Is so o'ercharged with dangers like to grow
About my marriage, that these under things
Dare not abide in such a troubled sea.

How look'd he, when he told thee he would come? Lady. Why, well.

Are. And not a little fearful?

Lady. Fear, madam! sure, he knows not what it is.
Are. You all are of his faction; the whole court
Is bold in praise of him: whilst I

May live neglected, and do noble things,
As fools in strife throw gold into the sea,
Drown'd in the doing. But I know he fears.
Lady. Methought his looks hid more of love than fear.
Are. Of love? to whom? to you ?-

Did you deliver those plain words I sent,

With such a winning gesture and quick look,
That you have caught him?

Lady. Madam, I mean to you.

Are. Of love to me? alas! thy ignorance

Lets thee not see the crosses of our births.
Nature, that loves not to be questioned
Why she did this or that, but has her ends,
And knows she does well, never gave the world
Two things so opposite, so contrary,

As he and I am. If a bowl of blood,

Drawn from this arm of mine, would poison thee, A draught of his would cure thee. Of love to me? Lady. Madam, I think I hear him.

Are. Bring him in.

Ye gods, that would not have your dooms withstood,
Whose holy wisdoms at this time it is

To make the passions of a feeble maid
The way unto your justice, I obey.

Enter PHILASTER.

Lady. Here is my lord Philaster.
Are. Oh! 'tis well.

Withdraw yourself.

Phi. Madam, your messenger
Made me believe you

wish'd to speak with me.

Are. 'Tis true, Philaster; but the words are such
I have to say, and do so ill beseem

The mouth of woman, that I wish them said,
And yet am loth to speak them. Have you known,
That I have aught detracted from your worth?
Have I in person wrong'd you? Or have set
My baser instruments to throw disgrace
Upon your virtues?

Phi. Never, madam, you.

Are. Why, then, should you, in such a public place,
Injure a princess, and a scandal lay

Upon my fortunes, famed to be so great;
Calling a great part of my dowry in question?
Phi. Madam, this truth which I shall speak, will be
Foolish: but, for your fair and virtuous self,
I could afford myself to have no right

To anything you wish'd.

Are. Philaster, know,

I must enjoy these kingdoms.

Phi. Madam! Both?

Are. Both, or I die. By fate, I die, Philaster,
If I not calmly may enjoy them both.
Phi. I would do much to save that noble life;
Yet would be loth to have posterity
Find in our stories, that Philaster gave
His right unto a sceptre and a crown,
To save a lady's longing.

Are. Nay then, hear!

I must and will have them, and more

Phi. What more?

Are. Or lose that little life the gods prepared

To trouble this poor piece of earth withal.

Phi. Madam, what more?

Are. Turn, then, away thy face.

Phi. No.

Are. Do.

Phi. I cannot endure it. Turn away my face?

I never yet saw enemy that look'd

So dreadfully, but that I thought myself

As great a basilisk as he; or spake

So horrible, but that I thought my tongue
Bore thunder underneath, as much as his;
Nor beast that I could turn from. Shall I then
Begin to fear sweet sounds? a lady's voice,
Whom I do love? Say, you would have my life;
Why, I will give it you; for 'tis of me

A thing so loath'd, and unto you that ask
Of so poor use, that I shall make no price:
If you entreat, I will unmov'dly hear.

Are. Yet, for my sake, a little bend thy looks.
Phi. I do.

Are. Then know, I must have them, and thee.
Phi. And me?

Are. Thy love; without which all the land
Discover'd yet, will serve me for no use,
But to be buried in.

Phi. Is't possible?

Are. With it, it were too little to bestow

On thee. Now, though thy breath do strike me dead, (Which, know, it may) I have unript my breast. Phi. Madam, you are too full of noble thoughts, To lay a train for this contemnèd life, Which you may have for asking. To suspect Were base, where I deserve no ill. Love you, By all my hopes, I do, above my life: But how this passion should proceed from you So violently, would amaze a man

That would be jealous.

