Chapter 4

_Phi_. Thou art grown courtly boy. O let all women That love black deeds, learn to dissemble here, Here, by this paper she does write to me, As if her heart were Mines of Adamant To all the world besides, but unto me, A maiden snow that melted with my looks. Tell me my boy how doth the Princess use thee? For I shall guess her love to me by that.

_Bell_. Scarce like her servant, but as if I were Something allied to her; or had preserv'd Her life three times by my fidelity. As mothers fond do use their only sons; As I'de use one, that's left unto my trust, For whom my life should pay, if he met harm, So she does use me.

_Phi_. Why, this is wondrous well: But what kind language does she feed thee with?

_Bell_. Why, she does tell me, she will trust my youth With all her loving secrets; and does call me Her pretty servant, bids me weep no more For leaving you: shee'l see my services Regarded; and such words of that soft strain, That I am nearer weeping when she ends Than ere she spake.

_Phi_. This is much better still.

_Bell_. Are you ill my Lord?

_Phi_. Ill? No _Bellario_.

_Bell_. Me thinks your words Fall not from off your tongue so evenly, Nor is there in your looks that quietness, That I was wont to see.

_Phi_. Thou art deceiv'd boy: And she stroakes thy head?

_Bell_. Yes.

_Phi_. And she does clap thy cheeks?

_Bell_. She does my Lord.

_Phi_. And she does kiss thee boy? ha!

_Bell_. How my Lord?

_Phi_. She kisses thee?

_Bell_. Not so my Lord.

_Phi_. Come, come, I know she does.

_Bell_. No by my life.

_Phi_. Why then she does not love me; come, she does, I had her do it; I charg'd her by all charms Of love between us, by the hope of peace We should enjoy, to yield thee all delights Naked, as to her bed: I took her oath Thou should'st enjoy her: Tell me gentle boy, Is she not paralleless? Is not her breath Sweet as _Arabian_ winds, when fruits are ripe? Are not her breasts two liquid Ivory balls? Is she not all a lasting Mine of joy?

_Bell_. I, now I see why my disturbed thoughts Were so perplext. When first I went to her, My heart held augury; you are abus'd, Some villain has abus'd you; I do see Whereto you tend; fall Rocks upon his head, That put this to you; 'tis some subtil train, To bring that noble frame of yours to nought.

_Phi_. Thou think'st I will be angry with thee; Come Thou shalt know all my drift, I hate her more, Than I love happiness, and plac'd thee there, To pry with narrow eyes into her deeds; Hast thou discover'd? Is she fain to lust, As I would wish her? Speak some comfort to me.

_Bell_. My Lord, you did mistake the boy you sent: Had she the lust of Sparrows, or of Goats; Had she a sin that way, hid from the world, Beyond the name of lust, I would not aid Her base desires; but what I came to know As servant to her, I would not reveal, to make my life last ages.

_Phi_. Oh my heart; this is a salve worse than the main disease. Tell me thy thoughts; for I will know the least That dwells within thee, or will rip thy heart To know it; I will see thy thoughts as plain, As I do know thy face.

_Bell_. Why, so you do. She is (for ought I know) by all the gods, As chaste as Ice; but were she foul as Hell And I did know it, thus; the breath of Kings, The points of Swords, Tortures nor Bulls of Brass, Should draw it from me.

_Phi_. Then 'tis no time to dally with thee; I will take thy life, for I do hate thee; I could curse thee now.

_Bell_. If you do hate you could not curse me worse; The gods have not a punishment in store Greater for me, than is your hate.

_Phi_. Fie, fie, so young and so dissembling; Tell me when and where thou di[d]st enjoy her, Or let plagues fall on me, if I destroy thee not.

_Bell_. Heaven knows I never did: and when I lie To save my life, may I live long and loath'd. Hew me asunder, and whilst I can think I'le love those pieces you have cut away, Better than those that grow: and kiss these limbs, Because you made 'em so.

_Phi_. Fearest thou not death? Can boys contemn that?

_Bell_. Oh, what boy is he Can be content to live to be a man That sees the best of men thus passionate, thus without reason?

_Phi_. Oh, but thou dost not know what 'tis to die.

_Bell_. Yes, I do know my Lord; 'Tis less than to be born; a lasting sleep, A quiet resting from all jealousie; A thing we all pursue; I know besides, It is but giving over of a game that must be lost.

_Phi_. But there are pains, false boy, For perjur'd souls; think but on these, and then Thy heart will melt, and thou wilt utter all.

