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Beaumont Francis
Philaster; Or, Love Lies a Bleeding
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima
Enter Dion, Cleremont, and Thrasiline.
Thra. Has the King sent for him to death?
Di. Yes, but the King must know, 'tis not in
his power to war with Heaven.
Cle. We linger time; the King sent for Philaster and the
Headsman an hour ago.
Thra. Are all his wounds well?
Di. All they were but scratches; but the loss of bloud made him faint.
Cle. We dally Gentlemen.
Thra. Away.
Di. We'l scuffle hard before he perish.
[Exeunt.
Enter Philaster, Arethusa, and Bellario.
Are. Nay dear Philaster grieve not, we are well.
Bell. Nay good my Lord forbear, we are wondrous well.
Phi. Oh Arethusa! O Bellario! leave to be kind:
I shall be shot from Heaven, as now from
Earth, If you continue so; I am a man,
False to a pair of the most trusty ones
That ever earth bore, can it bear us all?
Forgive and leave me, but the King hath sent
To call me to my death, Oh shew it me,
And then forget me: And for thee my boy,
I shall deliver words will mollifie
The hearts of beasts, to spare thy innocence.
Bell. Alas my Lord, my life is not a thing
Worthy your noble thoughts; 'tis not a life,
'Tis but a piece of child-hood thrown away:
Should I out-live, I shall then out-live
Vertue and honour. And when that day comes,
If ever I should close these eyes but once,
May I live spotted for my perjury,
And waste my limbs to nothing.
Are. And I (the woful'st maid as ever was,
Forc'd with my hands to bring my Lord to death)
Do by the honour of a Virgin swear,
To tell no hours beyond it.
Phi. Make me not hated so.
Are. Come from this prison, all joyful to our deaths.
Phi. People will tear me when they find you true
To such a wretch as I; I shall die loath'd.
Injoy your Kingdoms peaceably, whil'st I
For ever sleep forgotten with my faults,
Every just servant, every maid in love
Will have a piece of me if you be true.
Are. My dear Lord say not so.
Bell. A piece of you?
He was not born of women that can cut it and look on.
Phi. Take me in tears betwixt you,
For my heart will break with shame and sorrow.
Are. Why 'tis well.
Bell. Lament no more.
Phi. What would you have done
If you had wrong'd me basely, and had found
My life no price, compar'd to yours? For love Sirs,
Deal with me truly.
Bell. 'Twas mistaken, Sir.
Phi. Why if it were?
Bell. Then Sir we would have ask'd you pardon.
Phi. And have hope to enjoy it?
Are. Injoy it? I.
Phi. Would you indeed? be plain.
Bell. We would my Lord.
Phi. Forgive me then.
Are. So, so.
Bell. 'Tis as it should be now.
Phi. Lead to my death.
[Exeunt.
Enter King, Dion, Cleremont, and Thrasiline.
King. Gentlemen, who saw the Prince?
Cle. So please you Sir, he's gone to see the City, And the new Platform, with some Gentlemen Attending on him.
King. Is the Princess ready To bring her prisoner out?
Thra. She waits your Grace.
King. Tell her we stay.
Di. King, you may be deceiv'd yet:
The head you aim at cost more setting on
Than to be lost so slightly: If it must off
Like a wild overflow, that soops before him
A golden Stack, and with it shakes down Bridges,
Cracks the strong hearts of Pines, whose Cable roots
Held out a thousand Storms, a thousand Thunders,
And so made mightier, takes whole Villages
Upon his back, and in that heat of pride,
Charges strong Towns, Towers, Castles, Palaces,
And layes them desolate: so shall thy head,
Thy noble head, bury the lives of thousands
That must bleed with thee like a sacrifice,
In thy red ruines.
Enter Phil. Are. and Bell, in a Robe and Garland.
King. How now, what Mask is this?
