^.^•^ 
 
 
 -4

 
 THE TEMPLE 'DRJMJTISTS 
 Beaumont and Fletcher's PHIL ASTER
 
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 (S^UX''rvc<^ f^^^iece-ccfn-tp-n^.
 
 PHILASTER 
 
 OR 
 
 Love Lies A-Bleedini 
 
 e^ P/riy written by 
 FRANCIS BEAUMONT 
 
 AND 
 
 JOHN FLETCHER \ 
 
 — ■ ■ ■' - ■ " i 
 
 Edited with n Preface^ Notes a 
 
 nfid Glossary by 
 FREDERICK S. BOAS, M.A. 
 
 J. M, DENT AND CO. 
 
 ALDINE HOUSE : LONDON 
 I89S
 
 ' The first play that brought Fletcher and him 
 in esteem was their PhUasier; for before that they 
 had written two or three very unsuccessfully. . . . 
 Their plots were generally more regular than Shake- 
 speare's, especially those which were made before 
 Beaumont's death ; and they understood and imitated 
 the conversation of gentlemen much better ; whose 
 wild debaucheries, and quickness of wit in repartees, 
 no poet before them could paint as they have done. 
 Humour, which Ben Jonson derived from particular 
 persons, they made it not their business to describe ; 
 they represented all the passions very lively, but above 
 all love. I ani apt to believe the English language in 
 them arrived to its highest perfection ; what words 
 have since been taken in are rather superfluous than 
 ornamental. '— Dryden.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Early Editions. In the Stationers' Register, under the date 
 10 January, 1619-20, we find the entry : — 
 Thomas Walkley 
 
 Entred for his copie vnder the handes of 
 Master Tauernor and Master Jaggard warden vj'^ 
 A Play Called Philaster. 
 The edition here referred to is the Quarto of 1620, with the 
 title : Philaster ; or. Love lyes a Bleeding. Acted at the Globe 
 by his Maiesties Servants. 
 
 f Francis Baymont \ 
 Written by - and \ Gent. 
 
 I John Fletcher ) 
 
 Printed at London for Thomas Walkley, and are to be sold at 
 his shop at the Eagle and Child in Brittaines Bursse, 1620, 40. 
 On the title-page there is also a small woodcut representing 
 'The Princes,' 'ACuntrie Gentellman,' and ' Philaster,' and 
 illustrating a situation in Act iv. Scene 3 of the play. This 
 edition begins and ends in an entirely different manner from all 
 its successors. Its text up to line 1 17 in Act i. and from line 38 
 in Act V. Scene 4 is manifestly spurious, and it is corrupt in 
 other places. But in certain passages it preserves what appears 
 
 V
 
 PREFACE Philaster 
 
 to be the true reading. It contains a list of * The Actors 
 Names,* but no Preface. 
 
 The Second Quarto appeared in 1622, with the title : 
 Philaster or Love lies a Bleeding. As it hath been diverse 
 times Acted at the Globe, and Blacke- Friers, by his Maiesties 
 Servants. 
 
 {Francis Beaumont \ 
 and \ Gent. 
 
 John Fletcher ) 
 
 The second Impression, corrected, and ajyiended. London, 
 Printed for Thomas Walkley, and are to be solde at his shoppe, 
 at the signe of the Eagle and Childe, in Brittaines Burssc, 
 1622, 40. This edition has no woodcut or list of characters, 
 but it contains the following Preface, ' To the Reader.' 
 Courteous Reader. Philaster and Arethusa his hue, haue laine 
 so long a bleeding, by reason of some dangerous and gaping 
 wounds, which they received in the first Impression that it is 
 wondered how they could go abroad so long, or trauaile as farre 
 as they haue done. Although they were hurt neither by me, nor 
 the Printer ; yet I ktiowing and findijtg by experience, how 
 many well-wishers they haue abroad, haue adventured to bind 
 up their wounds, to enable them to visile vpon better tearmes, 
 such friends of theirs as were pleased to take knowledge of them, 
 so mained and deformed, as they at the first were, and if they 
 were then gracious in your sight, assuredly they will now finde 
 double fauour, being reformed, and set forth suitable to their 
 birth, and breeding. By your serviceable Friettd, Thomas 
 Walkley. This edition was the first to give the true text of the 
 play, and as it appeared during the lifetime of Fletcher, who 
 vi
 
 Philaster preface 
 
 may not improbably have resented the publication of the 
 corrupt Quarto of 1620, it is of peculiar value. 
 
 The third Quarto appeared in 1628, with the title : Printed by 
 A. M. for Richard Hawkins ^ and are to be sold at his Shop in 
 Chancery-lane^ adioyning to Sarjeants Inne gate. It contains 
 the following Preface from * The Stationer to The Understand- 
 ing Gentrie.' This play so affectionatly taken and approved by 
 the Seeing Auditors, or Hearing Spectators {of which sort, I 
 take or conceive you to bee the greatest part) hath received {as 
 appears by the copious vent of two Editions) no lesse acceptance 
 with improo^ienient of you likewise the Readers, albeit the first 
 Impression swarmed with Errors, proouing it selfe like pure 
 Gold, which the more it hath beene tried and refined, the better 
 is esteemed ; the best Poems of this kind, in the first presentation, 
 resemble that all tempting minerall newly digged vp, the acters 
 being onely the labouring Miners, but you the skilfull Triers 
 and Refiners : Now considering how cwrant this hath passed 
 vnder the infallible stampe of your iudicious censure, and 
 applause, and {like a gainefull office in this Age) eagerly sought 
 for, not onely by those that have heard and scene it, but by others 
 that have meerely heard thereof: here you behold me acting the 
 merchant-aduentU7-ers part, yet as well for their satisfaction as 
 mine own benefit, and if my hopes {which I hope, shall neuer 
 lye like this Loue a Bleeding) doefairely arrive at their intended 
 Hatien, I shall then be ready to lade a new Bottome, and set 
 forth againe, to gaine the good-will both of you and them. To 
 whom respectively I conuey this hearty greeting. Adieu. 
 
 This Preface, which is repeated in later Quartos, sufficiently 
 attests the play's popularity, of which still stronger proof is 
 furnished by the number of editions that were rapidly called
 
 PREFACE Philaster 
 
 for. A 'fourth Impression' appeared in 1634, and it was 
 followed by a reprint in 1639. This reprint was issued by 
 William Leake, who published two further Quartos in 1652 and 
 in 1660.^ The play was included in the Second Folio Edition 
 of Beaumont and Fletcher's works, 1679, and subsequently was 
 reissued in Quarto form in 1687 and 17 17. 
 
 Date. The date of Philaster cannot be exactly fixed, but it 
 is probably 1609 or 1610. John Davies of Hereford, in his 
 Scourge of Folly i which is assigned by Oldys to 161 1, alludes to 
 the play in an epigram addressed to ' the well-deserving Mr. 
 John Fletcher. ' Dry den, in his Essay on Draviatic Poesy, states 
 that * the first play that brought Fletcher and [Beaumont] in 
 esteem was their Philaster, for before that they had written 
 two or three very unsuccessfully.' The exact beginning of their 
 literary partnership is not known, but it dates, in all pro- 
 bability, from about 1608. Allowing for the unsuccessful 
 ventures of which Dry den speaks, we arrive at 1609 or 1610 
 as the approximate date of the play. 
 
 The Joint-Authorship of the Play. It is highly question- 
 able whether any very fruitful result has been attained by 
 attempts to pluck out the heart of the mystery of the great 
 twin-brethren's joint-productions, and to assign to each his 
 respective share of the creative work. The unique glory of 
 their dramatic partnership lies in its successful preservation of 
 its secret, and its organic creations cannot be analysed into 
 
 I This is the hypothetical date assigned in the British Museum Catalogue 
 to the Quarto, which contains no statement of its year of publication. 
 
 viii
 
 Philaster preface 
 
 component parts by mechanical tests. As a contemporarjs 
 Berkenhead, declared in a commendatory poem— 
 ' Each piece is wholly two, yet never splits ; 
 Ye are not two faculties and one soul still, 
 He th' understanding, thou the quick free-will, 
 But as two voices in one song embrace, 
 Fletcher's keen treble and deep Beaumont's base.' 
 Early tradition merely indicates that Beaumont supplied 'judg- 
 ment,' and checked his companion's exuberance of ' wit.' Thus 
 Cartwright, in lines addressed to Fletcher, asserts — 
 ' Beaumont was fain 
 To bid thee be more dull ; that 's write again 
 And bate some of thy fire, which from thee came 
 In a clear, bright, full, but too large aflame. ' 
 Aubrey and Dryden have borne similar witness. Such a con- 
 census of tradition cannot be ignored, but it is difficult to see 
 in what respects the joint-plays are more signalised by 'judg- 
 ment' than many of which Fletcher is sole author. Recent 
 criticism has accordingly sought a more definite test in metrical 
 characteristics. Mr. Fleay, in his well-known paper in the New 
 Shakspere Society's Transactions, distinguishes in the plays 
 written by Fletcher alone a number of well-marked character- 
 istics, of which the chief are — (i) the very frequent union of 
 double endings with a pause in the sense at the end of the line : 
 (2) an infrequent use of rhyme ; {3) a complete absence of 
 prose. In the joint plays, accordingly, where these character- 
 istics occur, he traces the hand of Fletcher ; all other scenes he 
 assigns to Beaumont.^ But the results of this method arouse 
 
 1 In alater note (January 1876) Mr. Fleay makes a qualification which goes 
 raf to rob his conclusions of their significance. ' These two friends . . .
 
 PREFACE Philaster 
 
 suspicion by the extravagantly preponderant share in the plays 
 that is thus attributed to Beaumont. In the case of Philaster, 
 Mr. Fleay leaves to Fletcher only the fourth scene of Act v. , 
 and another critic, Mr. G. C. Macaulay, in his Francis Beau- 
 mont, A Critical Study, goes one stage further, and asserts that 
 in the play *it is impossible to find any mark of Fletcher.' 
 This is the reductio ad absurdum of the ' metrical test ' method of 
 investigation, and is a practical acknowledgment that Philaster, 
 at any rate, defies the disruptive processes of the modern 
 Chorizontes. 
 
 Characteristics of the Play. But however we may appor- 
 tion the credit of the achievement between the two authors, 
 there can be but one opinion as to the unique charm of the 
 drama, ' the loveliest though not the loftiest of tragic plays 
 which we owe to the comrades or the successors of Shakspere. ' 
 How far the plot is original we cannot tell, but hitherto no 
 source has been discovered. The resemblance between the 
 fortunes of Euphrasia-Bellario, and of Fellisarda in the Diana 
 of Montemayor, or Zelmane in Sidney's Arcadia, does not go 
 beyond the donning of page's attire by each of the ladies that 
 she may follow her lover in disguise. There is more warrant 
 for tracing Shaksperean influences. Euphrasia and Viola in 
 their exquisite tenderness and supreme self-sacrifice have a kin- 
 ship that cannot be accidental, and the relations of Arethusa, 
 Philaster, and Pharamond are suggestively parallel to those of 
 Imogen, Posthumus, and Cloten in the earlier scenes of Cymbe- 
 
 habitually aided each other, not only by writing scenes separately in each 
 play, but also by writing portions of scenes, speeches, or even lines in the 
 same scenes jointly. . . . Fletcher's hand can frequently be traced in 
 Beaumont's prose scenes, though he never introduces prose himself.' 
 
 X
 
 Philaster preface 
 
 line?- But most unmistakable is the resemblance in the First 
 Act between the situation and character of Philaster and of 
 Hamlet. The speech in which Philaster describes how his 
 * father's spirit ' bids him be a king is assuredly an echo of the 
 midnight interview between the Danish Prince and the ghostly 
 visitant at Elsinore. 
 
 Whatever its debt to earlier romances or dramas, Phil- 
 aster bears throughout the stamp of creative originality. Its 
 merit does not lie primarily in its plot. The action in the 
 earlier scenes moves at a lagging pace ; the accusation of un- 
 chastity brought by Megra against Arethusa is too flimsy to 
 bear the weight of the well-nigh tragic developments that 
 follow ; and the ' citizen ' scenes in the last Act are not vitally 
 enough related to the main story. But Hallam is very far 
 from justified in stigmatising the plot as ' most absurdly 
 managed.' There is profound dramatic irony in the fact that 
 Dion, in the hope of promoting Philaster's interests, should 
 make a charge against Arethusa which involves his own 
 daughter in dishonour, and the series of events which leads up 
 to the revelation of her true sex is admirably devised. 
 
