Chapter 3

_Are_. Alas! what kind of grief can thy years know? Hadst thou a curst master, when thou went'st to School? Thou art not capable of other grief; Thy brows and cheeks are smooth as waters be, When no [b]reath troubles them: believe me boy, Care seeks out wrinkled brows, and hollow eyes, And builds himself caves to abide in them. Come Sir, tell me truly, does your Lord love me?

_Bell_. Love Madam? I know not what it is.

_Are_. Canst thou know grief, and never yet knew'st love? Thou art deceiv'd boy; does he speak of me As if he wish'd me well?

_Bell_. If it be love, To forget all respect of his own friends, In thinking of your face; if it be love To sit cross arm'd and sigh away the day, Mingled with starts, crying your name as loud And hastily, as men i'the streets do fire: If it be love to weep himself away, When he but hears of any Lady dead, Or kill'd, because it might have been your chance; If when he goes to rest (which will not be) 'Twixt every prayer he saies, to name you once As others drop a bead, be to be in love; Then Madam, I dare swear he loves you.

_Are_. O y'are a cunning boy, and taught to lie, For your Lords credit; but thou knowest, a lie, That bears this sound, is welcomer to me, Than any truth that saies he loves me not. Lead the way Boy: Do you attend me too; 'Tis thy Lords business hasts me thus; Away.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter _Dion, Cleremont, Thrasilin, Megra _and _Galatea.

_Di_. Come Ladies, shall we talk a round? As men Do walk a mile, women should take an hour After supper: 'Tis their exercise.

_Gal_. Tis late.

_Meg_. 'Tis all My eyes will do to lead me to my bed.

_Gal_. I fear they are so heavy, you'l scarce find The way to your lodging with 'em to night.

[ Enter _Pharamond_.

_Thra_. The Prince.

_Pha_. Not a bed Ladies? y'are good sitters up; What think you of a pleasant dream to last Till morning?

_Meg_. I should choose, my Lord, a pleasing wake before it.

[_Enter _Arethusa _and _Bellario.

_Are_. 'Tis well my Lord y'are courting of Ladies. Is't not late Gentlemen?

_Cle_. Yes Madam.

_Are_. Wait you there. [_Exit _Arethusa.

_Meg_. She's jealous, as I live; look you my Lord, The Princess has a _Hilas_, an _Adonis_.

_Pha_. His form is Angel-like.

_Meg_. Why this is he, must, when you are wed, Sit by your pillow, like young _Apollo_, with His hand and voice, binding your thoughts in sleep; The Princess does provide him for you, and for her self.

_Pha_. I find no musick in these boys.

_Meg_. Nor I. They can do little, and that small they do, They have not wit to hide.

_Di_. Serves he the Princess?

_Thra_. Yes.

_Di_. 'Tis a sweet boy, how brave she keeps him!

_Pha_. Ladies all good rest; I mean to kill a Buck To morrow morning, ere y'ave done your dreams.

_Meg_. All happiness attend your Grace, Gentlemen good rest, Come shall we to bed?

_Gal_. Yes, all good night.

[_Ex_. Gal. _and _Meg.

_Di_. May your dreams be true to you; What shall we do Gallants? 'Tis late, the King Is up still, see, he comes, a Guard along With him.

[_Enter _King, Arethusa _and _Guard.

_King_. Look your intelligence be true.

_Are_. Upon my life it is: and I do hope, Your Highness will not tye me to a man, That in the heat of wooing throws me off, And takes another.

_Di_. What should this mean?

_King_. If it be true, That Lady had been better have embrac'd Cureless Diseases; get you to your rest,

[_Ex_. Are. _and _Bel.

You shall be righted: Gentlemen draw near, We shall imploy you: Is young _Pharamond_ Come to his lodging?

_Di_. I saw him enter there.

_King_. Haste some of you, and cunningly discover, If Megra be in her lodging.

_Cle_. Sir, She parted hence but now with other Ladies.

_King_. If she be there, we shall not need to make A vain discovery of our suspicion. You gods I see, that who unrighteously Holds wealth or state from others, shall be curst, In that, which meaner men are blest withall: Ages to come shall know no male of him Left to inherit, and his name shall be Blotted from earth; If he have any child, It shall be crossly matched: the gods themselves Shall sow wild strife betwixt her Lord and her, Yet, if it be your wills, forgive the sin I have committed, let it not fall Upon this understanding child of mine, She has not broke your Laws; but how can I, Look to be heard of gods, that must be just, Praying upon the ground I hold by wrong?