Bell. Right Royal Sir, I should
Sing you an Epithalamium of these lovers,
But having lost my best ayres with my fortunes,
And wanting a celestial Harp to strike
This blessed union on; thus in glad story
I give you all. These two fair Cedar-branches,
The noblest of the Mountain, where they grew
Straightest and tallest, under whose still shades
The worthier beasts have made their layers, and slept
Free from the Syrian Star, and the fell Thunder-stroke,
Free from the Clouds, when they were big with humour,
And delivered in thousand spouts, their issues to
the earth: O there was none but silent quiet there!
Till never pleas'd fortune shot up shrubs,
Base under brambles to divorce these branches;
And for a while they did so, and did raign
Over the Mountain, and choakt up his beauty
With Brakes, rude Thornes and Thistles, till thy Sun
Scorcht them even to the roots, and dried them there:
And now a gentle gale hath blown again
That made these branches meet, and twine together,
Never to be divided: The god that sings
His holy numbers over marriage beds,
Hath knit their noble hearts, and here they stand
Your Children mighty King, and I have done.
King. How, how?
Are. Sir, if you love it in plain truth,
For there is no Masking in't; This Gentleman
The prisoner that you gave me is become
My keeper, and through all the bitter throws
Your jealousies and his ill fate have wrought him,
Thus nobly hath he strangled, and at length
Arriv'd here my dear Husband.
King. Your dear Husband! call in
The Captain of the Cittadel; There you shall keep
Your Wedding. I'le provide a Mask shall make
Your Hymen turn his Saffron into a sullen Coat,
And sing sad Requiems to your departing souls:
Bloud shall put out your Torches, and instead
Of gaudy flowers about your wanton necks,
An Ax shall hang like a prodigious Meteor
Ready to crop your loves sweets. Hear you gods:
From this time do I shake all title off,
Of Father to this woman, this base woman,
And what there is of vengeance, in a Lion
Cast amongst Dogs, or rob'd of his dear young,
The same inforc't more terrible, more mighty,
Expect from me.
Are. Sir,
By that little life I have left to swear by,
There's nothing that can stir me from my self.
What I have done, I have done without repentance,
For death can be no Bug-bear unto me,
So long as Pharamond is not my headsman.
Di. Sweet peace upon thy soul, thou worthy maid
When ere thou dyest; for this time I'le excuse thee,
Or be thy Prologue.
Phi. Sir, let me speak next,
And let my dying words be better with you
Than my dull living actions; if you aime
At the dear life of this sweet Innocent,
Y'are a Tyrant and a savage Monster;
Your memory shall be as foul behind you
As you are living, all your better deeds
Shall be in water writ, but this in Marble:
No Chronicle shall speak you, though your own,
But for the shame of men. No Monument
(Though high and big as Pelion) shall be able
To cover this base murther; make it rich
With Brass, with purest Gold, and shining Jasper,
Like the Pyramids, lay on Epitaphs,
Such as make great men gods; my little marble
(That only cloaths my ashes, not my faults)
Shall far out shine it: And for after issues
Think not so madly of the heavenly wisdoms,
That they will give you more, for your mad rage
To cut off, unless it be some Snake, or something
Like your self, that in his birth shall strangle you.
Remember, my Father King; there was a fault,
But I forgive it: let that sin perswade you
To love this Lady. If you have a soul,
Think, save her, and be saved, for my self,
I have so long expected this glad hour,
So languisht under you, and daily withered,
That heaven knows it is my joy to dye,
I find a recreation in't.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Where's the King?
King. Here.
Mess. Get you to your strength,
And rescue the Prince Pharamond from danger,
He's taken prisoner by the Citizens,
Fearing the Lord Philaster.
Di. Oh brave followers;
Mutiny, my fine dear Country-men, mutiny,
Now my brave valiant foremen, shew your weapons
In honour of your Mistresses.
[Enter another Messenger.
Mess. Arm, arm, arm.
King. A thousand devils take 'em.
Di. A thousand blessings on 'em.
Mess. Arm O King, the City is in mutiny, Led by an old Gray Ruffin, who comes on In rescue of the Lord Philaster.
