A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 14
ACT I., SCENE 1.
_Enter_ NICETES _and_ ARAMNES.
NIC. I have observ'd it too; but the cause is As unknown to me as actions done In countries not found out yet.
ARA. Some wench, my life to a brass farthing!
NIC. As like as may be: We soldiers are all given that way; especially, When our blood boils high, and [our] pulses beat Alarms to Cupid's battles; we are apter To sally on a young [in]flaming girl, Than on an enemy that braves it Before our trenches.
ARA. I ask it not to know his privacies; for if His freedom doth not acquaint me with them, Let them be secret still: yet I could wish An opportunity to tell him A little circumspection would Be handsome, and set a gloss upon all. Times might be chosen of less public notice: It looks so poorly in a prince to be Thus careless of his own affairs: men do So talk on it. Here comes Inophilus; If anybody knows, it must be he.
_Enter_ INOPHILUS.
INO. Your servant, captains. Saw you the prince to-day?
NIC. Not we: we hop'd to hear of him from you.
INO. 'Tis strange a man, adorn'd with so much wisdom, Should on the sudden fall off from the care Of his own fame! I am his friend, and so, I know, are you; but to speak plainly to you, He's grown my wonder now as much As other men's. I, that have found a sweetness In his company beyond whatever Lovers dream of in a mistress, that as He spoke, methought have smell'd the air perfum'd; Nor could have wished a joy greater Than living with him, next those of heaven; And those preferr'd the more, because I knew Plangus would be there. I say, even I of late am grown out of love With anything that's mortal; since I've found Plangus so far beneath (I will not say My expectations) but the assurances All good men had of future gallantry. He's melancholy now, and hath thrown off The spirit which so well became him; and all That sweetness which bewitch'd men's hearts is grown So rugged, so incompos'd to all commerce, Men fear he'll shortly quarrel with himself. Nay more, he doth not answer the fondness Of his father's love with half that joy He us'd to do.
ARA. 'Tis now about a week I have observ'd This alteration; it shakes him, like an ague, Once in two days, but holds him longer Than a fit o' th' gout. They whisper about the court As if the king had chid him for it, And now at length [had] found his haunts----
INO. A poor discovery! Who might not find 'em out, That would be so uncivil? I was about To follow him, but thought it an ignoble way, Beneath the name of friendship, and so desisted. About four days ago, meeting him i' th' long gallery, I ask'd him how he did? Taking me by the hand, He wrung it, and after a sigh or two, told me, "Not very well, but he had business"--and so we parted. I saw him not again in twenty hours after; And then I ask'd him where he'd been so long? He told me (as if he was ashamed To deny me such a poor request) I must not know: And when I told him his often absence was observ'd, Is it? (saith he) I cannot help it; but it shall No more be so; and at the last he stole away: Since when I saw him not.
NIC. O this wicked peace! Inophilus, Is there no hopes of war? To lie at home to see our armours rust; We could keep the prince sober and merry too, If he would but exchange his court for a camp.
INO. The king is old, and doats upon his son; Is loth to venture him to danger: Yet at this time there is occasion. The Argives have refus'd to pay their tribute, And are for certain preparing for invasion: Some say they have got into Iberia already.
ARA. Nay, then there's hopes; If we could but find the prince with a buff-coat again, I should be once more merry.
[_Exeunt._