Are. Another soul, into my body shot,

Could not have fill'd me with more strength and spirit,

Than this thy breath. But spend not hasty time,

In seeking how I came thus. 'Tis the gods,

The gods, that make me so; and, sure, our love
Will be the nobler, and the better blest,
In that the secret justice of the gods
Is mingled with it. How shall we devise
To hold intelligence, that our true loves,
On any new occasion, may agree

What path is best to tread ?

Phi. I have a boy,

Sent by the gods, I hope, to this intent,

Not yet seen in the court. Hunting the buck,
I found him sitting by a fountain's side,

Of which he borrowed some to quench his thirst,
And paid the nymph again as much in tears.
A garland lay him by, made by himself,
Of many several flowers, bred in the bay,1
Stuck in that mystic order, that the rareness
Delighted me: but ever when he turn'd
His tender eyes upon 'em, he would weep,
As if he meant to make 'em grow again.
Seeing such pretty helpless innocence
Dwell in his face, I ask'd him all his story.
He told me, that his parents gentle died,
Leaving him to the mercy of the fields,

Which gave him roots; and of the crystal springs,
Which did not stop their courses; and the sun,
Which still, he thank'd him, yielded him his light.
Then took he up his garland, and did shew
What every flower, as country people hold,
Did signify; and how all, ordered thus,
Express'd his grief: and, to my thoughts, did read
The prettiest lecture of his country art

That could be wish'd: so that, methought, I could
Have studied it. I gladly entertain❜d him,
Who was [as] glad to follow; and have got
The trustiest, loving'st, and the gentlest boy,
That ever master kept. Him will I send
To wait on you, and bear our hidden love.2
Are. 'Tis well. No more.

[Re-enter Lady.

1 Bred in the bay.] Of Messina; in which city and its neighbourhood the scenes of the play are laid.

2 It has been thought that this long description of his page, especially by a lover who has just had a declaration made to him by a lady, is one of those instances of misplaced indulgence of the pen, with which our pocts are sometimes too justly chargeable. But I cannot help thinking it an exquisite instance to the contrary, an irrelevancy purposely dwelt upon by the lover, to enable the lady to recover her spirits, by giving to their sudden intercourse an air of perfect comfort and the very privileges of habit.

LOVE LOTH TO PART WITH THE OBJECT OF ITS WORSHIP.

Euphrasia, who for love of Philaster has disguised herself as a boy, and been taken into his service under the name of Bellario, endeavours to avoid becoming page to the Princess Arethusa.

Enter PHILASTER and BELLARIO.

Phi. And thou shalt find her honourable, boy;
Full of regard unto thy tender youth,
For thine own modesty; and for my sake,
Apter to give than thou wilt be to ask;
Aye, or deserve.

Bel. Sir, you did take me up when I was nothing;
And only yet am something, by being yours.

You trusted me unknown; and that which you were apt
To construe a simple innocence in me,

Perhaps might have been craft; the cunning of a boy
Hardened in lies and theft: yet ventured you
To part my miseries and me; for which,

I never can expect to serve a lady

That bears more honour in her breast than you.
Phi. But, boy, it will prefer thee. Thou art young,
And bear'st a childish overflowing love

To them that clap thy cheeks, and speak thee fair:
But when thy judgment comes to rule those passions,
Thou wilt remember best those careful friends,
That placed thee in the noblest way of life.
She is a princess I prefer thee to.

Bel. In that small time that I have seen the world,
I never knew a man hasty to part

With a servant he thought trusty. I remember,
My father would prefer the boys he kept
To greater men than he; but did it not
Till they were grown too saucy for himself.
Phi. Why, gentle boy, I find no fault at all
In thy behaviour.

Bel. Sir, if I have made

A fault of ignorance, instruct my youth:
I shall be willing, if not apt, to learn;
Age and experience will adorn my mind
With larger knowledge: and if I have done