[Exit with Are. Phi. Bell.
King. Away to the Cittadel, I'le see them safe, And then cope with these Burgers: Let the Guard And all the Gentlemen give strong attendance.
[Ex. King.
[Manent Dion, Cleremont, Thrasiline.
Cle. The City up! this was above our wishes.
Di. I and the Marriage too; by my life, This noble Lady has deceiv'd us all, a plague upon my self; a thousand plagues, for having such unworthy thoughts of her dear honour: O I could beat my self, or do you beat me and I'le beat you, for we had all one thought.
Cle. No, no, 'twill but lose time.
Di. You say true, are your swords sharp? Well my dear Country-men, what ye lack, if you continue and fall not back upon the first broken shin, I'le have you chronicled, and chronicled, and cut and chronicled and all to be prais'd, and sung in Sonnets, and bath'd in new brave Ballads, that all tongues shall troule you in Saecula Saeculorum my kind Can-carriers.
Thra. What if a toy take 'em i'th' heels now, and they run all away, and cry the Devil take the hindmost?
Di. Then the same Devil take the foremost too, and sowce him for his breakfast; if they all prove Cowards, my curses fly amongst them and be speeding. May they have Murreins raign to keep the Gentlemen at home unbound in easie freeze: May the Moths branch their Velvets, and their Silks only be worn before sore eyes. May their false lights undo 'em, and discover presses, holes, stains, and oldness in their Stuffs, and make them shop-rid: May they keep Whores and Horses, and break; and live mued up with necks of Beef and Turnips: May they have many children, and none like the Father: May they know no language but that gibberish they prattle to their Parcels, unless it be the goarish Latine they write in their bonds, and may they write that false, and lose their debts.
Enter the King.
King. Now the vengeance of all the gods confound them; how they swarm together! what a hum they raise; Devils choak your wilde throats; If a man had need to use their valours, he must pay a Brokage for it, and then bring 'em on, they will fight like sheep. 'Tis Philaster, none but Philaster must allay this heat: They will not hear me speak, but fling dirt at me, and call me Tyrant. Oh run dear friend, and bring the Lord Philaster: speak him fair, call him Prince, do him all the courtesie you can, commend me to him. Oh my wits, my wits!
[Exit Cle.
Di. Oh my brave Countrymen! as I live, I will not buy a pin out of your walls for this; Nay, you shall cozen me, and I'le thank you; and send you Brawn and Bacon, and soil you every long vacation a brace of foremen, that at Michaelmas shall come up fat and kicking.
King. What they will do with this poor Prince, the gods know, and I fear.
Di. Why Sir: they'l flea him, and make Church Buckets on's skin to squench rebellion, then clap a rivet in's sconce, and hang him up for a sign.
Enter Cleremont with Philaster.
King. O worthy Sir forgive me, do not make
Your miseries and my faults meet together,
To bring a greater danger. Be your self,
Still sound amongst Diseases, I have wrong'd you,
And though I find it last, and beaten to it,
Let first your goodness know it. Calm the people,
And be what you were born to: take your love,
And with her my repentance, and my wishes,
And all my prayers, by the gods my heart speaks this:
And if the least fall from me not perform'd,
May I be struck with Thunder.
Phi. Mighty Sir,
I will not do your greatness so much wrong,
As not to make your word truth; free the Princess,
And the poor boy, and let me stand the shock
Of this mad Sea breach, which I'le either turn
Or perish with it.
King. Let your own word free them.
Phi. Then thus I take my leave kissing your hand,
And hanging on your Royal word: be Kingly,
And be not moved Sir, I shall bring your peace,
Or never bring my self back.
King. All the gods go with thee.
[Exeunt Omnes.
Enter an old Captain and Citizens with Pharamond.
Cap. Come my brave Mirmidons let's fall on, let our caps
Swarm my boys, and you nimble tongues forget your mothers
Gibberish, of what do you lack, and set your mouths
Up Children, till your Pallats fall frighted half a
Fathom, past the cure of Bay-salt and gross Pepper.