[ _Enter _Dion.

_Di_. Sir, I have asked, and her women swear she is within, but they I think are bawds; I told 'em I must speak with her: they laught, and said their Lady lay speechless. I said, my business was important; they said their Lady was about it: I grew hot, and cryed my business was a matter that concern'd life and death; they answered, so was sleeping, at which their Lady was; I urg'd again, she had scarce time to be so since last I saw her; they smil'd again, and seem'd to instruct me, that sleeping was nothing but lying down and winking: Answers more direct I could not get: in short Sir, I think she is not there.

_King_. 'Tis then no time to dally: you o'th' Guard, Wait at the back door of the Princes lodging, And see that none pass thence upon your lives. Knock Gentlemen: knock loud: louder yet: What, has their pleasure taken off their hearing? I'le break your meditations: knock again: Not yet? I do not think he sleeps, having this Larum by him; once more, _Pharamond_, Prince.

[Pharamond _above_.

_Pha_. What sawcy groom knocks at this dead of night? Where be our waiters? By my vexed soul, He meets his death, that meets me, for this boldness.

_K_. Prince, you wrong your thoughts, we are your friends, Come down.

_Pha_. The King?

_King_. The same Sir, come down, We have cause of present Counsel with you.

_Pha_. If your Grace please to use me, I'le attend you To your Chamber. [Pha. _below_.

_King_. No, 'tis too late Prince, I'le make bold with yours.

_Pha_. I have some private reasons to my self, Makes me unmannerly, and say you cannot; Nay, press not forward Gentlemen, he must come Through my life, that comes here.

_King_. Sir be resolv'd, I must and will come. Enter.

_Pha_. I will not be dishonour'd; He that enters, enters upon his death; Sir, 'tis a sign you make no stranger of me, To bring these Renegados to my Chamber, At these unseason'd hours.

_King_. Why do you Chafe your self so? you are not wrong'd, nor shall be; Onely I'le search your lodging, for some cause To our self known: Enter I say.

_Pha_. I say no. [_Meg. Above_.

_Meg_. Let 'em enter Prince, Let 'em enter, I am up, and ready; I know their business, 'Tis the poor breaking of a Ladies honour, They hunt so hotly after; let 'em enjoy it. You have your business Gentlemen, I lay here. O my Lord the King, this is not noble in you To make publick the weakness of a Woman.

_King_. Come down.

_Meg_. I dare my Lord; your whootings and your clamors, Your private whispers, and your broad fleerings, Can no more vex my soul, than this base carriage; But I have vengeance yet in store for some, Shall in the most contempt you can have of me, Be joy and nourishment.

_King_. Will you come down?

_Meg_. Yes, to laugh at your worst: but I shall wrong you, If my skill fail me not.

_King_. Sir, I must dearly chide you for this looseness, You have wrong'd a worthy Lady; but no more, Conduct him to my lodging, and to bed.

_Cle_. Get him another wench, and you bring him to bed in deed.

_Di_. 'Tis strange a man cannot ride a Stagg Or two, to breath himself, without a warrant: If this geer hold, that lodgings be search'd thus, Pray heaven we may lie with our own wives in safety, That they be not by some trick of State mistaken.

[ _Enter with_ Megra.

_King_. Now Lady of honour, where's your honour now? No man can fit your palat, but the Prince. Thou most ill shrowded rottenness; thou piece Made by a Painter and a Pothecary; Thou troubled sea of lust; thou wilderness, Inhabited by wild thoughts; thou swoln cloud Of Infection; them ripe Mine of all Diseases; Thou all Sin, all Hell, and last, all Devils, tell me, Had you none to pull on with your courtesies, But he that must be mine, and wrong my Daughter? By all the gods, all these, and all the Pages, And all the Court shall hoot thee through the Court, Fling rotten Oranges, make ribald Rimes, And sear thy name with Candles upon walls: Do you laugh Lady _Venus_?

_Meg_. Faith Sir, you must pardon me; I cannot chuse but laugh to see you merry. If you do this, O King; nay, if you dare do it; By all these gods you swore by, and as many More of my own; I will have fellows, and such Fellows in it, as shall make noble mirth; The Princess, your dear Daughter, shall stand by me On walls, and sung in ballads, any thing: Urge me no more, I know her, and her haunts, Her layes, leaps, and outlayes, and will discover all; Nay will dishonour her. I know the boy She keeps, a handsome boy; about eighteen: Know what she does with him, where, and when. Come Sir, you put me to a womans madness, The glory of a fury; and if I do not Do it to the height?