 But it is in character-drawing and in diction that the genius 
 of the authors is pre-eminently shown. Philaster — though, as 
 Dryden pointed out, he stains his manhood by wounding his 
 mistress and afterwards his page — is an interesting study of a 
 finely -tempered but over -impulsive nature. Pharamond, a 
 somewhat outre variation on the miles gloriosus type, forms an 
 effective foil ; and Dion is a clever sketch of a loyal, but at 
 times wrong-headed, soldier-politician. Megra, however repul- 
 
 1 It is possible, though not probable, that Philaster was an earlier play 
 than Cymbeline. 
 
 xi
 
 PREFACE Philaster 
 
 sive, is drawn with much realistic vigour ; and Arethusa has 
 a soft and winning grace. But eclipsing all the rest stands 
 the figure of Euphrasia-Bellario, one of the most exquisite 
 cnildren of the Lyric Muse that has ever strayed from her 
 native haunts into the dramatic sphere. From the opening 
 unforgettable picture, in which Philaster tells how he found his 
 ' boy ' sitting by a fountain's side, till the speech in which the 
 avowal of her true sex is wrung from her unwilling lips, 
 Euphrasia lives and moves in an atmosphere of ideal beauty. 
 * Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure 
 love/ and her lips are musical with the very quintessence of 
 silvery eloquence. 
 
 This virginal charm of speech is, in its perfection, Euphrasia's 
 alone, but the witchery of exquisitely limpid diction pervades 
 the whole play. When Dryden declared that in Beaumont and 
 Fletcher's dramas ' the English language arrived at its highest 
 perfection,' he might have cited Philaster specially in support 
 of his view. It is certainly remarkable that just when 
 Sbakspere's style was entering on its most elliptical and 
 intricate stage, and when * conceits ' were reigning in lyric 
 poetry, that such matchless purity and simplicity of expression 
 should have been attained by the twin-dramatists. It is their 
 glory to have done for our blank verse what Addison a century 
 later was to do for our prose. 
 
 Later History of the Play. The enduring popularity of 
 Philaster is attested not only by the numerous editions but 
 by the successive adaptations which were made of the play. 
 The fourth scene of Act v. was acted as a ' droll ' at country 
 fairs during the suppression of the theatres, under the title of 
 xii
 
 Philaster preface 
 
 The Chib-Men. In 1664 a ballad, ' Love in Languishment,' 
 embodying the story of the drama, was published in Thomas 
 Jordan's Royal Arbor of Loyal Poesie. In 1695 Elkanah 
 Settle produced, at the Theatre Royal, a revised version of 
 the play, with the last two Acts rewritten, and with a Prologue 
 and Epilogue. The Prologue contains the following tribute : — 
 
 ' Poets of their new plays so vainly fond, 
 Mistake the Bristol for the Diamond, 
 But when reviv'd Philaster does appear 
 We come secure, bring sterling merit here, 
 A staunch old Orient with true lustre dres't, 
 Wit that has stood the hammer, bore the test." 
 
 In 1 7 14 there was printed in a collection of the works of 
 George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, The Restauration ; or. 
 Right will take Place: a Tragic- comedy, which is an adapta- 
 tion of Philaster, with the names of the dramatis personce 
 entirely changed. It is, however, doubtful whether the Duke 
 is really responsible for the piece. 
 
 The most successful version of the play was that of George 
 Colman, produced at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, in 1763. 
 His aim was * to remove the objections to the performance of 
 this excellent play on the modern stage,' and he therefore left 
 out several scenes, including Act 11. Scene 4. The Prologue is 
 interesting as a sign of the growing reaction from the pseudo- 
 classic to the romantic drama. 
 
 ' While modern tragedy, by rule exact. 
 Spins out a thin-wrought fable, Act by Act, 
 We dare to bring you one of those bold plays 
 Wrote by rough English wits in former dayii, 
 xiii
 
 PREFACE Philaster 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher ; those twin stars that run 
 Their glorious course round Shakespeare's golden sun, 
 Or when Philaster Hamlet's place supplied, 
 Or Bessus walk'd the stage by Falstaff's side.' 
 
 Colman's version was reprinted in 1764, 1780, and 1791. 
 
 Colman edited, in 1778, Beaumont and Fletcher's works in 
 ten volumes, and succeeding editions have been those of 
 Weber, 1812; Darley, 1840; and Dyce, 1843. O^ these, that 
 of Dyce is far the fullest and most valuable. Philaster has 
 not been hitherto published separately, but Benno Leonhardt 
 in Anglia (vol. xix.) has printed the chief textual variations 
 in the early editions. The same writer, in Anglia (vol. viii.), 
 wrote a suggestive but over-elaborated article on the relations 
 of Philaster to Hamlet and Cymbeline. The play has been 
 translated into German by A. Seubert. 
 
 XIV
 
 PHILASTER
 
 DRAMATIS PERSON.^ 
 
 >'KlNG 
 
 f Philastek, Heir to the Crown of Sicily 
 
 ^ Pharamond, Prince of Spain 
 
 f Dion, a Lord 
 
 « Clekemont 
 
 I Thkasiline 
 
 I An old Captain 
 
 I Citizens 
 
 ' A Country Fellow 
 
 I Two Woodmen 
 Guard, Attendants. 
 
 I Aretkusa, Daughter to the King 
 
 / Euphrasia, Daughter to Dion, dit^guised as 
 
 Page under the name of Bellario 
 V Megka, a Court Lady 
 / Galatea, a Lady attending the Princess 
 Two other Ladies 
 
 SCENE.— Messina and its neighbourhood.
 
 PHILASTER 
 
 OR 
 
 LOVE LIES A-BLEEDING 
 
 ACT THE FIRST 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 The Presence Chamber in the Palace. 
 
 Enter Dion, Cleremont, and Thrasiline. 
 
 Cle. Here 's nor lords nor ladies. 
 
 Dion. Credit me, gentlemen, 1 wonder at it. They 
 received strict charge from the King to attend here: 
 besides, it was boldly published, that no officer 
 should forbid any gentleman that desired to attend 
 and hear. 
 
 Cle, Can you guess the cause ? 
 
 Dion. Sir, it is plain, about the Spanish Prince, that 's 
 come to marry our kingdom's heir and be our sove- 
 reign, lo 
 
 TJira. Many, that will seem to know much, say she 
 looks not on him like a maid in love. 
 
 Dion. Faith, sir, the multitude, that seldom know any- 
 thing but their own opinions, speak that they would 
 A I
 
 ACT I. sc. X. Philaster 
 
 have ; but the prince, before his own approach, 
 received so many confident messages from the state, 
 that I think she 's resolved to be ruled. 
 
 Cle. Sir, it is thought, with her he shall enjoy both these 
 kingdoms of Sicily and Calabria. 19 
 
 Dio7i. Sir, it is without controversy so meant. But 'twill 
 be a troublesome labour for him to enjoy both these 
 kingdoms with safety, the right heir to one of them 
 living, and living so virtuously ; especially, the 
 people admiring the bravery of his mind and 
 lamenting his injuries. 
 
 Cle. Who, Philaster? 
 
 Dion. Yes ; whose father, we all know, was by our late 
 King of Calabria unrighteously deposed from his fruit- 
 ful Sicily. Myself drew some blood in those wars, 
 which I would give my hand to be washed from. 30 
 
 Cle. Sir, my ignorance in state-policy will not let me 
 know why, Philaster being heir to one of these 
 kingdoms, the King should suffer him to walk 
 abroad with such free liberty. 
 
 Dion. Sir, it seems your nature is more constant than 
 to inquire after state-news. But the King, of late, 
 made a hazard of both the kingdoms, of Sicily and 
 his own, with offering but to imprison Philaster ; at 
 which the city was in arms, not to be charmed down 
 by any state-order or proclamation, till they saw 
 Philaster ride through the streets pleased and with- 
 out a guard ; at which they threw their hats and 
 
 2
 
 Philaster act i. sc. i. 
 
 their arms from them ; some to make bonfires, 
 some to drink, all for his deliverance : which wise 
 men say is the cause the King labours to bring in 
 the power of a foreign nation to awe his own with. 
 
 Enter Galatea^ a Lady, and Megra. 
 
 Thra. See, the ladies ! What 's the first ? 
 
 Dion. A wise and modest gentlewoman that attends the 
 princess. 50 
 
 Cle. The second ? 
 
 Dion. She is one that may stand still discreetly enough, 
 and ill-favouredly dance her measure ; simper when 
 she is courted by her friend, and slight her hus- 
 band. 
 
 Cle. The last .^ 
 
 Dio7i. Faith, I think she is one whom the state keeps 
 for the agents of our confederate princes ; she '11 
 cog and lie with a whole army, before the league 
 shall break. Her name is common through the 
 kingdom, and the trophies of her dishonour ad- 
 vanced beyond Hercules' Pillars. She loves to try 
 the several constitutions of men's bodies ; and, 
 indeed, has destroyed the worth of her own body 
 by making experiment upon it for the good of the 
 commonwealth. 
 
 Cle. She 's a profitable member. 
 
 Meg. Peace, if you love me : you shall see these gentle- 
 men stand their ground and not court us. 
 3
 
 ACT I. sc. r. Philaster 
 
 Gal. What if they should ? 70 
 
 La. What if they should ! 
 
 Meg. Nay, let her alone. — What if they should ! Why, 
 if they should, I say they were never abroad : what 
 foreigner would do so ? it writes them directly 
 untravelled. 
 
 Gal. Why, what if they be ? 
 
 La. What if they be ! 
 
 Meg. Good madam, let her go on. — What if they be ! 
 Why, if they be, I will justify, they cannot maintain 
 discourse with a judicious lady, nor make a leg nor 
 say 'excuse me.' 81 
 
 Gal. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 Meg. Do you laugh, madam ? 
 
 Dion. Your desires upon you, ladies ! 
 
 Meg. Then you must sit beside us. 
 
 Dion. I shall sit near you then, lady. 
 
 Meg. Near me, perhaps : but there's a lady endures 
 no stranger ; and to me you appear a very strange 
 fellow. 
 
 La. Methinks he's not so strange ; he would quickly be 
 acquainted. 91 
 
 Thru. Peace, the King ! 
 
 Enter Ki?ig, Pharajuond^ Arefhusa, and Attendants. 
 
 King. To give a stronger testimony of love 
 Than sickly promises (which commonly 
 In princes find both birth and burial 
 
 4
 
 Philaster act i. sc. i. 
 
 In one breath) we have drawn you, worthy sir, 
 To make your fair endearments to our daughter, 
 And worthy services known to our subjects, 
 Now loved and wondered at ; next, our intent 
 To plant you deeply our immediate heir ico 
 
 Both to our blood and kingdoms. For this lady 
 (The best part of your life, as you confirm me. 
 And I believe), though her few years and sex 
 Yet teach her nothing but her fears and blushes, 
 Desires without desire, discourse and knowledge 
 Only of what herself is to herself, 
 Make her feel moderate health ; and when she 
 
 sleeps. 
 In making no ill day, knows no ill dreams : 
 Think not, dear sir, these undivided parts, 
 That must mould up a virgin, are put on no 
 
 To show her so, as borrowed ornaments, 
 To speak her perfect love to you, or add 
 An artificial shadow to her nature — 
 No, sir ; 
 
 I boldly dare proclaim her yet no woman. 
 But woo her still, and think her modesty 
 A sweeter mistress than the offered language 
 Of any dame, were she a queen, whose eye 
 Speaks common loves and comforts to her servants. 
 Last, noble son (for so I now must call you), 120 
 What I have done thus public, is not only 
 To add a comfort in particular 
 S
 
 ACT I. sc. I. Philaster 
 
 To you or me, but all ; and to confirm 
 The nobles and the gentry of these kingdoms 
 By oath to your succession, which shall be 
 Within this month at most. 
 
 Thra. This will be hardly done. 
 
 Cle. It must be ill done, if it be done. 
 
 Dion. When 'tis at best, 'twill be but half done, whilst 
 So brave a gentleman is wronged and flung off. 
 
 Thra. I fear. 
 
 Cle. Who does not? 130 
 
 Dio7i. I fear not for myself, and yet I fear too : 
 Well, we shall see, we shall see. No more. 
 
 Pha. Kissing your white hand, mistress, I take leave 
 To thank your royal father ; and thus far 
 To be my own free trumpet. Understand, 
 Great King, and these your subjects, mine that 
 
 must be 
 (For so deserving you have spoke me, sir, 
 And so deserving I dare speak myself), 
 To what a person, of what eminence. 
 Ripe expectation, of what faculties, 140 
 
 Manners and virtues, you would wed your king- 
 doms ; 
 You in me have your wishes. Oh, this country ! 
 By more than all the gods, I hold it happy ; 
 Happy in their dear memories that have been 
 Kings great and good ; happy in yours that is ; 
 And from you (as a chronicle to keep 
 6
 
 Philaster act i. sc. «. 
 