And then cry Philaster, brave Philaster,
Let Philaster be deeper in request, my ding-dongs,
My pairs of dear Indentures, King of Clubs,
Than your cold water Chamblets or your paintings
Spitted with Copper; let not your hasty Silks,
Or your branch'd Cloth of Bodkin, or your Tishues,
Dearly belov'd of spiced Cake and Custard,
Your Robin-hoods scarlets and Johns, tie your affections
In darkness to your shops; no, dainty Duckers,
Up with your three pil'd spirits, your wrought valours.
And let your un-cut Coller make the King feel
The measure of your mightiness Philaster.
Cry my Rose nobles, cry.
All. Philaster, Philaster.
Cap. How do you like this my Lord Prince, these are mad boys, I tell you, these are things that will not strike their top-sayles to a Foist. And let a man of war, an Argosie hull and cry Cockles.
Pha. Why you rude slave, do you know what you do?
Cap. My Pretty Prince of Puppets, we do know,
And give your greatness warning, that you talk
No more such Bugs-words, or that soldred Crown
Shall be scratch'd with a Musket: Dear Prince Pippen,
Down with your noble bloud; or as I live,
I'le have you codled: let him lose my spirits,
Make us a round Ring with your Bills my Hectors,
And let us see what this trim man dares do.
Now Sir, have at you; here I [lie],
And with this swashing blow, do you swear Prince;
I could hulk your Grace, and hang you up cross-leg'd,
Like a Hare at a Poulters, and do this with this wiper.
Pha. You will not see me murder'd wicked Villains?
1 Cit. Yes indeed will we Sir, we have not seen one fo[r] a great while.
Capt. He would have weapons would he? give him a Broad-side my brave boyes with your pikes, branch me his skin in Flowers like a Satin, and between every Flower a mortal cut, your Royalty shall ravel, jag him Gentlemen, I'le have him cut to the kell, then down the seames, oh for a whip To make him Galoone-Laces, I'le have a Coach-whip.
Pha. O spare me Gentlemen.
Cap. Hold, hold, the man begins to fear and know himself,
He shall for this time only be seal'd up
With a Feather through his nose, that he may only see
Heaven, and think whither he's going,
Nay beyond-Sea Sir, we will proclaim you, you would
be King Thou tender Heir apparent to a Church-Ale,
Thou sleight Prince of single Sarcenet;
Thou Royal Ring-tail, fit to fly at nothing
But poor mens Poultry, and have every Boy
Beat thee from that too with his Bread and Butter.
Pha. Gods keep me from these Hell-hounds.
2 Cit. Shall's geld him Captain?
Cap. No, you shall spare his dowcets my dear Donsels,
As you respect the Ladies let them flourish;
The curses of a longing woman kill as speedy as a
Plague, Boys.
1 Cit. I'le have a Leg that's certain.
2 Cit. I'le have an Arm.
3 Cit. I'le have his Nose, and at mine own charge build
a Colledge, and clap't upon the Gate.
4 Cit. I'le have his little Gut to string a Kit with,
For certainly a Royal Gut will sound like silver.
Pha. Would they were in thy belly, and I past my pain once.
5 Cit. Good Captain let me have his Liver to feed Ferrets.
Cap. Who will have parcels else? speak.
Pha. Good gods consider me, I shall be tortur'd.
1 Cit. Captain, I'le give you the trimming of your hand-sword, and let me have his Skin to make false Scabbards.
2. He had no horns Sir had he?
Cap. No Sir, he's a Pollard, what would'st thou do with horns?
Cit. O if he had, I would have made rare Hafts and Whistles of 'em, but his Shin-bones if they be sound shall serve me.
[Enter Philaster.
All. Long live Philaster, the brave Prince Philaster.
Phi. I thank you Gentlemen, but why are these
Rude weapons brought abroad, to teach your hands
Uncivil Trades?
