Your
friend in miseries, and cannot frown
On men disgrac'd
for vertue: A good day (tion?
Attend you all.
What service may I do worthy your accepta-
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 (would
I shall imploy your
loves: but yet the time is short of what I
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 sire;
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.
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 sond
do use their only sons;
As
|