 Your noble name from eating age) do I 
 
 Opine myself most happy. Gentlemen, 
 
 Believe me in a word, a prince's word, 
 
 There shall be nothing to make up a kingdom 150 
 
 Mighty and flourishing, defencM, feared, 
 
 Equal to be commanded and obeyed. 
 
 But through the travels of my life I '11 find it. 
 
 And tie it to this country. By all the gods 
 
 My reign shall be so easy to the subject. 
 
 That every man shall be his prince himself 
 
 And his own law — yet I his prince and law. 
 
 And, dearest lady, to your dearest self 
 
 (Dear in the choice of him whose name and lustre 
 
 Must make you more and mightier) let me say, 160 
 
 You are the blessed'st living ; for, sweet princess, 
 
 You shall enjoy a man of men to be 
 
 Your servant ; you shall make him yours, for whom 
 
 Great queens must die. 
 
 Thra. Miraculous ! 
 
 Cle. This speech calls him Spaniard, being nothing but 
 a large inventory of his own commendations. 
 
 Dion. I wonder what 's his price ; for certainly 
 
 He'll sell himself, he has so praised his shape. 
 But here comes one more worthy those large 
 speeches. 
 
 Enter Philaster, 
 
 Than the large speaker of them. 170 
 
 7
 
 ACT I. sc. t. Philaster 
 
 Let me be swallowed quick, if I can find, 
 
 In all the anatomy of yon man's virtues, 
 
 One sinew sound enough to promise for him, 
 
 He shall be constable. By this sun, he'll ne'er 
 
 make king, 
 Unless it be of trifles, in my poor judgment. 
 Phi. {^kneeling.'] Right noble sir, as low as my obedi- 
 ence. 
 And with a heart as loyal as my knee, 
 I beg your favour. 
 King. Rise ; you have it, sir. \Philaster rises. 
 
 Dion. Mark but the King, how pale he looks, he 
 fears ! 
 Oh, this same whorson conscience, how it jades 
 us ! 1 80 
 
 Ki7ig. Speak your intents, sir. 
 Phi. Shall I speak 'em freely ? 
 
 Be still my royal sovereign. 
 King. As a subject, 
 
 We give you freedom. 
 Dion. Now it heats. 
 
 Phi. Then thus I turn 
 
 My language to you, prince ; you, foreign man ! 
 Ne'er stare nor put on wonder, for you must 
 Endure me, and you shall. This earth you tread 
 
 upon 
 (A dowry, as you hope, with this fair princess), 
 By my dead father (oh, I had a father, 
 8
 
 Philaster act i. sc. i. 
 
 Whose memory I bow to !) was not left 
 
 To your inheritance, and I up and living — 190 
 
 Having myself about me and my sword, 
 
 The souls of all my name and memories, 
 
 These arms and some few friends beside the 
 
 gods — 
 To part so calmly with it, and sit still 
 And say, * I might have been.' I tell thee, Phara- 
 
 mond, 
 When thou art king, look I be dead and rotten, 
 And my name ashes : for, hear me, Pharamond ! 
 This very ground thou goest on, this fat earth, 
 My father's friends made fertile with their faiths, 
 Before that day of shame shall gape and swallow 
 Thee and thy nation, like a hungry grave, 201 
 
 Into her hidden bowels ; prince, it shall ; 
 By the just gods, it shall ! 
 
 Pha. He's mad ; beyond cure, mad. 
 
 Dion. Here is a fellow has some fire in 's veins : 
 
 The outlandish prince looks like a tooth-drawer. 
 
 Phi. Sir prince of popinjays, I '11 make it well 
 Appear to you I am not mad. 
 
 King. You displease us : 
 
 You are too bold. 
 
 Phi. No, sir, I am too tame. 
 
 Too much a turtle, a thing bom without passion, 
 A faint shadow, that every drunken cloud 210 
 
 Sails over, and makes nothing. 
 9
 
 ACT I. sc. I. Philaster 
 
 King. I do not fancy this. 
 
 Call our physicians : sure, he 's somewhat tainted. 
 
 Thra. I do not think 'twill prove so. 
 
 Dion. H'as given him a general purge already, 
 For all the right he has ; and now he means 
 To let him blood. Be constant, gentlemen : 
 By heaven, I '11 run his hazard, 
 Although I run my name out of the kingdom ! 
 
 Cle. Peace, we are all one soul. 
 
 Pha. What you have seen in me to stir offence, 220 
 
 I cannot find, unless it be this lady, 
 Offered into mine arms with the succession ; 
 Which I must keep (though it hath pleased 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 thing but thine ; were Pharamond 
 As truly valiant as I feel him cold, 231 
 
 And ringed among the choicest of his friends 
 (Such as would blush to talk such serious follies, 
 Or back such bellied commendations), 
 And from this presence, spite of all these bugs, 
 You should hear further from me. 
 
 !0
 
 Philaster act i. sc. i. 
 
 Ki7ig. Sir, you wrong the prince ; I gave you not this 
 freedom 
 
 To brave our best friends : you deserve our frown. 
 
 Go to ; be better tempered. 
 Phi. It must be, sir, when I am nobler used. 240 
 
 Gal. Ladies, 
 
 This would have been a pattern of succession. 
 
 Had he ne'er 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. 250 
 
 Phi. If you had my eyes, sir, and sufferance. 
 
 My griefs upon you and my broken fortunes, 
 
 My wants great, and now nothing-hopes and fears, 
 
 My wrongs would make ill riddles to be laughed at. 
 
 Dare you be still my king, and right me ? 
 King. Give me your wrongs in private. 
 Phi. Take them, 
 
 And ease me of a load would bow strong Atlas. 
 
 {They whisper, 
 Cle. He dares not stand the shock. 
 Dion. I cannot blame him ; there's danger in't. 259 
 
 Every man in this age has not a soul of crystal, for 
 II
 
 ACT I. sc. T. Philaster 
 
 all men to read their actions through : men's hearts 
 and faces are so far asunder, that they hold no in- 
 telligence. Do but view yon stranger well, and you 
 shall see a fever 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 yourself, as you respect our favour ; 
 You'll stir us else. Sir, I must have you know, 270 
 That you 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 ; you're my fate. It was not I 
 Said, I was wronged : I carry all about me 
 My weak stars lead 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 entirely love this prince, 279 
 
 And honour his full virtues ! 
 
 King. Sure, he 's possessed. 
 
 Phi. Yes, with my father's spirit. It 's here, O King, 
 A dangerous spirit ! now he tells me. King, 
 I was a king's heir, bids me be a king. 
 And whispers to me, these are 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 : 
 12
 
 Philaster act i. sc. i. 
 
 But I '11 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 : 290 
 
 I '11 make you tamer, or I '11 dispossess you 
 Both of your life and spirit. For this time 
 I pardon your wild speech, without so much 
 As your imprisonment. 
 
 {Exeunt King^ Pharamond, Ar ethics a^ 
 aitd Attendants. 
 
 Dio7t. I thank you, sir 1 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 he not a fine complete gentleman? 
 Oh, these strangers, I do affect them strangely ! 
 they do the rarest home-things, and please the 
 fullest ! As I live, I could love all the nation over 
 and over for his sake. 302 
 
 Gal. Gods comfort your poor head-piece, lady ! 'tis a 
 weak one, and had need of a night-cap. 
 
 \_Exeunt Galatea^ Megra^ aitd Lady. 
 
 Dion. 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 whey ! it stood upon his brow 
 Like a cold winter-dew. 
 13
 
 ACT I. sc. I. Philaster 
 
 Phi. Gentlemen, 310 
 
 You have no suit to me ? I am no minion : 
 You stand, methinks, like men that would be 
 
 courtiers, 
 If I could well be flattered at a price, 
 Not to undo your children. You 're all honest : 
 Go, get you home again, and make your country 
 A virtuous 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. 
 
 Dio7i. The King must please, 320 
 
 Whilst we know what you are and who you are, 
 Your wrongs and injuries. Shrink not, worthy sir, 
 But add your father to you ; in whose name 
 We '11 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 sword's point. 
 
 Phi. Friends, no more ; 
 
 Our ears may be corrupted ; 'tis an age 330 
 
 We dare not trust our wills to. Do you love me ? 
 
 Thra. Do we love heaven and honour ? 
 
 Phi. My Lord Dion, you had 
 
 14
 
 Philaster act i. sc. x. 
 
 A virtuous gentlewoman called you father ; 
 Is she yet alive ? 
 Dion. Most honoured 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 ? 
 Lady. To you, brave lord ; the princess would entreat 
 
 Your present company. 340 
 
 Phi. The princess send for me ! you are mistaken. 
 Lady. If you be called Philaster, 'tis to you. 
 Phi. Kiss her fair hand, and say I will attend her. 
 
 \Exit Lady. 
 Dion. 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. 350 
 
 Her eye may shoot me dead, or those true red 
 
 And white friends in her cheeks may steal my soul 
 out; 
 
 There 's all the danger in 't : but, be what may. 
 
 Her single name hath armed me. \Exit.
 
 ACT I. sc. X. Philaster 
 
 Dion. Go on, 
 
 And be as truly happy as thou 'rt fearless ! 355 
 
 Come, gentlemen, let's make our friends acquainted, 
 Lest the King prove false. \Exeicnt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 ArethuscHs Apartme7it iii the Palace, 
 Enter Arethusa a?id a Lady. 
 
 Are. Comes he not ? 
 
 Lady. Madam? 
 
 Are. Will Philaster come ? 
 
 Lady. Dear madam, you were wont to credit me 
 At first. 
 
 Are. But didst thou tell me so? 
 
 I am forgetful, and my woman's strength 
 
 Is so o'ercharged with dangers like to grow 
 
 About my marriage, that these under-things 
 
 Dare not abide in such a troubled sea. 
 
 How looked he when he told thee he would come ? 
 
 Lady. Why, well. 
 
 Are. And not a little fearful ? 
 
 Lady. Fear, madam ! sure, he knows not what it is. 10 
 
 Are. You are all of his faction ; the whole court 
 Is bold in praise of him ; whilst I 
 May live neglected, and do noble things, 
 16
 
 Philaster act i. sc. 2. 
 
 As fools in strife throw gold into the sea, 
 Drowned in the doing. But, I know he fears. 
 
 Lady. Fear, madam ! methought, his looks hid more 
 Of love than fear. 
 
 Are. Of love ! to whom ? to you ? 
 
 Did you deliver those plain words I sent, 
 With such a winning gesture and quick look 
 That you have caught him 1 
 
 Lady. Madam, I mean to you 
 
 Are. Of love to me ! alas, thy ignorance 21 
 
 Lets thee not see the crosses of our births ! 
 Nature, that loves not to be questioned 
 Why she did this or that, but has her ends, 
 And knows she does well, never gave the world 
 Two things so opposite, so contrary. 
 As he and I am : if a bowl of blood, 
 Drawn from this arm of mine, would poison thee, 
 A draught of his would cure thee. Of love to me ! 
 
 L^ady. Madam, I think I hear him. 
 
 Are. Bring him in. [Exit Lady. 
 
 You gods, that would not have your dooms with- 
 stood, 31 
 Whose holy wisdoms at this time it is, 
 To make the passions of a feeble maid 
 The way unto your justice, I obey. 
 
 17
 
 ACT I. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Re-e?ifer Lady with Philaster. 
 
 Lady. Here is my Lord Philaster. 
 
 Are. Oh, 'tis well 
 
 Withdraw yourself. \Exit Lady, 
 
 Phi. Madam, your messenger 
 
 Made me believe you wished to speak with me. 
 
 Are. 'Tis true, Philaster ; but the words are such 
 I have to say, and do so ill beseem ^ 
 
 The mouth of woman, that I wish them said, 40 
 And yet am loath to speak them. Have you known 
 That I have aught detracted from your worth ? 
 Have I in person wronged you ? or have set 
 My baser instruments to throw disgrace 
 Upon your virtues? 
 
 Phi. Never, madam, you. 
 
 A.re. Why, then, should you, in such a public place, 
 Injure a princess, and a scandal lay 
 Upon my fortunes, famed to be so great, 
 Calling a great part of my dowry in question ? 
 
 Phi. Madam, this truth which I shall speak will be 50 
 Foolish : but, for your fair and virtuous self, 
 I could afford myself to have no right 
 To any thing you wished. 
 
 A7e. Philaster, knov/, 
 
 I must enjoy these kingdoms. 
 
 Phi. Madam, both ? 
 
 18
 
 Philaster act i. sc. ■. 
 
 Are. Both, or I die : by heaven, I die, Philaster, 
 If I not calmly may enjoy them both. 
 
 Phi. I would do much to save that noble life : 
 Yet would be loath to have posterity 
 Find in our stories, that Philaster gave 
 His right unto a sceptre and a crown 60 
 
 To save a lady's longing. 
 
 Are. Nay, then, hear : 
 I must and will have them, and more 
 
 Phi. What more ? 
 