_King_. What boy is this she raves at?

_Meg_. Alas! good minded Prince, you know not these things? I am loth to reveal 'em. Keep this fault As you would keep your health from the hot air Of the corrupted people, or by heaven, I will not fall alone: what I have known, Shall be as publick as a print: all tongues Shall speak it as they do the language they Are born in, as free and commonly; I'le set it Like a prodigious star for all to gaze at, And so high and glowing, that other Kingdoms far and Forreign Shall read it there, nay travel with it, till they find No tongue to make it more, nor no more people; And then behold the fall of your fair Princess.

_King_. Has she a boy?

_Cle_. So please your Grace I have seen a boy wait On her, a fair boy.

_King_. Go get you to your quarter: For this time I'le study to forget you.

_Meg_. Do you study to forget me, and I'le study To forget you.

[_Ex_. King, Meg. _and_ Guard.

_Cle_. Why here's a Male spirit for _Hercules_, if ever there be nine worthies of women, this wench shall ride astride, and be their Captain.

_Di_. Sure she hath a garrison of Devils in her tongue, she uttereth such balls of wild-fire. She has so netled the King, that all the Doctors in the Country will scarce cure him. That boy was a strange found out antidote to cure her infection: that boy, that Princess boy: that brave, chast, vertuous Ladies boy: and a fair boy, a well spoken boy: All these considered, can make nothing else--but there I leave you Gentlemen.

_Thra_. Nay we'l go wander with you.

[_Exeunt_.

_Actus Tertius. Scena Prima_.

_Enter _Cle. Di. _and _Thra.

_Cle_. Nay doubtless 'tis true.

_Di_. I, and 'tis the gods That rais'd this Punishment to scourge the King With his own issue: Is it not a shame For us, that should write noble in the land; For us, that should be freemen, to behold A man, that is the bravery of his age, _Philaster_, prest down from his Royal right, By this regardless King; and only look, And see the Scepter ready to be cast Into the hands of that lascivious Lady, That lives in lust with a smooth boy, now to be Married to yon strange Prince, who, but that people Please to let him be a Prince, is born a slave, In that which should be his most noble part, His mind?

_Thra_. That man that would not stir with you, To aid _Philaster_, let the gods forget, That such a Creature walks upon the earth.

_Cle_. _Philaster_ is too backward in't himself; The Gentry do await it, and the people Against their nature are all bent for him, And like a field of standing Corn, that's mov'd With a stiff gale, their heads bow all one way.

_Di_. The only cause that draws _Philaster_ back From this attempt, is the fair Princess love, Which he admires and we can now confute.

_Thra_. Perhaps he'l not believe it.

_Di_. Why Gentlemen, 'tis without question so.

_Cle_. I 'tis past speech, she lives dishonestly. But how shall we, if he be curious, work Upon his faith?

_Thra_. We all are satisfied within our selves.

_Di_. Since it is true, and tends to his own good, I'le make this new report to be my knowledge, I'le say I know it, nay, I'le swear I saw it.

_Cle_. It will be best.

_Thra_. 'Twill move him.

[ _Enter_ Philaster.

_Di_. Here he comes. Good morrow to your honour, We have spent some time in seeking you.

_Phi_. My worthy friends, You that can keep your memories to know Your friend in miseries, and cannot frown On men disgrac'd for vertue: A good day Attend you all. What service may I do worthy your acceptation?

_Di_. My good Lord, We come to urge that vertue which we know Lives in your breast, forth, rise, and make a head, The Nobles, and the people are all dull'd With this usurping King: and not a man That ever heard the word, or knew such a thing As vertue, but will second your attempts.

_Phi_. How honourable is this love in you To me that have deserv'd none? Know my friends (You that were born to shame your poor _Philaster_, With too much courtesie) I could afford To melt my self in thanks; but my designs Are not yet ripe, suffice it, that ere long I shall imploy your loves: but yet the time is short of what I would.

_Di_. The time is fuller Sir, than you expect; That which hereafter will not perhaps be reach'd By violence, may now be caught; As for the King, You know the people have long hated him; But now the Princess, whom they lov'd.

_Phi_. Why, what of her?

_Di_. Is loath'd as much as he.

_Phi_. By what strange means?

_Di_. She's known a Whore.

_Phi_. Thou lyest.

_Di_. My Lord--

_Phi_. Thou lyest,

[_Offers to draw and is held_.

