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Enter
Arethuse. [3.2]
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?
[end page 30, signature [E3v], catchword: Are.]
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.
Pill.
[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!
[end column one, page 31]
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 live 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
thoguhts 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
[end page 31, signature [E4], catchword: Go]
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.
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| © Twilight
Pictures, March
2001. This text is freely available for
educational, non-profit uses only. Please report any errors or suggestions
to Drew Whitehead.
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