_Bell_. May they fall all upon me whilst I live, If I be perjur'd, or have ever thought Of that you charge me with; if I be false, Send me to suffer in those punishments you speak of; kill me.

_Phi_. Oh, what should I do? Why, who can but believe him? He does swear So earnestly, that if it were not true, The gods would not endure him. Rise _Bellario_, Thy protestations are so deep; and thou Dost look so truly, when thou utterest them, That though I [know] 'em false, as were my hopes, I cannot urge thee further; but thou wert To blame to injure me, for I must love Thy honest looks, and take no revenge upon Thy tender youth; A love from me to thee Is firm, what ere thou dost: It troubles me That I have call'd the blood out of thy cheeks, That did so well become thee: but good boy Let me not see thee more; something is done, That will distract me, that will make me mad, If I behold thee: if thou tender'st me, Let me not see thee.

_Bell_. I will fly as far As there is morning, ere I give distaste To that most honour'd mind. But through these tears Shed at my hopeless parting, I can see A world of Treason practis'd upon you, And her and me. Farewel for evermore; If you shall hear, that sorrow struck me dead, And after find me Loyal, let there be A tear shed from you in my memorie, And I shall rest at peace.

[_Exit_ Bel.

_Phi_. Blessing be with thee, What ever thou deserv'st. Oh, where shall I Go bath thy body? Nature too unkind, That made no medicine for a troubled mind!

[_Exit_. Phi.

_Enter_ Arethuse.

_Are_. I marvel my boy comes not back again; But that I know my love will question him Over and over; how I slept, wak'd, talk'd; How I remembred him when his dear name Was last spoke, and how, when I sigh'd, wept, sung, And ten thousand such; I should be angry at his stay.

[_Enter _King.

_King_. What are your meditations? who attends you?

_Are_. None but my single self, I need no Guard, I do no wrong, nor fear none.

_King_. Tell me: have you not a boy?

_Are_. Yes Sir.

_King_. What kind of boy?

_Are_. A Page, a waiting boy.

_King_. A handsome boy?

_Are_. I think he be not ugly: Well qualified, and dutiful, I know him, I took him not for beauty.

_King_. He speaks, and sings and plays?

_Are_. Yes Sir.

_King_. About Eighteen?

_Are_. I never ask'd his age.

_King_. Is he full of service?

_Are_. By your pardon why do you ask?

_King_. Put him away.

_Are_. Sir?

_King_. Put him away, h'as done you that good service, Shames me to speak of.

_Are_. Good Sir let me understand you.

_King_. If you fear me, shew it in duty; put away that boy.

_Are_. Let me have reason for it Sir, and then Your will is my command.

_King_. Do not you blush to ask it? Cast him off, Or I shall do the same to you. Y'are one Shame with me, and so near unto my self, That by my life, I dare not tell my self, What you, my self have done.

_Are_. What have I done my Lord?

_King_. 'Tis a new language, that all love to learn, The common people speak it well already, They need no Grammer; understand me well, There be foul whispers stirring; cast him off! And suddenly do it: Farewel.

[_Exit_ King.

_Are_. Where may a Maiden live securely free, Keeping her Honour safe? Not with the living, They feed upon opinions, errours, dreams, And make 'em truths: they draw a nourishment Out of defamings, grow upon disgraces, And when they see a vertue fortified Strongly above the battery of their tongues; Oh, how they cast to sink it; and defeated (Soul sick with Poyson) strike the Monuments Where noble names lie sleeping: till they sweat, And the cold Marble melt.

_Enter_ Philaster.

_Phi_. Peace to your fairest thoughts, dearest Mistress.

_Are_. Oh, my dearest servant I have a War within me.

_Phi_. He must be more than man, that makes these Crystals Run into Rivers; sweetest fair, the cause; And as I am your slave, tied to your goodness, Your creature made again from what I was, And newly spirited, I'le right your honours.

_Are_. Oh, my best love; that boy!

_Phi_. What boy?

_Are_. The pretty boy you gave me.

_Phi_. What of him?

_Are_. Must be no more mine.

_Phi_. Why?

_Are_. They are jealous of him.

_Phi_. Jealous, who?

_Are_. The King.

_Phi_. Oh, my fortune, Then 'tis no idle jealousie. Let him go.