And thou shalt feel it; I had thought thy mind Had been of honour; thus to rob a Lady Of her good name, is an infectious sin, Not to be pardon'd; be it false as hell, 'Twill never be redeem'd, if it be sown Amongst the people, fruitful to increase All evil they shall hear. Let me alone, That I may cut off falshood, whilst it springs. Set hills on hills betwixt me and the man That utters this, and I will scale them all, And from the utmost top fall on his neck, Like Thunder from a Cloud.

_Di_. This is most strange; Sure he does love her.

_Phi_. I do love fair truth: She is my Mistress, and who injures her, Draws vengeance from me Sirs, let go my arms.

_Thra_. Nay, good my Lord be patient.

_Cle_. Sir, remember this is your honour'd friend, That comes to do his service, and will shew you Why he utter'd this.

_Phi_. I ask you pardon Sir, My zeal to truth made me unmannerly: Should I have heard dishonour spoke of you, Behind your back untruly, I had been As much distemper'd, and enrag'd as now.

_Di_. But this my Lord is truth.

_Phi_. O say not so, good Sir forbear to say so, 'Tis the truth that all womenkind is false; Urge it no more, it is impossible; Why should you think the Princess light?

_Di_. Why, she was taken at it.

_Phi_. 'Tis false, O Heaven 'tis false: it cannot be, Can it? Speak Gentlemen, for love of truth speak; Is't possible? can women all be damn'd?

_Di_. Why no, my Lord.

_Phi_. Why then it cannot be.

_Di_. And she was taken with her boy.

_Phi_. What boy?

_Di_. A Page, a boy that serves her.

_Phi_. Oh good gods, a little boy?

_Di_. I, know you him my Lord?

_Phi_. Hell and sin know him? Sir, you are deceiv'd; I'le reason it a little coldly with you; If she were lustful, would she take a boy, That knows not yet desire? she would have one Should meet her thoughts and knows the sin he acts, Which is the great delight of wickedness; You are abus'd, and so is she, and I.

_Di_. How you my Lord?

_Phi_. Why all the world's abus'd In an unjust report.

_Di_. Oh noble Sir your vertues Cannot look into the subtil thoughts of woman. In short my Lord, I took them: I my self.

_Phi_. Now all the Devils thou didst flie from my rage, Would thou hadst ta'ne devils ingendring plagues: When thou didst take them, hide thee from my eyes, Would thou hadst taken Thunder on thy breast, When thou didst take them, or been strucken dumb For ever: that this foul deed might have slept in silence.

_Thra_. Have you known him so ill temper'd?

_Cle_. Never before.

_Phi_. The winds that are let loose, From the four several corners of the earth, And spread themselves all over sea and land, Kiss not a chaste one. What friend bears a sword To run me through?

_Di_. Why, my Lord, are you so mov'd at this?

_Phi_. When any falls from vertue I am distract, I have an interest in't.

_Di_. But good my Lord recal your self, And think what's best to be done.

_Phi_. I thank you. I will do it; Please you to leave me, I'le consider of it: Tomorrow I will find your lodging forth, And give you answer The readiest way.

_Di_. All the gods direct you.

_Thra_. He was extream impatient.

_Cle_. It was his vertue and his noble mind.

[_Exeunt_ Di. Cle. _and_ Thra.

_Phi_. I had forgot to ask him where he took them, I'le follow him. O that I had a sea Within my breast, to quench the fire I feel; More circumstances will but fan this fire; It more afflicts me now, to know by whom This deed is done, than simply that 'tis done: And he that tells me this is honourable, As far from lies, as she is far from truth. O that like beasts, we could not grieve our selves, With that we see not; Bulls and Rams will fight, To keep their Females standing in their sight; But take 'em from them, and you take at once Their spleens away; and they will fall again Unto their Pastures, growing fresh and fat, And taste the waters of the springs as sweet, As 'twas before, finding no start in sleep. But miserable man; See, see you gods,

[_Enter_ Bellario.

He walks still; and the face you let him wear When he was innocent, is still the same, Not blasted; is this justice? Do you mean To intrap mortality, that you allow Treason so smooth a brow? I cannot now Think he is guilty.

_Bell_. Health to you my Lord; The Princess doth commend her love, her life, And this unto you.

_Phi_. Oh _Bellario_, Now I perceive she loves me, she does shew it In loving thee my boy, she has made thee brave.

_Bell_. My Lord she has attired me past my wish, Past my desert, more fit for her attendant, Though far unfit for me, who do attend.