Cap. My Royal Rosiclear,
We are thy Mirmidons, thy Guard, thy Rorers,
And when thy noble body is in durance,
Thus do we clap our musty Murrions on,
And trace the streets in terrour: Is it peace
Thou Mars of men? Is the King sociable,
And bids thee live? Art thou above thy foemen,
And free as Phoebus? Speak, if not, this stand
Of Royal blood shall be abroach, atilt, and run
Even to the lees of honour.
Phi. Hold and be satisfied, I am my self
Free as my thoughts are, by the gods I am.
Cap. Art thou the dainty darling of the King?
Art thou the Hylas to our Hercules?
Do the Lords bow, and the regarded scarlets,
Kiss their Gumd-gols, and cry, we are your servants?
Is the Court Navigable, and the presence struck
With Flags of friendship? if not, we are thy Castle
And this man sleeps.
Phi. I am what I desire to be, your friend,
I am what I was born to be, your Prince.
Pha. Sir, there is some humanity in you,
You have a noble soul, forget my name,
And know my misery, set me safe aboard
From these wild Canibals, and as I live,
I'le quit this Land for ever: there is nothing,
Perpetual prisonment, cold, hunger, sickness
Of all sorts, all dangers, and all together
The worst company of the worst men, madness, age,
To be as many Creatures as a woman,
And do as all they do, nay to despair;
But I would rather make it a new Nature,
And live with all those than endure one hour
Amongst these wild Dogs.
Phi. I do pity you: Friends discharge your fears,
Deliver me the Prince, I'le warrant you
I shall be old enough to find my safety.
3 Cit. Good Sir take heed he does not hurt you,
He's a fierce man I can tell you Sir.
Cap. Prince, by your leave I'le have a Sursingle,
And Male you like a Hawke.
[He stirs.
Phi. Away, away, there is no danger in him:
Alas he had rather sleep to shake his fit off.
Look you friends, how gently he leads, upon my word
He's tame enough, he need[s] no further watching.
Good my friends go to your houses and
by me have your pardons, and my love,
And know there shall be nothing in my power
You may deserve, but you shall have your wishes.
To give you more thanks were to flatter you,
Continue still your love, and for an earnest
Drink this.
All. Long maist thou live brave Prince, brave Prince,
brave Prince.
[Exeunt Phi. and Pha.
Cap. Thou art the King of Courtesie: Fall off again my sweet youths, come and every man Trace to his house again, and hang his pewter up, then to The Tavern and bring your wives in Muffes: we will have Musick and the red grape shall make us dance, and rise Boys.
[Exeunt.
Enter King, Are. Gal. Meg. Cle. Dion, Thra. Bellario, and Attendants.
King. Is it appeas'd?
Di. Sir, all is quiet as this dead of night,
As peaceable as sleep, my Lord Philaster
Brings on the Prince himself.
King. Kind Gentlemen!
I will not break the least word I have given
In promise to him, I have heap'd a world
Of grief upon his head, which yet I hope
To wash away.
Enter Philaster and Pharamond.
Cle. My Lord is come.
King. My Son!
Blest be the time that I have leave to call
Such vertue mine; now thou art in mine arms,
Me thinks I have a salve unto my breast
For all the stings that dwell there, streams of grief
That I have wrought thee, and as much of joy
That I repent it, issue from mine eyes:
Let them appease thee, take thy right; take her,
She is thy right too, and forget to urge
My vexed soul with that I did before.
Phi. Sir, [it is] blotted from my memory,
Past and forgotten: For you Prince of Spain,
Whom I have thus redeem'd, you have full leave
To make an honourable voyage home.
And if you would go furnish'd to your Realm
With fair provision, I do see a Lady
Me thinks would gladly bear you company:
How like you this piece?
Meg. Sir, he likes it well,
For he hath tried it, and found it worth
His princely liking; we were ta'ne a bed,
I know your meaning, I am not the first
That Nature taught to seek a fellow forth:
Can shame remain perpetually in me,
And not in others? or have Princes salves
To cure ill names that meaner people want?
