Which
I must keep though it hath pleas'd your fury
To mutiny within
you; without disputing
Your Genealogies,
or taking knowledge
Whose branch you
are. The King will leave it me;
And I dare make it
mine; you have your answer.
Phi.
If thou wert sole inheritor to him,
That made the world
his; and couldst see no sun
Shine upon any but
thine: were Pharamond
As truly valiant,
as I feel him cold,
And ring'd among
the choicest of his friends,
Such as would blush
to talk such serious follies,
Or back such bellied
commendations,
And from this present,
spight of all these bugs,
You should hear further
from me.
King.
Sir, you wrong the Prince:
I gave you not this
freedom to brave our best friends,
You deserve our frown:
go to, be better temper'd.
Phi.
It must be Sir, when I am nobler us'd.
Gal.
Ladyes,
This would have been
a pattern of succession,
Had he ne're met
this mischief. By my life,
He is the worthiest
the true name of man
This day within my
knowledge.
Meg.
I cannot tell what you may call your knowledge,
But the other is
the man set in mine eye;
Oh! 'tis a Prince
of wax. Gal.
A Dog it is.
King.
Philaster, tell me,
The injuries you
aim at in your riddles.
Phi.
If you had my eyes Sir, and sufferance,
My griefs upon you
and my broken fortunes,
My want's great,
and now nought but hopes and fears,
My wrongs would make
ill riddles to be laught at.
Dare you be still
my King and right me not?
King.
Give me your wrong in private? [They
whisper.
Phi.
Take them, and ease me of a load would bow strong
Cle.
He dares not stand the shock. [Atlas.
Di.
I cannot blame him, there's danger in't. Every man
in this age, has
not a soul of Crystal for all men to read
their actions through:
mens hearts and faces are so far asun-
der, that they hold
no intelligence. Do but view yon stran
ger well, and you
shall see a Feaver through all his bravery,
and feel him shake
like a true Tenant; if he give not back
his Crown again,
upon the report of an Elder Gun, I have
no augury.
King. Go to:
Be more your self,
as you respect our favour:
You'l stir us else:
Sir, I must have you know
That y'are and shall
be at our pleasure, what fashion we
Will put upon you:
smooth your brow, or by the gods.
Phi.
I am dead Sir, y'are my fate: it was not I
Said I was wrong'd:
I carry all about me,
My weak stars led
me to all my weak fortunes.
Who dares in all
this presence speak (that is
But man of flesh
and may be mortal) tell me
I do not most intirely
love this Prince,
And honour his full
vertues! King.
Sure he's possest.
Phi.
Yes, with my Fathers spirit: It's here O King!
A dangerous spirit;
now he tells me King,
I was a Kings heir,
bids me be a King,
And whispers to me,
these be all my Subjects.
'Tis strange, he
will not let me sleep, but dives
Into my fancy, and
there gives me shapes
That kneel, and do
me service, cry me King:
But I'le suppress
him, he's a factious spirit,
And will undo me:
noble Sir, Your hand, I am your servant.
King.
Away, I do not like this:
I'le make you tamer,
or I'le dispossess you
Both of life and
spirit: For this time
I pardon your wild
speech, without so much
As your imprisonment. [Ex.
King, Pha. and Are.
Di.
I thank you Sir, you dare not for the people.
Gal.
Ladies, what think you now of this brave fellow?
Meg.
A pretty talking fellow, hot at hand; but eye yon
stranger, is not
he a fine compleat Gentleman? O these
strangers, I do affect
them strangely: they do the rarest home |
things,
and please the fullest! as I live, could love all the
Nation over and over
for his sake,
Gal.
Pride comfort your poor head-piece Lady: 'tis a
weak one, and had
need of a Night-cap.
Di.
See how his fancy labours, has he not spoke
Home, and bravely?
what a dangerous train
Did he give fire
to! How he shook the King,
Made his soul melt
within him, and his blood
Run into whay! it
stood upon his brow,
Like a cold winter
dew. Phi. Gentlemen,
You have no suit
to me? I am no minion:
You stand (methinks)
like men that would be Courtiers,
If you could well
be flatter'd at a price,
Not to undo your
Children: y'are all honest:
Go get you home again,
and make your Country
A vertuous Court,
to which your great ones may,
In their Diseased
age, retire, and live recluse.
Cle.
How do you worthy Sir? Phi.
Well, very well;
And so well, that
if the King please, I find
I may live many years.
Di.
The King must please,
Whilst we know what
you are, and who you are,
Your wrongs and juiuries:
shrink not, worthy Sir,
But add your Father
to you: in whose name,
We'll waken all the
gods, and conjure up
The rods of vengeance,
the abused people,
Who like to raging
torrents shall swell high,
And so begirt the
dens of these Male-dragons,
That through the
strongest safety, they shall beg
For mercy at your
swords point. Phi.
Friends, no more,
Our years may be
corrupted: 'Tis an age
We dare not trust
our wills to: do you love me?
Thra.
Do we love Heaven and honour?
Phi.
My Lord Dion, you had
A vertuous Gentlewoman,
call'd you Father;
Is she yet alive?
Di. Most
honour'd Sir, she is:
And for the penance
but of an idle dream,
Has undertook a tedious
Pilgrimage.
Enter
a Lady.
Phi.
Is it to me, or any of these Gentlemen you come?
La.
To you, brave Lord; the Princess would intreat
Your present company.
Phi.
The Princess send for me! y'are mistaken.
La.
If you be call'd Philaster, 'tis to you.
Phi.
Kiss her hand, and say I will attend her.
Di.
Do you know what you do?
Phi.
Yes, go to see a woman.
Cle.
But do you weigh the danger you are in?
Phi.
Danger in a sweet face?
By Jupiter I
must not fear a woman.
Thra.
But are you sure it was the Princess sent?
It may be some foul
train to catch your life.
Phi.
I do not think it Gentlemen: she's noble,
Her eye may shoot
me dead, or those true red
And white friends
in her face may steal my soul out:
There's all the danger
in't: but be what may, [Ex.
Phil.
Her single name hath
arm'd me. Di.
Go on:
And be as truly happy
as thou art fearless:
Come Gentlemen, let's
make our friends acquainted,
Lest the King prove
false.
[Ex. Gentlemen.
Enter
Arethusa and a Lady. [1.2]
Are.
Comes he not? La.
Madam?
Are.
Will Philaster come?
La.
Dear Madam, you were wont
To credit me at
first.
Are.
But didst thou tell me so?
I am forgetful,
and my womans strength
Is so o'recharg'd
with danger like to grow
About my Marriage
that these under things
Dare not abide
in such a troubled sea:
How look't he,
when he told thee he would come?
La.
Why, well. Are.
And not a little fearful?
La.
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