 Are. Or lose that little life the gods prepared 
 To trouble this poor piece of earth withal. 
 
 Phi. Madam, what more ? 
 
 Are. Turn, then, away thy face. 
 
 Phi. No. 
 
 Are. Do. 
 
 Phi. I can endure it. Turn away my face ! 
 I never yet saw enemy that looked 
 So dreadfully, but that I thought myself 
 As great a basilisk as he ; or spake 70 
 
 So horribly, but that I thought my tongue 
 Bore thunder underneath, as much as his ; 
 Nor beast that I could turn from : shall I then 
 Begin to fear sweet sounds ? a lady's voice, 
 Whom I do love? Say, you would have my 
 
 life; 
 Why, I will give it you ; for 'tis to me 
 A thing so loathed, and unto you that ask 
 19
 
 ACT I. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Of so poor use, that I shall make no price : 
 
 If you entreat, I will unmovedly hear. 
 Are. Yet, for my sake, a little bend thy looks. 79 
 
 Phi, I do. 
 
 Are. Then know, I must have them and thee. 
 
 Phi. And me ? 
 Are. Thy love ; without which, all the land 
 
 Discovered yet will serve me for no use 
 
 But to be buried in. 
 Phi. I s't possible? 
 
 Are. With it, it were too little to bestow 
 
 On thee. Now, though thy breath do strike me 
 dead 
 
 (Which, know, it may), I have unript my breast. 
 Phi. Madam, you are too full of noble thoughts, 
 
 To lay a train for this contemned life. 
 
 Which you may have for asking : to suspect 
 
 Were base, where I deserve no ill. Love ycu ! 90 
 
 By all my hopes, I do, above my life ! 
 
 But how this passion should proceed from you 
 
 So violently, would amaze a man 
 
 That would be jealous. 
 Are. Another soul into my body shot 
 
 Could not have filled me with more strength and 
 spirit 
 
 Than this thy breath. But spend not hasty time 
 
 In seeking how I came thus : 'tis the gods. 
 
 The gods, that make me so ; and, sure, our love 
 20
 
 Philaster act i. sc. .. 
 
 Will be the nobler and the better blest, loo 
 
 In that the secret justice of the gods 
 
 Is mingled with it. Let us leave, and kiss ; 
 
 Lest some unwelcome guest should fall betwixt us, 
 
 And we should part without it. 
 
 Phi. 'Twill be ill 
 
 I should abide here long. 
 
 Are. 'Tis true ; and worse 
 
 You should come often. How shall we devise 
 To hold intelligence, that our true loves, 
 On any new occasion, may agree 
 What path is best to tread ? 
 
 Phi. I have a boy. 
 
 Sent by the gods, I hope, to this intent no 
 
 Not yet seen in the court. Hunting the buck, 
 I found him sitting by a fountain's side, 
 Of which he borrowed some to quench his thirst, 
 And paid the nymph again as much in tears. 
 A garland lay him by, made by himself 
 Of many several flowers bred in the vale, 
 Stuck in that mystic order that the rareness 
 Delighted me : but ever when he turned 
 His tender eyes upon 'em, he would weep, 
 As if he meant to make 'em grow again. 120 
 
 Seeing such pretty helpless innocence 
 Dwell in his face, I asked him all his story : 
 He told me that his parents gentle died, 
 Leaving him to the mercy of the fields 
 21
 
 ACT I. sc. z. Philaster 
 
 Which gave him roots ; and of the crystal springs, 
 
 Which did not stop their courses ; and the sun, 
 
 Which still, he thanked him, yielded him his light. 
 
 Then took he up his garland, and did show 
 
 What every flower, as country-people hold, 
 
 Did signify, and how all, ordered thus, 130 
 
 Expressed his grief ; and, to my thoughts, did read 
 
 The prettiest lecture of his country-art 
 
 That could be wished : so that methought I could 
 
 Have studied it. I gladly entertained 
 
 Him, who was glad to follow ; and have got 
 
 The trustiest, loving'st, and the gentlest boy 
 
 That ever master kept. Him will I send 
 
 To wait on you, and bear our hidden love. 
 
 Re-e7iier Lady. 
 
 Are. 'Tis well ; no more. 
 
 Lady. Madam, the prince is come to do his service. 
 Are. What will you do, Philaster, with yourself? 141 
 Phi. Why, that which all the gods have appointed out 
 
 for me. 
 Are. Dear, hide thyself.— 
 
 Bring in the prince. \_Exit Lady. 
 
 PJii. Hide me from Pharamond ! 
 
 When thunder speaks, which is the voice of Jove, 
 
 Though I do reverence, yet I hide me not ; 
 
 And shall a stranger-prince have leave to brag 
 22
 
 Philaster acti. sc.2. 
 
 Unto a foreign nation, that he made 
 Philaster hide himself? 
 
 Are. He cannot know it. 
 
 Phi. Though it should sleep for ever to the world, 150 
 It is a simple sin to hide myself. 
 Which will for ever on my conscience lie. 
 
 Are. Then, good Philaster, give him scope and way 
 In what he says ; for he is apt to speak 
 What you are loath to hear : for my sake, do. 
 
 Phi. I will. 
 
 Re-enter Lady with Pharamond. 
 
 Pha. My princely mistress, as true lovers ought, 
 
 I come to kiss these fair hands, and to show, 
 
 [Exit Lady, 
 
 In outward ceremonies, the dear love 
 
 Writ in my heart. i6o 
 
 Phi. If I shall have an answer no directlier, 
 
 I am gone. 
 Pha. To what would he have answer? 
 
 Are. To his claim unto the kingdom. 
 
 Pha. Sirrah, I forbare you before the King 
 
 Phi. Good sir, do so still : I would not talk with yoiL 
 Pha. But now the time is fitter : do but offer 
 
 To make mention of right to any kingdom, 
 
 Though it be scarce habitable 
 
 Phi. Good sir, let me go. 
 
 23
 
 ACT I. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Pha. And by the gods 
 
 Phi. Peace, Pharamond ! if thou 
 
 Are. Leave us, Philaster. 170 
 
 Phi. I have done. {Going. 
 
 Pha. You are gone ! by Heaven I '11 fetch you back. 
 
 Phi. You shall not need. \Reticrning. 
 
 Pha. What now ? 
 
 Phi. Know, Pharamond, 
 
 I loathe to brawl with such a blast as thou, 
 Who art nought but a valiant voice ; but if 
 Thou shalt provoke me further, men shall say, 
 ' Thou wert,' and not lament it. 
 
 Pha. Do you slight 
 
 My greatness so, and in the chamber of 
 The princess ? 
 
 Phi. It is a place to which I must confess 
 
 I owe a reverence ; but were't the church, 180 
 
 Ay, at the altar, there 's no place so safe, 
 Wliere thou dar'st injure me, but I dare kill thee : 
 And for your greatness, know, sir, I can grasp 
 You and your greatness thus, thus into nothing. 
 Give not a word, not a word back ! Farewell. 
 
 \_Exit. 
 
 Pha. 'Tis an odd fellow, madam ; we must stop 
 
 His mouth with some office when we are married. 
 
 Are. You were best make him your controller. 
 
 Pha. I think he would discharge it well. But, madam., 
 I hope our hearts are knit ; and yet so slow 190 
 24
 
 Philaster act i. sc. ., 
 
 The ceremonies of state are, that 'twill be long 
 Before our hands be so. If then you please, 
 Being agreed in heart, let us not wait 
 For dreaming form, but take a little stolen 
 Delights, and so prevent our joys to come. 
 
 Aj'c. If you dare speak such thoughts, I must withdraw 
 in honour. \^Exit. 
 
 Pha. The constitution of my body will never hold out 
 till the wedding ; I must seek elsewhere. {Exit. 
 
 25
 
 ACT II. sc. I, Philaster 
 
 ACT THE SECOND 
 
 SCENE I 
 A^: A'partment in the Palace. 
 Enter Philaster and Bellario. 
 
 Phi. And thou shalt find her honourable, boy ; 
 Full of regard unto thy tender youth, 
 For thine own modesty ; and, for my sake, 
 Apter to give than thou wilt be to ask, 
 Ay, or deserve. 
 
 Bel. Sir, you did take me up 
 
 When I was nothing ; and only yet am something 
 By being yours. You trusted me unknov/n ; 
 And that which you were apt to conster 
 A simple innocence in me, perhaps 
 Might have been craft, the cunning of a boy lO 
 
 Hardened in lies and theft : yet ventured you 
 To part my miseries and me ; for which, 
 I never can expect to serve a lady 
 That bears more honour in her breast than you, 
 26
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. i. 
 
 Phi. But, boy, it will prefer thee. Thou art young, 
 And bear'st a childish overflowing love 
 To them that clap thy cheeks and speak thee fair 
 
 yet; 
 But when thy judgment comes to rule those 
 
 passions, 
 Thou wilt remember best those careful friends 
 That placed thee in the noblest way of life. 20 
 
 She is a princess I prefer thee to. 
 
 Bel. In that small time that I have seen the world, 
 I never knew a man hasty to part with 
 A servant he thought trusty : I remember, 
 My father would prefer the boys he kept 
 To greater men than he , but did it not 
 Till they were grown too saucy for himself. 
 
 Phi. Why, gentle boy, I find no fault at all 
 In thy behaviour. 
 
 Bel. Sir, if I have made 
 
 A fault in ignorance, instruct my youth : 30 
 
 I shall be willing, if not apt, to learn ; 
 Age and experience will adorn my mind 
 With larger knowledge ; and if I have done 
 A wilful fault, think me not past all hope 
 For once. What master holds so strict a hand 
 Over his boy, that he will part with him 
 Without one warning ? Let me be corrected, 
 To break my stubbornness, if it be so, 
 Rather than turn me off ; and I shall mend. 
 27
 
 ACT II. sc. X. Philaster 
 
 Ptii. Thy love doth plead so prettily to stay, 40 
 
 That, trust me, I could weep to part with thee. 
 Alas, I do not turn thee off ! thou know'st 
 It is my business that doth call thee hence ; 
 And when thou art with her, thou dwell'st with me. 
 Think so, and 'tis so : and when time is full, 
 That thou hast well discharged this heavy trust, 
 Laid on so weak a one, I will again 
 With joy receive thee ; as I live, I will ! 
 Nay, weep not, gentle boy. 'Tis more than time 
 Thou didst attend the princess. 
 
 BeL I am gone. 50 
 
 But since I am to part with you, my lord. 
 And none knows whether I shall live to do 
 More service for you, take this little prayer : 
 Heaven bless your loves, your fights, all your 
 
 designs ! 
 May sick men, if they have your wish, be well ; 
 And Heaven hate those you curse, though I be 
 one ! \^Exit. 
 
 Phi. The love of boys unto their lords is strange : 
 I have read wonders of it : yet this boy 
 For my sake (if a man may judge by looks 
 And speech) would out-do story. I may see 60 
 
 A day to pay him for his loyalty. \_ExiL 
 
 28
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. a. 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 A Gallery in the Palace. 
 Enter Pharamond, 
 
 Pha. Why should these ladies stay so long ? They must 
 come this way : I know the queen employs 'em 
 not ; for the reverend mother sent me word, they 
 would all be for the garden. If they should all 
 prove honest now, I were in a fair taking ; I was 
 never so long without sport in my life, and, in my 
 conscience, 'tis not my fault. Oh, for our country 
 ladies ! 
 
 Enter Galatea. 
 
 Here's one bolted; I'll hound at her. [Aside.'] 
 Madam ! lo 
 
 Gal. Your grace ! 
 
 Pha. Shall I not be a trouble ? 
 
 Gal. Not to me, sir. 
 
 P/ia. Nay, nay, you are too quick. By this sweet 
 hand 
 
 Gal. You'll be forsworn, sir; 'tis but an old glove. If 
 
 you will talk at distance, I am for you : but, good 
 
 prince, be not bawdy, nor do not brag ; these two I 
 
 bar ; and then, I think, I shall have sense enough 
 
 29
 
 ACT II. sc. s. Philaster 
 
 to answer all the weighty apophthegms your royal 
 blood shall manage. 21 
 
 Pha. Dear lady, can you love ? 
 
 Gal. Dear prince ! how dear? I ne'er cost you a coach 
 yet, nor put you to the dear repentance of a banquet. 
 Here's no scarlet, sir, to blush the sin out it was 
 given for. This wire mine own hair covers ; and 
 this face has been so far from being dear to any, 
 that it ne'er cost penny painting ; and, for the rest 
 of my poor wardrobe, such as you see, it leaves no 
 hand behind it, to make the jealous mercer's wife 
 curse our good doings, 31 
 
 Pha. You mistake me, lady. 
 
 Gal. Lord, I do so : would you or I could help it ! 
 
 Pha. You 're very dangerous bitter, like a potion. 
 