Phi. What mean you?
Meg. You must get another ship To clear the Princess and the boy together.
Di. How now!
Meg. Others took me, and I took her and him
At that all women may be ta'ne sometimes:
Ship us all four my Lord, we can endure
Weather and wind alike.
King. Clear thou thy self, or know not me for Father.
Are. This earth, How false it is? what means is left for me
To clear my self? It lies in your belief,
My Lords believe me, and let all things else
Struggle together to dishonour me.
Bell. O stop your ears great King, that I may speak
As freedom would, then I will call this Lady
As base as be her actions, hear me Sir,
Believe [y]our hated bloud when it rebels
Against your reason sooner than this Lady.
Meg. By this good light he bears it hansomely.
Phi. This Lady? I will sooner trust the wind
With Feathers, or the troubled Sea with Pearl,
Than her with any thing; believe her not!
Why think you, if I did believe her words;
I would outlive 'em: honour cannot take
Revenge on you, then what were to be known
But death?
King. Forget her Sir, since all is knit
Between us: but I must request of you
One favour, and will sadly be denied.
Phi. Command what ere it be.
King. Swear to be true to what you promise.
Phi. By the powers above, Let it not be the death of her or him, And it is granted.
King. Bear away the boy
To Torture, I will have her clear'd or buried.
Phi. O let me call my words back, worthy Sir,
Ask something else, bury my life and right
In one poor grave, but do not take away my
life and fame at once.
King. Away with him, it stands irrevocable.
Phi. Turn all your eyes on me, here stands a man
The falsest and the basest of this world:
Set swords against this breast some honest man,
For I have liv'd till I am pitied,
My former deeds are hateful, but this last
Is pitifull, for I unwillingly
Have given the dear preserver of my life
[Offers to kill himself.]
Unto his Torture: is it in the power
Of flesh and blood, to carry this and live?
Are. Dear Sir be patient yet, or stay that hand.
King. Sirs, strip that boy.
Di. Come Sir, your tender flesh will try your constancie.
Bell. O kill me gentlemen.
Di. No, help Sirs.
Bell. Will you Torture me?
King. Hast there, why stay you?
Bell. Then I shall not break my vow, You know just gods, though I discover all.
King. How's that? Will he confess?
Di. Sir, so he says.
King. Speak then.
Bell. Great King if you command
This Lord to talk with me alone, my tongue
Urg'd by my heart, shall utter all the thoughts
My youth hath known, and stranger things than these
You hear not often.
King. Walk aside with him.
Di. Why speak'st thou not?
Bell. Know you this face my Lord?
Di. No.
Bell. Have you not seen it, nor the like?
Di. Yes, I have seen the like, but readily
I know not where.
Bell. I have been often told
In Court, of one Euphrasia, a Lady
And Daughter to you; betwixt whom and me
(They that would flatter my bad face would swear)
There was such strange resemblance, that we two
Could not be known asunder, drest alike.
Di. By Heaven and so there is.
Bell. For her fair sake,
Who now doth spend the spring time of her life
In holy Pilgrimage, move to the King,
That I may scape this Torture.
Di. But thou speak'st
As like Euphrasia as thou dost look,
How came it to thy knowledge that she
lives in Pilgrimage?
Bell. I know it not my Lord,
But I have heard it, and do scarce believe it.
Di. Oh my shame, is't possible? Draw near,
That I may gaze upon thee, art thou she?
Or else her Murderer? where wert thou born?
Bell. In Siracusa.
Di. What's thy name?
Bell. Euphrasia.
Di. O 'tis just, 'tis she now, I do know thee, Oh
that thou hadst died
And I had never seen thee nor my shame,
How shall I own thee? shall this tongue of mine
E're call thee Daughter more?
Bell. Would I had died indeed, I wish it too,
And so I must have done by vow, e're published
What I have told, but that there was no means
To hide it longer, yet I joy in this,
The Princess is all clear.
King. What have you done?
Di. All is discovered.
