks are smooth as waters bc, I know you are bashful; speak in my car, will When no breath troubles them: Believe me, boy, you be mine? Keep this, and with it me : Soon Care seeks out wrinkled brows and hollow eyes,
And builds himself caves, to abide in them. Meg: My lord, my chamber's most unsafe; but Come, sir, tell me truly, does your lord love me? when 'tis night, I'll find some means to slip into Bel. Love, madam? I know not what it is. your lodging; till when
dre. Canst thou know griet, and never yet Pha. Till when, this, and my heart go with thee! knew'st love? [Exeunt several ways. Thou art deceived, boy. Does he speak of me,
As if he wished ine well? Enter Galatea from behind the hangings. Bel. If it be love,
Gal. Oh, thou pernicious petticoat-prince! are To forget all respect of his own friends, these
your virtues? Well, if I do not lay a train In thinking of your face; if it be love, to blow your sport up, I am no woman: And, To sit cross armed, and sigh away the day, lady Dowsabel, I'll fit you for't.
(Erit. Mingled with starts, crying your name as loud
And hastily as men in the streets do fire;
If it be love, to weep himself away,
When he but hears of any lady dead, Lady. Within, madam.
Or killed, because it might have been your chance; Are. Gave you him gold to buy him cloaths ? If, when he goes to rest (which will not be) Lady. I did.
'Twixt every prayer he says, to name you once, Are. And has he done it?
As others drop a bead; be to be in love, Lady. Yes, madam.
Then, madam, I dare swear he loves you. Are. 'Tis a pretty sad talking boy, is it not? Are. Oh, you're a cunning boy, and taught to lie, Asked you his name?
your lord's credit; but thou know'st a lie, Lady. No, madam.
That bears this sound, is welcomer to me
Than any truth, that says, he loves me not.
Lead the way, boy. Do you attend me too.
[Exeunt. That says, she has done that, you would have wished.
Enter Diox, ClerEMONT, TIRASILINE, Megra, Are. Hast thou discovered?
and GALATEA. Gal. I have. Your prince, brave
Dion. Come, ladies, shall we talk a round? As Pharamond, is disloyal. Are. With whom?
Do walk a mile, women should talk an hour,
Meg. 'Tis all