 Gal. No, sir, I do not mean to purge you, though 
 I mean to purge a little time on you. 
 
 Pha. Do ladies of this country use to give 
 
 No more respect to men of my full being? 
 
 Gal. Full being ! I understand you not, unless you. 
 grace means growing to fatness ; and then your 
 only remedy (upon my knowledge, prince) is, in a 
 morning, a cup of neat white wine brewed with 
 carduus, then fast till supper ; about eight you may 
 eat ; use exercise, and keep a sparrow-hawk ; you 
 can shoot in a tiller : but, of all, your grace must 
 fly phlebotomy, fresh pork, conger, and clarified 
 whey ; they are all duller of the vital spirits. 
 30
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. a. 
 
 Pha. Lady, you talk of nothing all this while. 
 
 Gal. 'Tis very true, sir ; I talk of you. 49 
 
 Pha. This is a crafty wench ; I like her wit well ; 'twill 
 be rare to stir up a leaden appetite : she 's a Danae, 
 and must be courted in a shower of gold [Aside.] — 
 Madam, look here ; all these, and more than 
 
 Gal. What have you there, my lord .'' gold ! now, as I 
 live, 'tis fair gold ! You would have silver for it, 
 to play with the pages : you could not have taken 
 me in a worse time ; but, if you have present use, 
 my lord, I'll send my man with silver and keep 
 your gold for you. [Takes gold. 
 
 Pha. Lady, lady ! 60 
 
 Gal. She 's coming, sir, behind, will take white money. — 
 Yet for all this I '11 match ye. 
 
 [Aside. Exit behind the hangings. 
 
 Pha. If there be but two such more in this kingdom, 
 and near the court, we may even hang up our harps. 
 Ten such camphire constitutions as this would call 
 the golden age again in question, and teach the old 
 way for every ill-faced husband to get his own 
 children ; and what a mischief that would breed, 
 let all consider ! 70 
 
 E?iter Megra. 
 
 Here's another: if she be of the same last, the 
 devil shall pluck her on. [Aside.] — Many fair 
 mornings, lady. 
 
 31
 
 ACT II. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Meg. As many mornings bring as many days, 
 Fair, sweet, and hopeful to your grace ! 
 
 Pha. She gives good words yet ; sure this wench is 
 free. — {Aside. 
 
 If your more serious business do not call you, 
 Let me hold quarter with you ; we will talk 
 An hour out quickly. 
 
 Meg. What would your grace talk of? 
 
 Pha. Of some such pretty subject as yourself : 80 
 
 I '11 go no further than your eye, or lip ; 
 There's theme enough for one man for an age. 
 
 Meg. Sir, they stand right, and my lips are yet even, 
 smooth. 
 Young enough, ripe enough, and red enough, 
 Or my glass wrongs me. 
 
 Pha. Oh, they are two twinned cherries dyed in blushes 
 Which those fair suns above with their bright 
 
 beams 
 Reflect upon and ripen. Sweetest beauty. 
 Bow down those branches, that the longing taste 
 Of the faint looker-on may meet those blessings, 90 
 And taste and live. 
 
 Meg. Oh, delicate sweet prince ! 
 
 She that hath snow enough about her heart 
 To take the wanton spring of ten such lines off, 
 May be a nun without probation. [Aside.] — Sir, 
 You have in such neat poetry gathered a kiss. 
 That if I had but five lines of that number,
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. a. 
 
 Such pretty begging blanks, I should commend 
 Your forehead or your cheeks, and kiss you too. 
 
 Pha. Do it in prose ; you cannot miss it, madam. 
 
 Meg, I shall, I shall. 
 
 Pha. By my life, but you shall not ; loo 
 
 I 'II prompt you first. SjKisses her.^ Can you do it 
 now? 
 
 Aleg. Methinks 'tis easy, now you ha' done't before me ; 
 But yet I should stick at it. 
 
 P/ia. Stick till to-morrow ; 
 
 I '11 never part you, sweetest. But we lose time : 
 Can you love me ? 
 
 Meg. Love you, my lord ! how would you have me love 
 you? 
 
 Pha. I '11 teach you in a short sentence, 'cause I will 
 not load your memory : this is all ; love me, and lie 
 with me. 
 
 Meg. Was it lie with you, you said? 'tis impossible, no 
 
 Pha. Not to a willing mind, that will endeavour : if I 
 do not teach you to do it as easily in one night as 
 you'll go to bed, I '11 lose my royal blood for't. 
 
 Meg. Why, prince, you have a lady of your own 
 That yet wants teaching. 
 
 Pha. I '11 sooner teach a mare the old measures, than 
 teach her anything belonging to the function. She's 
 afraid to lie with herself, if she have but any mascu- 
 line imaginations about her. I know, when we are 
 married, I must ravish her. 120
 
 ACT II. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Meg. By my honour, that 's a foul fault, indeed ; 
 
 But time and your good help will wear it out, sir. 
 
 Pha. And for any other I see, excepting your dear self, 
 dearest lady, I had rather be Sir Tim the school- 
 master, and leap a dairy-maid. 
 
 Meg. Has your grace seen the court star, Galatea ? 
 
 Pha. Out upon her ! she 's as cold of her favour as an 
 apoplex : she sailed by but now. 
 
 Meg. And how do you hold her wit, sir ? 129 
 
 Pha. I hold her wit? The strength of all the guard 
 cannot hold it, if they were tied to it ; she would 
 blow 'em out of the kingdom. They talk of Jupiter ; 
 he 's but a squib-cracker to her : look well about 
 you, and you may find a tongue-bolt. But speak, 
 sweet lady, shall I be freely welcome ? 
 
 Meg. Whither? 
 
 Pha. To your bed. If you mistrust my faith, you do me 
 the unnoblest wrong. 
 
 Meg. I dare not, prince, I dare not. 139 
 
 Pha. Make your own conditions, my purse shall seal 'em ; 
 and what you dare imagine you can want, I'll furnish 
 you withal : give two hours to your thoughts every 
 morning about it. Come, I know you are bashful ; 
 Speak in my ear, will you be mine ? Keep this, 
 
 [^Gives her a ring. 
 And with it me : soon I will visit you. 
 
 Meg. My lord, 150 
 
 My chamber 's most unsafe ; but when 'tis night, 
 34
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. 3. 
 
 I '11 find some means to slip into your lodging ; 
 
 Till when 
 
 Pha. Till when, this and my heart go with thee ! 150 
 
 \_Exeunt severally. 
 
 Re-enter Galatea. 
 
 Gal. Oh, thou pernicious petticoat prince ! are these 
 
 your virtues? Well, if I do not lay a train to 
 
 blow your sport up, I am no woman : and. Lady 
 
 Towsabel, I '11 fit you for 't. {Exit. 
 
 SCENE III 
 
 Aretkusa^s Apartment in the Palace. 
 
 Enter Arethusa and a Lady. 
 
 Are. Where 's the boy ? 
 
 Lady. Within, madam. 
 
 Are. Gave you him gold to buy him clothes ? 
 
 Lady. I did. 
 
 Are. And has he done't? 
 
 Lady. Yes, madam. 
 
 Are. 'Tis a pretty sad-talking boy, is it not ? 
 
 Asked you his name ? 
 Lady. No, madam. 
 
 Enter Galatea. 
 Are. Oh, you are welcome. What good news ? 10 
 
 Gal. As good as any one can tell your grace. 
 
 That says, she has done that you would have wished. 
 35
 
 ACT II. sc, 3. Philaster 
 
 Are. Hast thou discovered ? 
 
 Gal. I have strained a point 
 
 Of modesty for you. 
 
 Are. I prithee, how ? 
 
 Gal. In listening after bawdry. I see, let a lady 
 Live never so modestly, she shall be sure to find 
 A lawful time to hearken after bawdry. 
 Your prince, brave Pharamond, was so hot on 't \ 
 
 Are. With whom ? 
 
 Gal. Why, with the lady I suspected : 
 
 I can tell the time and place. 
 
 Are. Ch, when, and where ? 
 
 Gal. To-night, his lodging. 20 
 
 Ai-e. Run thyself into the presence ; mingle there again 
 With other ladies ; leave the rest to me. 
 
 {Exit Galatea. 
 If destiny (to whom we dare not say, 
 Why thou didst this) have not decreed it so, 
 In lasting leaves (whose smallest characters 
 Was never altered yet), this match shall break. 
 
 \Aside. 
 Where 's the boy ? 
 
 Lady. Here, madam. 
 
 Enter Bellario^ richly dressed. 
 Are. Sir, 
 
 You are sad to change your service ; is 't not so ? 
 Bel. Madam, I have not changed ; I wait on you, 30 
 To do him service. 
 
 36
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. 3. 
 
 Are. Thou dwclaim'st in me. 
 
 Tell me thy name. 
 
 Bel. Bellario. 
 
 Are, Thou canst sing and play? 
 
 Bel. If grief will give me leave, madam, I can. 
 
 Are. Alas, what kind of grief can thy years know? 
 
 Hadst thou a curst master when thou went'st to 
 
 school ? 
 Thou art not capable of other grief ; 
 Thy brows and cheeks are smooth as waters be 
 When no breath troubles them : believe me, boy, 
 Care seeks out wrinkled brows and hollow eyes, 
 And builds himself caves, to abide in them. 40 
 
 Come, sir, tell me truly, does your lord love me ? 
 
 Bel. Love, madam ! I know not what it is. 
 
 Are. Canst thou know grief, and never yet knew'st love? 
 Thou art deceived, boy. Does he speak of me 
 As if he wished me well ? 
 
 Bel Ifitbelove 
 
 To forget all respect of his own friends 
 With thinking of your face ; if it be love 
 To sit cross-armed and sigh away the day, 
 Mingled with starts, crying your name as loud 
 And hastily as men i' the streets do fire ; 50 
 
 If it be love to weep himself away 
 When he but hears of any lady dead 
 Or killed, because it might have been your chance ; 
 If, when he goes to rest (which will not be), 
 37
 
 ACT II. sc. 3. Philaster 
 
 'Twixt every prayer he says, to name you once, 
 As others drop a bead, be to be in love, 
 Then, madam, I dare swear he loves you. 
 A7-e. Oh, you're a cunning boy, and taught to he 
 For your lord's credit ! but thou know'st a He 
 That bears this sound is welcomer to me 60 
 
 Than any truth that says he loves me not. 
 Lead the way, boy. — Do you attend me too. — 
 'Tis thy lord's business hastes me thus. Away ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV 
 Before Pharainond's Lodging in the Court of the Palace. 
 Enter Dion^ Clereinont, Thrasiline, Megra, and Galatea. 
 
 Dio7i. Come, ladies, shall we talk a round ? As men 
 
 Do walk a mile, women should talk an hour 
 
 After supper : 'tis their exercise. 
 Gal. 'Tis late. 
 
 Meg. 'Tis all 
 
 My eyes will do to lead me to my bed. 
 Gal. I fear, they are so heavy, you '11 scarce find 
 
 The way to your own lodging with 'em to-night. 
 
 Enter Pharamond. 
 
 Thra. The prince I 
 
 Pha. Not a-bed, ladies ? you're good sitters-up : 
 38
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. 4. 
 
 What think you of a pleasant dream, to last 
 Till morning ? lo 
 
 Meg. I should choose, my lord, a pleasing wake before 
 it. 
 
 Eftter Arethusa and Bellario. 
 
 Are. 'Tis well, my lord; you're courting of these 
 ladies. — 
 Is 't not late, gentlemen ? 
 
 Cle. Yes, madam. 
 
 Are. Wait you there. \Exit, 
 
 Meg. She's jealous, as I live. [Aside.] — Look you, my 
 lord, 
 The princess has a Hylas, an Adonis. 
 
 F/ia. His form is angel-like. 
 
 Meg. Why, this is he 
 
 That must, when you are wed, sit by your pillow, 
 Like young Apollo, with his hand and voice 
 Binding your thoughts in sleep ; the princess 
 Does provide him for you and for herself. 20 
 
 P/ia. I find no music in these boys. 
 
 Meg. Nor I : 
 
 They can do little, and that small they do. 
 They have not wit to hide. 
 
 D/o;7. Serves he the princess ? 
 
 T/ira. Yes> 
 
 Dion. 'Tis a sweet boy : how brave she keeps him ! 
 39
 
 ACT II. sc. ♦. Philaster 
 
 Pha. Ladies all, good rest ; I mean to kill a buck 
 
 To-morrow morning ere you 've done your dreams. 
 
 Meg. All happiness attend your grace ! 
 
 \Exit Pharamond. 
 Gentlemen, good rest. — Come, shall we go to bed ? 
 
 GaL Yes.— All, good night. 
 
 Dion. May your dreams be true to you ! — 
 
 \Exeunt Galatea and Megra. 
 