Phi. Why then hold you me?
Di. All is discovered, pray you let me go. [He offers to stab himself_.]
King. Stay him.
Are. What is discovered?
Di. Why my shame, it is a woman, let her speak the rest.
Phi. How! that again.
Di. It is a woman.
Phi. Blest be you powers that favour innocence.
King. Lay hold upon that Lady.
Phi. It is a woman Sir, hark Gentlemen!
It is a woman. Arethusa take
My soul into thy breast, that would be gone
With joy: it is a woman, thou art fair,
And vertuous still to ages, in despight of malice.
King. Speak you, where lies his shame?
Bell. I am his Daughter.
Phi. The Gods are just.
Di. I dare accuse none, but before you two
The vertue of our age, I bend my knee
For mercy.
Phi. Take it freely; for I know,
Though what thou didst were undiscreetly done,
'Twas meant well.
Are. And for me,
I have a power to pardon sins as oft
As any man has power to wrong me.
Cle. Noble and worthy.
Phi. But Bellario,
(For I must call thee still so) tell me why
Thou didst conceal thy Sex, it was a fault,
A fault Bellario, though thy other deeds
Of truth outweigh'd it: All these Jealousies
Had flown to nothing, if thou hadst discovered,
What now we know.
Bell. My Father would oft speak
Your worth and vertue, and as I did grow
More and more apprehensive, I did thirst
To see the man so rais'd, but yet all this
Was but a Maiden longing to be lost
As soon as found, till sitting in my window,
Printing my thoughts in Lawne, I saw a God
I thought (but it was you) enter our Gates,
My bloud flew out, and back again as fast
As I had puft it forth, and suck't it in
Like breath, then was I call'd away in hast
To entertain you. Never was a man
Heav'd from a Sheep-coat to a Scepter rais'd
So high in thoughts as I, you left a kiss
Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep
From you for ever, I did hear you talk
Far above singing; after you were gone,
I grew acquainted with my heart, and search'd
What stir'd it so, Alas I found it love,
Yet far from lust, for could I have but liv'd
In presence of you, I had had my end,
For this I did delude my noble Father
With a feign'd Pilgrimage, and drest my self
In habit of a boy, and, for I knew
My birth no match for you, I was past hope
Of having you. And understanding well
That when I made discovery of my Sex,
I could not stay with you, I made a vow
By all the most religious things a Maid
Could call together, never to be known,
Whilst there was hope to hide me from mens eyes,
For other than I seem'd; that I might ever
Abide with you, then sate I by the Fount
Where first you took me up.
King. Search out a match
Within our Kingdom where and when thou wilt,
And I will pay thy Dowry, and thy self
Wilt well deserve him.
Bell. Never Sir will I
Marry, it is a thing within my vow,
But if I may have leave to serve the Princess,
To see the vertues of her Lord and her,
I shall have hope to live.
Are. I Philaster,
Cannot be jealous, though you had a Lady
Drest like a Page to serve you, nor will I
Suspect her living here: come live with me,
Live free, as I do, she that loves my Lord,
Curst be the wife that hates her.
Phi. I grieve such vertues should be laid in earth
Without an Heir; hear me my Royal Father,
Wrong not the freedom of our souls so much,
To think to take revenge of that base woman,
Her malice cannot hurt us: set her free
As she was born, saving from shame and sin.
King. Set her at liberty, but leave the Court,
This is no place for such: you Pharamond
Shall have free passage, and a conduct home
Worthy so great a Prince, when you come there,
Remember 'twas your faults that lost you her,
And not my purpos'd will.
Pha. I do confess,
Renowned Sir.
King. Last joyn your hands in one, enjoy Philaster
This Kingdom which is yours, and after me
What ever I call mine, my blessing on you,
All happy hours be at your Marriage joyes,
That you may grow your selves over all Lands,
And live to see your plenteous branches spring
Where ever there is Sun. Let Princes learn
By this to rule the passions of their blood,
For what Heaven wills, can never be withstood.