_Are_. Oh cruel, are you hard hearted too? Who shall now tell you, how much I lov'd you; Who shall swear it to you, and weep the tears I send? Who shall now bring you Letters, Rings, Bracelets, Lose his health in service? wake tedious nights In stories of your praise? Who shall sing Your crying Elegies? And strike a sad soul Into senseless Pictures, and make them mourn? Who shall take up his Lute, and touch it, till He crown a silent sleep upon my eye-lid, Making me dream and cry, Oh my dear, dear _Philaster_.

_Phi_. Oh my heart! Would he had broken thee, that made thee know This Lady was not Loyal. Mistress, forget The boy, I'le get thee a far better.

_Are_. Oh never, never such a boy again, as my _Bellario_.

_Phi_. 'Tis but your fond affection.

_Are_. With thee my boy, farewel for ever, All secrecy in servants: farewel faith, And all desire to do well for it self: Let all that shall succeed thee, for thy wrongs, Sell and betray chast love.

_Phi_. And all this passion for a boy?

_Are_. He was your boy, and you put him to me, And the loss of such must have a mourning for.

_Phi_. O thou forgetful woman!

_Are_. How, my Lord?

_Phi_. False _Arethusa_! Hast thou a Medicine to restore my wits, When I have lost 'em? If not, leave to talk, and do thus.

_Are_. Do what Sir? would you sleep?

_Phi_. For ever _Arethusa_. Oh you gods, Give me a worthy patience; Have I stood Naked, alone the shock of many fortunes? Have I seen mischiefs numberless, and mighty Grow li[k]e a sea upon me? Have I taken Danger as stern as death into my bosom, And laught upon it, made it but a mirth, And flung it by? Do I live now like him, Under this Tyrant King, that languishing Hears his sad Bell, and sees his Mourners? Do I Bear all this bravely, and must sink at length Under a womans falshood? Oh that boy, That cursed boy? None but a villain boy, to ease your lust?

_Are_. Nay, then I am betray'd, I feel the plot cast for my overthrow; Oh I am wretched.

_Phi_. Now you may take that little right I have To this poor Kingdom; give it to your Joy, For I have no joy in it. Some far place, Where never womankind durst set her foot, For bursting with her poisons, must I seek, And live to curse you; There dig a Cave, and preach to birds and beasts, What woman is, and help to save them from you. How heaven is in your eyes, but in your hearts, More hell than hell has; how your tongues like Scorpions, Both heal and poyson; how your thoughts are woven With thousand changes in one subtle webb, And worn so by you. How that foolish man, That reads the story of a womans face, And dies believing it, is lost for ever. How all the good you have, is but a shadow, I'th' morning with you, and at night behind you, Past and forgotten. How your vows are frosts, Fast for a night, and with the next sun gone. How you are, being taken all together, A meer confusion, and so dead a _Chaos_, That love cannot distinguish. These sad Texts Till my last hour, I am bound to utter of you. So farewel all my wo, all my delight.

[_Exit_ Phi.

_Are_. Be merciful ye gods and strike me dead; What way have I deserv'd this? make my breast Transparent as pure Crystal, that the world Jealous of me, may see the foulest thought My heart holds. Where shall a woman turn her eyes, To find out constancy? Save me, how black,

[_Enter_ Bell.

And guilty (me thinks) that boy looks now? Oh thou dissembler, that before thou spak'st Wert in thy cradle false? sent to make lies, And betray Innocents; thy Lord and thou, May glory in the ashes of a Maid Fool'd by her passion; but the conquest is Nothing so great as wicked. Fly away, Let my command force thee to that, which shame Would do without it. If thou understoodst The loathed Office thou hast undergone, Why, thou wouldst hide thee under heaps of hills, Lest men should dig and find thee.

_Bell_. Oh what God Angry with men, hath sent this strange disease Into the noblest minds? Madam this grief You add unto me is no more than drops To seas, for which they are not seen to swell; My Lord had struck his anger through my heart, And let out all the hope of future joyes, You need not bid me fly, I came to part, To take my latest leave, Farewel for ever; I durst not run away in honesty, From such a Lady, like a boy that stole, Or made some grievous fault; the power of gods Assist you in your sufferings; hasty time Reveal the truth to your abused Lord, And mine: That he may know your worth: whilst I Go seek out some forgotten place to die.

[_Exit_ Bell.

_Are_. Peace guide thee, th'ast overthrown me once, Yet if I had another _Troy_ to lose, Thou or another villain with thy looks, Might talk me out of it, and send me naked, My hair dishevel'd through the fiery streets.