 What shall we do, gallants ? 'tis late. The King 30 
 
 Is up still : see, he comes ; a guard along with him. 
 
 Enter King with Arethusa^ Guards^ a7id Attendaiiis. 
 
 King. Look your intelligence be true. 
 Af-e. Upon my life, it is : and I do hope 
 
 Your highness will not tie me to a man 
 
 That in the heat of wooing throws me off. 
 
 And takes another. 
 Dion. What should this mean ? 
 
 King. If it be true. 
 
 That lady had been better have embraced 
 
 Cureless diseases. Get you to your rest : 
 
 You shall be righted. 
 
 \Exeunt Arethusa and Bellario. 
 — Gentlemen, draw near ; 
 
 We shall employ you. Is young Pharamond 40 
 
 Come to his lodging t 
 Dion. I saw him enter there. 
 
 40
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. 4. 
 
 King. Haste, some of you, and cunningly discover 
 
 If Megra be in her lodging. \Exit. 
 
 Cle. Sir, 
 
 She parted hence but now, with other ladies. 
 
 King. If she be there, we shall not need to make 
 A vain discovery of our suspicion. 
 You gods, I see that who unrighteously 
 Holds wealth or state from others shall be cursed 
 In that which meaner men are blest withal : 
 Ages to come shall know no male of him 50 
 
 Left to inherit, and his name shall be 
 Blotted from earth ; if he have any child, 
 It shall be crossly matched ; the gods themselves 
 Shall sow wild strife betwixt her lord and her. 
 Yet, if it be your wills, forgive the sin 
 I have committed ; let it not fall 
 Upon this understanding child of mine ! 
 She has not broke your laws. But how can I 
 Look to be heard of gods that must be just. 
 Praying upon the ground I hold by wrong ? 60 
 
 {Aside. 
 
 Re-enter Dion. 
 
 Dion. Sir, I have asked, and her women swear she is 
 within ; but they, I think, are bawds. I told 'em, I 
 must speak with her ; they laughed, and said, their 
 lady lay speechless. I said, my business was im- 
 portant ; they said, their lady was about it. I grew 
 41
 
 ACT II. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 hot, and cried, my business was a matter that con- 
 cerned life and death ; they answered, so was sleep- 
 ing, at which their lady was. I urged again, she 
 had scarce time to be so since last I saw her : they 
 smiled again, and seemed to instruct me that sleep- 
 ing was nothing but lying down and winking. 
 Answers more direct I could not get : in short, sir, 
 I think she is not there. 73 
 
 Ki?ig. 'Tis then no time to dally. — You o' the guard, 
 
 Wait at the back door of the prince's lod 
 
 emsr 
 
 OJ 
 
 And see that none pass thence, upon your lives. — 
 
 \Exeu7it Guards. 
 Knock, gentlemen ; knock loud ; louder yet. 
 
 \pion, Clerefnonf, etc., knock at the door 
 of Pharamo7ids lodgiiig. 
 What, has their pleasure taken off their hearing? 
 I '11 break your meditations. — Knock again. — 
 Not yet ? I do not think he sleeps, having this 80 
 Larum by him. — Once more. — Pharamond ! prince ! 
 \Pharamond appears at a wmdow. 
 Pha. What saucy groom knocks at this dead of night ? 
 Where be our waiters ? By my vexed soul. 
 He meets his death that meets me, for this bold- 
 ness. 
 King. Prince, prince, you wrong your thoughts ; we are 
 your friends : 
 Come down. 
 Pha. The King ! 
 
 42
 
 Philaster act ii. sc 4. 
 
 King. The same, sir. Come down, sir : 
 
 We have cause of present counsel with you. 
 
 Enter P7ia7'amond below. 
 
 Pha. If your grace please 
 
 To use me, I '11 attend you to your chamber. 
 King. No, 'tis too late, prince ; I '11 make bold with 
 yours. 90 
 
 Pha. I have some private reasons to myself 
 
 Makes me unmannerly, and say you cannot. — 
 
 Nay, press not forward, gentlemen ; he must 
 
 Come through my life that comes here. 
 King. Sir, be resolved I must and will come. — Enter ! 
 Pha. I will not be dishonoured : 
 
 He that enters, enters upon his death. 
 
 Sir, 'tis a sign you make no stranger of me, 
 
 To bring these renegadoes to my chamber 
 
 At these unseasoned hours. 
 Ki7tg. Why do you 100 
 
 Chafe yourself so ? you are not wronged nor shall 
 be ; 
 
 Only I '11 search your lodging, for some cause 
 
 To ourself known. — Enter, I say. 
 Pha. I say, no. \_Megra appears at a window. 
 
 Meg. Let 'em enter, prince, let 'em enter ; 
 
 I am up and ready : I know their business ; 
 
 'Tis the poor breaking of a lady's honour 
 43
 
 ACT II. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 They hunt so hotly after ; let 'em enjoy it. — 
 You have your business, gentlemen ; I lay here. 
 Oh, my lord the King, this is not noble in you, 
 To make public the weakness of a woman ! 
 
 King. Comedown, no 
 
 Meg. I dare, my lord. Your hootings and your 
 clamours, 
 Your private whispers and your broad fleerings, 
 Can no more vex my soul than this base carriage ; 
 But I have vengeance yet in store for some 
 Shall, in the most contempt you can have of me. 
 Be joy and nourishment. 
 
 King, Will you come down ? 
 
 Meg. Yes, to laugh at your worst; but I shall wring 
 you. 
 If my skill fail me not. {Exit above. 
 
 Kittg. Sir, I must dearly chide you for this looseness ; 
 You have wronged a worthy lady : but, no more. — 
 Conduct him to my lodging and to bed. 121 
 
 \Exeunt Pharmnond and Attendants. 
 
 Cle. Get him another wench, and you bring him to bed 
 indeed. 
 
 Diojt. 'Tis strange a man cannot ride a stage 
 
 Or two, to breathe himself, without a warrant. 
 If his gear hold^ that lodgings be searched thus. 
 Pray Heaven we may lie with our own wives in 
 
 safety. 
 That they be not by some trick of state mistaken 1 
 44
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. 4. 
 
 Enter Megra below. 
 
 King. Now, lady of honour, where 's your honour now ? 
 No man can fit your palate but the prince : 
 Thou most ill-shrouded rottenness, thou piece 130 
 Made by a painter and a 'pothecary, 
 Thou troubled sea of lust, thou wilderness 
 Inhabited by wild thoughts, thou swoln cloud 
 Of infection, thou ripe mine of all diseases, 
 Thou all-sin, all-hell, and last all-devils, tell me. 
 Had you none to pull on with your courtesies 
 But he that must be mine, and wrong my daughter? 
 By all the gods, all these, and all the pages, 
 And all the court, shall hoot thee through the 
 
 court, 
 Fling rotten oranges, make ribald rhymes, 140 
 
 And sear thy name with candles upon walls ! 
 Do you laugh. Lady Venus ? 
 
 Meg. Faith, sir, you must pardon me ; 
 
 I cannot choose but laugh to see you merry. 
 If you do this, O King ! nay, if you dare do it, 
 By all those gods you swore by, and as many 
 More of my own, I will have fellows, and such 
 Fellows in it, as shall make noble mirth ! 
 The princess, your dear daughter, shall stand by 
 
 me 
 On walls, and sung in ballads, any thing : 
 Urge me no more ; I know her and her haunts, 1 50 
 45
 
 ACT II. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 Her lays, leaps, and outlays, and will discover all ; 
 Nay, will dishonour her. I know the boy 
 She keeps ; a handsome boy, about eighteen ; 
 Know what she does with him, where, and when. 
 Come, sir, you put me to a woman's madness. 
 The glory of a fury ; and if I do not 
 Do 't to the height 
 
 King. What boy is this she raves at ? 
 
 Meg. Alas ! good-minded prince, you know not these 
 things ! 
 I am loth to reveal 'em. Keep this fault. 
 As you would keep your health from the hot air 160 
 Of the corrupted people, or, by Heaven, 
 I will not fall alone. What I have known 
 Shall be as public as a print ; all tongues 
 Shall speak it as they do the language they 
 Are born in, as free and commonly ; I '11 set it, 
 Like a prodigious star, for all to gaze at. 
 And so high and glowing, that other kingdoms far 
 
 and foreign 
 Shall read it there, nay, travel with it, till they find 
 No tongue to make it more, nor no more people ; 
 And then behold the fall of your fair princess ! 170 
 
 King. Has she a boy ? 
 
 Cle. So please your grace, I have seen a boy wait on her, 
 A fair boy. 
 
 King. Go, get you to your quarter : 
 
 For this time I will study to forget you. 
 46
 
 Philaster act ii. sc. 4. 
 
 Meg. Do you study to forget me, and I '11 study 
 To forget you. 
 
 \Exeimt King and Megra, severally. 
 
 Cle. Why, here's a male spirit fit for Hercules. If ever 
 there be Nine Worthies of women, this wench shall 
 ride astride and be their captain. 179 
 
 Dion. Sure, she has a garrison of devils in her tongue, 
 she uttered such balls of wild-fire : she has so 
 nettled the King, that all the doctors in the country 
 will scarce cure him. That boy was a strange-found- 
 out antidote to cure her infection ; that boy, that 
 princess' boy ; that brave, chaste, virtuous lady's 
 boy ; and a fair boy, a well-spoken boy ! All these 
 considered, can make nothing else — but there I 
 leave you, gentlemen. 
 
 Thra. Nay, we '11 go wander with you. {Exeunt, 
 
 47
 
 ACT III. sc. I. Philaster 
 
 ACT THE THIRD 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 The Court of the Palace. 
 Enter Dion, Cleremojit, and Thrasilhie. 
 
 Cle. Nay, doubtless, 'tis true. 
 
 Dion. Ay ; and 'tis the gods 
 
 That raised this punishment, to scourge the King 
 With his own issue. Is it not a shame 
 For us that should write noble in the land, 
 For us that should be freemen, to behold 
 A man that is the bravery of his age, 
 Philaster, pressed down from his royal right 
 By this regardless King ? and only look 
 And see the sceptre ready to be cast 
 Into the hands of that lascivious lady lo 
 
 That lives in lust with a smooth boy, now to be 
 
 married 
 To yon strange prince, who, but that people please 
 To let him be a prince, is born a slave 
 In that which should be his most noble part, 
 His mind? 
 
 48
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. i. 
 
 Thra. That man that would not stir with you 
 
 To aid Philaster, let the gods forget 
 That such a creature walks upon the earth ! 
 
 Cle. Philaster is too backward in't himself. 
 The gentry do await it, and the people, 
 Against their nature, are all bent for him, 20 
 
 And like a field of standing corn, that 's moved 
 With a stiff gale, their heads bow all one way. 
 
 Dion. The only cause that draws Philaster back 
 From this attempt is the fair princess' love. 
 Which he admires, and we can now confute. 
 
 TJira. Perhaps he '11 not believe it. 
 
 Dion. Why, gentlemen, 
 
 'Tis without question so. 
 
 Cle. Ay, 'tis past speech, 
 
 She lives dishonestly : but how shall we, 
 If he be curious, work upon his faith? 
 
 Thra. We all are satisfied within ourselves. 30 
 
 Dioti. Since it is true, and tends to his own good, 
 I '11 make this new report to be my knowledge ; 
 I '11 say I know it ; nay, I '11 swear I saw it. 
 
 Cle. It will be best. 
 
 Thra. 'Twill move him. 
 
 Dion. Here he comes. 
 
 Enter Philaster. 
 
 Good morrow to your honour : we have spent 
 Some time in seeking you. 
 
 D 49
 
 ACT III. sc. I. Philaster 
 
 Phi. My worthy friends, 
 
 You that can keep your memories to know 
 Your friend in miseries, and cannot frown 
 On men disgraced for virtue, a good day 
 Attend you all ! What service may I do 40 
 
 Worthy your acceptation ? 
 
 Dion. jMy good lord. 
 
 We come to urge that virtue, which we know 
 Lives in your breast, forth. Rise, and make a 
 
 head : 
 The nobles and the people are all dulled 
 With this usurping King ; and not a man. 
 That ever heard the word, or knew such a thing 
 As virtue, but will second your attempts. 
 
 Phi. How honourable is this love in you 
 
 To me that have deserved none ! Know, my 
 
 friends 
 (You, that were born to shame your poor Philaster 
 With too much courtesy), I could afford 51 
 
 To melt myself in thanks : but my designs 
 Are not yet ripe : suffice it, that ere long 
 I shall employ your loves ; but yet the time 
 Is short of what I would. 
 
 Dion. The time is fuller, sir, than you expect ; 
 
 That which hereafter will not, perhaps, be 
 
 reached 
 By violence may now be caught. As for the 
 King, 
 
 50
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. i. 
 
 You know the people have long hated him ; 
 
 But now the princess, whom they loved 60 
 
 Phi. Why, what of her ? 
 
 Dion. Is loathed as much as he. 
 
 Phi. By what strange means ? 
 
 Dion. She's known a whore. 
 
 Phi. Thou liest. 
 
 Dio?t. My lord 
 
 Phi. Thou liest. 
 
 \Offers to draw his sword : they hold him. 
 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 pardoned : be it false as hell, 
 'Twill never be redeemed, if it be sown 
 Amongst the people, fruitful to increase 
 All evil they shall hear. Let me alone, 70 
 
 That I may cut off falsehood 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. 
 
 Dion. 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. 
 51
 
 ACT III. sc. I. Philaster 
 
 Thra. Nay, good my lord, be patient. 
 
 Cle. Sir, remember this is your honoured friend, 80 
 
 That comes to do his service, and will show you 
 
 Why he uttered this. 
 PJii. 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 distempered and enraged as now. 
 Dion. But this, my lord, is truth. 
 Phi. Oh, say not so I 
 
 Good sir, forbear to say so ; 'tis then truth. 
 
 That all womankind is false : urge it no more ; 
 
 It is impossible. Why should you think 90 
 
 The princess light ? 
 Dion. Why, she was taken at it. 
 
 PJii. 'Tis false ! by Heaven, 'tis false ! it cannot 
 be! 
 
 Can it ? Speak, gentlemen ; for love of truth, 
 speak ! 
 
 Is't possible? Can women all be damned.? 
 Dion. Why, no, my lord. 
 
 Phi. Why, then, it cannot be. 
 
 Dion. And she was taken with her boy. 
 Phi. What boy .? 
 
 Dion. A page, a boy that serves her. 
 Phi. Oh, good gods ! 
 
 A little boy ? 
 
 52
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. i. 
 
 Dion. Ay ; know you him, my lord ? 
 
 Phi. Hell and sin know him ! [Aside.] — Sir, you are 
 deceived ; 
 I '11 reason it a little coldly with you : lOO 
 
 If she were lustful, would she take a boy, 
 That knows not yet desire ? she would have one 
 Should meet her thoughts and know the sin he 
 
 acts, 
 Which is the great delight of wickedness. 
 You are abused, and so is she, and I. 
 Dion. How you, my lord ? 
 PM. Why, all the world 's abused 
 
 In an unjust report. 
 Dion. Oh, noble sir, your virtues 
 
 Cannot look into the subtle thoughts of woman ! 
 In short, my lord, I took them ; I myself. 
 P/ii. Now, all the devils, thou didst ! Fly from my 
 rage! no 
 
 Would thou hadst ta'en devils engendering 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 ! 
 T/ira. Have you known him so ill-tempered ? 
 
 Cie. Never before. 
 
 53
 
 ACT III. sc. I. Philaster 
 
 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 ? 
 
 Dion. Why, my lord, are you 121 
 
 So moved at this ? 
 
 Phi. When any fall from virtue, 
 
 I am distract ; I have an interest in 't. 
 
 Dion. But, good my lord, recall yourself, and think 
 What's best to be done. 
 
 Phi. I thank you ; I will do it : 
 
 Please you to leave me ; I '11 consider of it. 
 To-morrow I will find your lodging forth, 
 And give you answer. 
 
 Dion. All the gods direct you 
 
 The readiest way ! 
 
 Thru. He was extreme impatient. 
 
 Cle. It was his virtue and his noble mind. 130 
 
 {^Exeunt Dion^ Cleremont^ and Thrasiline, 
 
 Phi. I had forgot to ask him where he took them ; 
 I '11 follow him. Oh, that I had a sea 
 Within my breast, to quench the fire I feel ! 
 More circumstances will but fan this fire : 
 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. 
 54
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. i. 
 
 Oh that, like beasts, we could not grieve ourselves 
 With that we see not ! Bulls and rams will fight 
 To keep their females, standing in their sight ; 141 
 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 water of the springs as sweet 
 As 'twas before, finding no start in sleep : 
 But miserable man 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 See, see, you gods, 
 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 150 
 To intrap mortality, that you allow 
 Treason so smooth a brow ? I cannot now 
 Think he is guilty. \Aside, 
 
 Bel. Health to you, my lord ! 
 
 The princess doth commend her love, her life. 
 And this, unto you. \Gives a letter. 
 
 Phi. Oh Bellario, 
 
 Now I perceive she loves me ! she does show it 
 In loving thee, my boy : she has made thee brave. 
 
 Bel. 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. 160 
 
 Phi. Thou art grown courtly, boy. — Oh, let all women, 
 55
 
 ACT III. sc. .. Philaster 
 
 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. — 
 
 [Aside. 
 Tell me, my boy, how doth the princess use thee? 
 For I shall guess her love to me by that. 
 
 Be/. Scarce like her servant, but as if I were 
 
 Something allied to her, or had preserved 170 
 
 Her life three times by my fidelity ; 
 As mothers fond do use their only sons, 
 As I 'd use one that 's left unto my trust, 
 For whom my life should pay if he met harm, 
 So she does use me. 
 
 P/ii. Why, this is wondrous well : 
 
 But what kind language does she feed thee with ? 
 
 Bel. 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 ; she'll see my services 180 
 
 Regarded : and such words of that soft strain, 
 That I am nearer weeping when she ends 
 Than ere she spake. 
 
 P/ii. This is much better still. 
 
 Bel. Are you not ill, my lord ? 
 
 F/a. 111? no, Bellario. 
 
 Bel. Methinks your words 
 
 56
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. i. 
 
 Fall not from off your tongue so evenly, 
 Nor is there in your looks that quietness 
 That I was wont to see. 
 
 riii. Thou art deceived, boy : 
 
 And she strokes thy head ? 
 
 Bel. Yes. 
 
 Phi. And she does clap thy cheeks? 
 
 Bel. She does, my lord. 
 
 PJii And she does kiss, thee boy? ha! 
 
 Bel. How, my lord ? 
 
 Phi. She kisses thee ? 
 
 Bel. Not so, my lord. 
 
 Phi. That 's strange ! — I know she does. 
 
 Bel. No, by my life. 
 
 Phi. Why then she does not love me. Come, she does. 
 I bade her do it ; I charged her, by all charms 194 
 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 shouldst enjoy her. Tell me, gentle boy 
 Is she not parallelless? is not her breath 
 Sweet as Arabian winds when fruits are ripe.'' 200 
 Are not her breasts two liquid ivory bails .? 
 Is she not all a lasting mine of joy.? 
 
 Bel. Ay, now I see why my disturbed thoughts 
 Were so perplexed : when first I went to her, 
 My heart held augury. You are abused ; 
 Some villain has abused you : I do see 
 57
 
 ACT III. sc. I. Philaster 
 
 Whereto you tend. Fall rocks upon his head 
 That put this to you ! 'tis some subtle 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 201 
 Than I love happiness, and placed thee there 
 To pry with narrow eyes into her deeds. 
 Hast thou discovered ? is she fallen to lust, 
 As I would wish her? Speak some comfort to 
 me. 
 
 Bel. 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 220 
 As servant to her, I would not reveal, 
 To make my Hfe last ages. 
 
 PJii. Oh, my heart ! 
 
 This is a salve worse than the main disease. 
 Tell me thy thoughts ; for I will know the least 
 
 {Draws his sword. 
 That dwells within thee, or will rip thy heart 
 To know it : I will see thy thoughts as plain 
 As I do now thy face. 
 
 Bel. Why, so you do. 
 
 She is (for aught I know) by all the gods, [Kneels. 
 As chaste as ice ! but were she foul as hell, 
 And I did know it thus, the breath of kings, 230 
 «;8
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. r. 
 
 The points of swords, tortures, nor bulls of brass, 
 
 Should draw it from me. 
 Phi. Then it is no time 
 
 To dally with thee ; I will take thy life, 
 
 For I do hate thee : I could curse thee now, 
 Bel. 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 1 Tell me when 
 
 And where thou didst enjoy her, or let plagues 
 
 Fall on me, if I destroy thee not ! 240 
 
 Bel. By Heaven I never did ; and when I lie 
 
 To save my life, may I live long and loathed ! 
 
 Hew me asunder, and, whilst I can think, 
 
 I '11 love those pieces you have cut away 
 
 Better than those that grow, and kiss those limbs 
 
 Because you made 'em so. 
 Phi. Fear'st thou not death? 
 
 Can boys contemn that ? 
 Bel. 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. 
 Bel. Yes, I do know, my lord : 251 
 
 'Tis less than to be born ; a lasting sleep ; 
 59
 
 ACT III. sc. 1. Philaster 
 
 A quiet resting from all jealousy, 
 
 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 perjured souls : think but on these, and then 
 Thy heart will melt, and thou wilt utter all. 
 
 Bel. May they fall all upon me whilst I live, 
 
 If I be perjured, or have ever thought 260 
 
 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. [^Sheathes his sword. 
 Rise, Bellario : \Bellario rises. 
 
 Thy protestations are so deep, and thou 
 Dost look so truly when thou utter'st them. 
 That, though I know 'em false as were my hopes, 
 I cannot urge thee further. But thou wert 270 
 
 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, whate'er thou dost : it troubles me 
 That I have called the blood out of thy cheeks. 
 That did so well become thee. But, good boy. 
 Let me not see thee more : something is done 
 60
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. =. 
 
 That will distract me, that will make me mad, 
 If I behold thee. If thou tender'st me, 
 Let me not see thee. 
 
 Bel. I will fly as far 280 
 
 As there is morning, ere I give distaste 
 To that most honoured mind. But through these 
 
 tears, 
 Shed at my hopeless parting, I can see 
 A world of treason practised upon you, 
 And her, and me. Farewell 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 memory, 
 And I shall rest at peace. 
 
 Phi. Blessing be with thee, 
 
 Whatever thou deserv'st ! {Exit Bellario.l — Oh, 
 where shall I 290 
 
 Go bathe this body? Nature too unkind. 
 That made no medicine for a troubled mind ! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 SCENE II 
 Ayeihusd!s Apartment in the Palace. 
 
 Enter Arethusa. 
 
 Are. I marvel my boy comes not back again : 
 But that I know my love will question him 
 61
 
 ACT III. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Over and over, — how I slept, v^^aked, talked, 
 How I remembered him when his dear name 
 Was last spoke, and how when I sighed, wept, sung, 
 And ten thousand such, — I should be angry at his 
 stay. 
 
 Enter Ki?ig. 
 
 Kmg. What, at 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. lo 
 
 King. What kind of boy ? 
 
 Are. A page, a waiting-boy. 
 
 Ki?ig. 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. 
 
 Ki?ig. About eighteen ? 
 
 Are. I never asked his age. 
 
 King. Is he full of service ? 
 
 Are. By your pardon, why do you ask ? 
 Ki7ig. Put him away. 
 Are, Sir ! 
 
 King. Put him away, I say. 
 
 H'as done you that good service shames me to 
 speak of. 20 
 
 62
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. ». 
 
 Are. Good sir, let me understand you. 
 
 Ki?tg. If you fear me, 
 
 Show 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. You're one 
 Shame with me, and so near unto myself, 
 That, by my life, I dare not tell myself 
 What you, myself, have done. 
 
 Are. What I have done, my lord? 
 
 King. 'Tis a new language, that all love to learn : 30 
 The common people speak it well already ; 
 They need no grammar. Understand me well ; 
 There be foul whispers stirring. Cast him off, 
 And suddenly : do it ! Farewell. {Exit. 
 
 Are Where may a maiden live securely free, 
 
 Keeping her honour fair ? Not with the living ; 
 
 They feed upon opinions, errors, dreams, 
 
 And make 'em truths ; they draw a nourishment 
 
 Out of defamings, grow upon disgraces ; 
 
 And, when they see a virtue fortified 40 
 
 Strongly above the battery of their tongues, 
 
 Oh, how they cast to sink it ! and, defeated 
 
 (Soul-sick with poison), strike the monuments 
 
 Where noble names lie sleeping, till they sweat, 
 
 And the cold marble melt.
 
 ACT III. sc. 2, Philaster 
 
 Enter Philaster. 
 
 Phi. Peace to your fairest thoughts, dearest mistress ! 
 
 Are. Ohj my dearest servant, I have a war within me ! 
 
 PJii. 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, 50 
 Your creature, made again from what I was 
 And newly-spirited, I '11 right your honour. 
 
 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? 
 
 Ai'c. They are jealous of him. 
 
 Phi. Jealous ! who ? 
 
 Are. The King. 
 
 Phi. Oh, my misfortune I 
 
 Then 'tis no idle jealousy. \Aside.'\ — Let him go. 
 