[ _Enter a_ Lady

_La_. Madam, the King would hunt, and calls for you With earnestness.

_Are_. I am in tune to hunt! _Diana_ if thou canst rage with a maid, As with a man, let me discover thee Bathing, and turn me to a fearful Hind, That I may die pursu'd by cruel Hounds, And have my story written in my wounds.

[_Exeunt_.

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima_.

_Enter_ King, Pharamond, Arethusa, Galatea, Megra, Dion, Cleremont, Thrasilin, _and Attendants_.

_K_. What, are the Hounds before, and all the woodmen? Our horses ready, and our bows bent?

_Di_. All Sir.

_King_. Y'are cloudy Sir, come we have forgotten Your venial trespass, let not that sit heavy Upon your spirit; none dare utter it.

_Di_. He looks like an old surfeited Stallion after his leaping, dull as a Dormouse: see how he sinks; the wench has shot him between wind and water, and I hope sprung a leak.

_Thra_. He needs no teaching, he strikes sure enough; his greatest fault is, he Hunts too much in the Purlues, would he would leave off Poaching.

_Di_. And for his horn, has left it at the Lodge where he lay late; Oh, he's a precious Lime-hound; turn him loose upon the pursuit of a Lady, and if he lose her, hang him up i'th' slip. When my Fox-bitch Beauty grows proud, I'le borrow him.

_King_. Is your Boy turn'd away?

_Are_. You did command Sir, and I obey you.

_King_. 'Tis well done: Hark ye further.

_Cle_. Is't possible this fellow should repent? Me thinks that were not noble in him: and yet he looks like a mortified member, as if he had a sick mans Salve in's mouth. If a worse man had done this fault now, some Physical Justice or other, would presently (without the help of an Almanack) have opened the obstructions of his Liver, and let him bloud with a Dog-whip.

_Di_. See, see, how modestly your Lady looks, as if she came from Churching with her Neighbour; why, what a Devil can a man see in her face, but that she's honest?

_Pha_. Troth no great matter to speak of, a foolish twinkling with the eye, that spoils her Coat; but he must be a cunning Herald that finds it.

_Di_. See how they Muster one another! O there's a Rank Regiment where the Devil carries the Colours, and his Dam Drum major, now the world and the flesh come behind with the Carriage.

_Cle_. Sure this Lady has a good turn done her against her will: before she was common talk, now none dare say, Cantharides can stir her, her face looks like a Warrant, willing and commanding all Tongues, as they will answer it, to be tied up and bolted when this Lady means to let her self loose. As I live she has got her a goodly protection, and a gracious; and may use her body discreetly, for her healths sake, once a week, excepting Lent and Dog-days: Oh if they were to be got for mony, what a great sum would come out of the City for these Licences?

_King_. To horse, to horse, we lose the morning, Gentlemen.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter two_ Woodmen.

_1 Wood_.What, have you lodged the Deer?

_2 Wood_. Yes, they are ready for the Bow.

_1 Wood_. Who shoots?

_2 Wood_. The Princess.

_1 Wood_. No she'l Hunt.

_2 Wood_. She'l take a Stand I say.

_1 Wood_. Who else?

_2 Wood_. Why the young stranger Prince.

_1 Wood_. He shall Shoot in a Stone-bow for me. I never lov'd his beyond-sea-ship, since he forsook the Say, for paying Ten shillings: he was there at the fall of a Deer, and would needs (out of his mightiness) give Ten groats for the Dowcers; marry the Steward would have had the Velvet-head into the bargain, to Turf his Hat withal: I think he should love Venery, he is an old Sir _Tristram_; for if you be remembred, he forsook the Stagg once, to strike a Rascal Milking in a Medow, and her he kill'd in the eye. Who shoots else?

_2 Wood_. The Lady _Galatea_.

_1 Wood_. That's a good wench, and she would not chide us for tumbling of her women in the Brakes. She's liberal, and by my Bow they say she's honest, and whether that be a fault, I have nothing to do. There's all?

_2 Wood_. No, one more, _Megra_.

_1 Wood_. That's a firker I'faith boy; there's a wench will Ride her Haunces as hard after a Kennel of Hounds, as a Hunting-saddle; and when she comes home, get 'em clapt, and all is well again. I have known her lose her self three times in one Afternoon (if the Woods had been answerable) and it has been work enough for one man to find her, and he has sweat for it. She Rides well, and she payes well. Hark, let's go.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ Philaster.