 Are. Oh, cruel I 
 
 Are you hard-hearted too ? who shall now tell you 
 How much I loved you ? who shall swear it to you, 
 And weep the tears I send ? who shall now bring 
 you 61 
 
 Letters, rings, bracelets ? lose his health in service? 
 Wake tedious nights in stories of your praise ? 
 64
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. a. 
 
 Who shall now 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 eyelids, making me dream, and cry, 
 
 * Oh, my dear, dear Philaster ! ' 
 
 Phi. Oh, my heart ! 
 
 Would he had broken thee, that made me know 
 This lady was not loyal ! \Aside.'\ — Mistress, 71 
 Forget the boy ; I '11 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, farewell for ever 
 All secrecy in servants ! Farewell faith, 
 And all desire to do well for itself ! 
 Let all that shall succeed thee for thy wrongs 
 Sell and betray chaste 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. 80 
 
 Phi. Oh, 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 ? 
 
 E 65
 
 ACT III. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Phi. For ever, Arethusa. Oh, you gods, 
 
 Give me a vi^orthy patience ! Have I stood 
 Naked, alone, the shock of many fortunes ? 
 Have I seen mischiefs numberless and mighty 
 Grow like a sea upon me ? Have I taken 90 
 
 Danger as stern as death into my bosom, 
 And laughed 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 woman's falsehood ? Oh, that boy, 
 That cursed boy ! None but a villain boy 
 To ease your lust ? 
 
 Are. Nay, then, I am betrayed ; 
 
 I feel the plot cast for my overthrow. 100 
 
 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 no 
 More hell than hell has ; how your tongues, like 
 scorpions, 
 
 66
 
 Philaster act hi, sc. 2. 
 
 Both heal and poison ; how your thoughts are 
 
 woven 
 With thousand changes in one subtle web, 
 And worn so by you ; how that foolish man, 
 That reads the story of a woman's face 
 And dies believing it, is lost for ever ; 
 How all the good you have is but a shadow, 
 r the 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 ; 120 
 How you are, being taken all together, 
 A mere 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, farewell all my woe, all my delight ! [Exit. 
 
 Are. Be merciful, ye gods, and strike me dead ! 
 
 What way have I deserved 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, 130 
 
 To find out constancy ? 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Save me, how black 
 And guiltily, methinks, that boy looks now ! 
 Oh, thou dissembler, that, before thou spak'st 
 Wert in thy cradle false, sent to make lies 
 67
 
 ACT III. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 And betray innocents ! Thy lord and thou 
 
 May glory in the ashes of a maid 
 
 Fooled 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 understood'st 140 
 
 The loathed office thou hast undergone, 
 
 Why, thou wouldst hide thee under heaps of hills, 
 
 Lest men should dig and find thee. 
 
 Bel. 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 hath struck his anger through my heart, 
 And let out all the hope of future joys. 
 You need not bid me fly ; I came to part, 150 
 
 To take my latest leave. Farewell 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 Bellario. 
 
 Ai'e. Peace guide thee 1 Thou hast overthrown me 
 once ; 
 
 68
 
 Philaster act hi. sc. 2. 
 
 Yet, if I had another Troy to lose, 160 ■ 
 
 Thou, or another villain with thy looks, 
 Might talk me out of it, and send me naked. 
 My hair dishevelled, through the fiery streets. 
 
 Enter a Lady. 
 
 Lady. Madam, the King would hunt, and calls for you 
 With earnestness. 
 
 Arc. 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 pursued by cruel hounds, 
 And have my story written in my wounds ! 170 
 
 \Exeunt. 
 
 69
 
 ACT IV. sc. 1. Philaster 
 
 ACT THE FOURTH 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 Before the Palace. 
 
 Enter King., Phara7?iond, Aretkusa, Galatea, Megra, 
 Dion, Cleremont, Thrasiline, ajid Attendants. 
 
 King. What, are the hounds before and all the wood- 
 men, 
 Our horses ready and our bows bent ? 
 
 Dion. All, sir. 
 
 King. You are cloudy, sir : come, we have forgotten 
 
 [^To Pharamond. 
 Your venial trespass ; let not that sit heavy 
 Upon your spirit ; here 's none dare utter it. 
 
 Dion. He looks like an old surfeited stallion after his 
 leaping, dull as a dormouse. See how he sinks ! 
 The Avench has shot him between wind and water, 
 and, I hope, sprung a leak. 9 
 
 Thra. He needs no teaching, he strikes sure enough : 
 his greatest fault is, he hunts too much in the 
 purlieus ; would he would leave off poaching ! 
 
 Dion. And for his horn, h'as left it at the lodge where 
 70
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. x, 
 
 he lay late. Oh, he 's a precious limehound ! turn 
 him loose upon the pursuit of a lady, and if he lose 
 her, hang him up i' the slip. When my fox-bitch 
 Beauty grows proud, I '11 borrow him. 17 
 
 King. Is your boy turned away ? 
 
 Are. You did command, sir, 
 
 And I obeyed you. 
 
 King. 'Tis well done. Hark ye further. 
 
 \They talk apart. 
 
 Cle. Is't possible this fellow should repent? methinks, 
 that were not noble in him ; and yet he looks like a 
 mortified member, as if he had a sick man's 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 blood with a 
 dog-whip. 27 
 
 Dion. See, see how modestly yon 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 ! 
 
 Tkra. Faith, 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. 
 
 Dion. See how they muster one another ! Oh, 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. 38 
 
 71
 
 ACT IV. sc. 1. Philaster 
 
 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 herself loose. As I live, she 
 has got her a goodly protection and a gracious ; and 
 may use her body discreetly for her health's sake, 
 once a week, excepting Lent and dog-days. Oh, if 
 they were to be got for money, what a large sum 
 would come out of the city for these licences ! 49 
 
 King. To horse, to horse ! we lose the morning, gentle- 
 men. \Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II 
 A Forest. 
 
 Enter two Woodmen. 
 
 First Wood. What, have you lodged the deer? 
 Second Wood. Yes, they are ready for the bow. 
 First Wood. Who shoots ? 
 Second Wood. The princess. 
 First Wood. No, she '11 hunt. 
 Second Wood. She '11 take a stand, I say. 
 First Wood. Who else ? 
 
 Second Wood. Why, the young stranger-prince. 
 72
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. %. 
 
 First Wood. He shall shoot in a stone-bow for me. I 
 never loved 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 dowcets ; marry, 
 his steward would have the velvet-head into the 
 bargain, to turf his hat withal. I think he should 
 love venery ; he is an old Sir Tristrem ; for, if you 
 be remembered, he forsook the stag once to strike 
 a rascal milking in a meadow, and her he killed in 
 the eye. Who shoots else ? 
 Second Wood. The Lady Galatea. 20 
 
 FtJ'-st Wood. That's a good wench, an she would not 
 chide us for tumbling of her women in the brakes. 
 She 's liberal, and, by the gods, they say she's honest ; 
 and whether that be a fault, I have nothing to do. 
 There 's all ? 
 Second Wood. No, one more ; Megra. 26 
 
 First Wood. That's a firkeri' faith, boy ; there 's a wench 
 will ride her haunches 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 herself three times in one afternoon 
 (if the woods have 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 pays well. 
 Hark ! let's go. [Exeunt. 
 
 73
 
 ACT IV. sc. a. Philaster 
 
 Enter Philaster. 
 
 Phi. Oh that I had been nourished in these woods 
 With milk of goats and acorns, and not known 
 The right of crowns nor the dissembling trains 
 Of women's looks ; but digged myself a cave 
 Where I, my fire, my cattle, and my bed, 40 
 
 Might have been shut together in one shed ; 
 And then had taken me some mountain-girl, 
 Beaten with winds, chaste as the hardened rocks 
 Whereon she dwelt, that might have strewed my bed 
 With leaves and reeds, and with the skins of beasts, 
 Our neighbours, and have borne at her big breasts 
 My large coarse issue 1 This had been a life 
 Free from vexation. 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Bel. Oh, wicked men ! 
 
 An innocent may walk safe among beasts ; 
 Nothing assaults me here. See, my grieved lord 
 Sits as his soul were searching out a way 51 
 
 To leave his body ! [Aside.] — Pardon me, that must 
 Break thy last commandment ; for I must speak : 
 You that are grieved can pity ; hear, my lord ! 
 
 Phi. Is there a creature yet so miserable, 
 That I can pity ? 
 
 Pel. Oh, my noble lord, 
 
 View my strange fortune, and bestow on me, 
 74
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. z. 
 
 According to your bounty (if my service 
 
 Can merit nothing), so much as may serve 
 
 To keep that little piece I hold of life 60 
 
 From cold and hunger ! 
 Phi. Is it thou? be gone ! 
 
 Go, sell those misbeseeming clothes thou wear^st, 
 
 And feed thyself with them. 
 Bel. Alas, my lord, I can get nothing for them I 
 
 The silly country-people think 'tis treason 
 
 To touch such gay things. 
 Phi. Now, by the gods, this is 
 
 Unkindly done, to vex me with thy sight. 
 
 Thou 'rt fallen again to thy dissembling trade : 
 
 How shouldst thou think to cozen me again? 
 
 Remains there yet a plague untried for me ? 70 
 
 Even so thou wept'st, and looked'st, and spok'st 
 when first 
 
 I took thee up : 
 
 Curse on the time ! If thy commanding tears 
 
 Can work on any other, use thy art ; 
 
 I '11 not betray it. Which way wilt thou take ? 
 
 That I may shun thee, for thine eyes are poison 
 
 To mine, and I am loath to grow in rage : 
 
 This way, or that way ? 
 Bel. Any will serve ; but I will choose to have 
 
 That path in chase that leads unto my grave. 80 
 
 {^Exeunt severally. 
 
 75
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Enter on one side Dion^ and on the other the two 
 Woodmen. 
 
 Dion. This is the strangest sudden chance ! You, 
 
 woodman 1 
 First Wood. My Lord Dion ? 
 Dion. Saw you a lady come this way on a sable horse 
 
 studded with stars of white ? 
 Second Wood. Was she not young and tall ? 
 Dion. Yes. Rode she to the wood or to the plain ? 
 Second Wood. Faith my lord, we saw none. 
 
 {Exeunt Woodmen. 
 Dion. Pox of your questions then ! 
 
 Enter Cleremont. 
 
 What, is she found ? 
 Cle. Nor will be, I think. 90 
 
 Dion. Let him seek his daughter himself. She cannot 
 
 stray about a little necessary natural business, but 
 
 the whole court must be in arms : when she has 
 
 done, we shall have peace. 
 C/^. There's already a thousand fatherless tales amongst 
 
 us. Some say, her horse ran away with her ; 
 
 some, a wolf pursued her ; others, it was a plot to 
 
 kill her, and that armed men were seen in the wood ; 
 
 but questionless she rode away willingly. 99 
 
 76
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. a. 
 
 Enter King^ Thraszline, and Attendants. 
 
 King. Where is she ? 
 
 Cle. Sir, I cannot tell. 
 
 King. How's that? 
 
 Answer me so again ! 
 Cle. Sir, shall I lie? 
 
 King. Yes, lie and damn, rather than tell me that. 
 
 I say again, where is she ? Mutter not ! — 
 
 Sir, speak you ; where is she ? 
 Dion. Sir, I do not know. 
 
 King. Speak that again so boldly, and, by Heaven, 
 
 It is thy last ! — You, fellows, answer me ; 
 
 Where is she ? Mark me, all ; I am your King : 
 
 I wish to see my daughter ; show her me ; 
 
 I do command you all, as you are subjects, 
 
 To show her me ! What ! am I not your King ? 
 
 If ay, then am I not to be obeyed ? in 
 
 Dion. Yes, if you command things possible and honest. 
 King. Things possible and honest ! Hear me, thou, 
 
 Thou traitor, that dar'st confine thy King to things 
 
 Possible and honest ! show her me, 
 
 Or, let me perish, if I cover not 
 
 All Sicily with blood ! 
 Dion. Faith I cannot. 
 
 Unless you tell me where she is. 
 King. You have betrayed me ; you have let me lose 
 
 n
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 The jewel of my life. Go, bring her to me, 120 
 
 And set her here before me : 'tis the King 
 Will have it so ; whose breath can still the winds, 
 Uncloud the sun, charm down the swelling sea, 
 And stop the floods of heaven. Speak, can it not ? 
 
 Dion. No. 
 
 King. No ! cannot the breath of kings do this ? 
 
 Dion. No ; nor smell sweet itself, if once the lungs 
 Be but corrupted. 
 
 King. Is it so? Take heed ! 
 
 Dioji. Sir, take you heed how you dare the powers 
 That must be just. 
 
 King. Alas ! what are we kings ! 130 
 
 Why do you gods place us above the rest, 
 To be ser^^ed, flattered, and adored, till we 
 Believe we hold within our hands your thunder, 
 And when we come to try the power we have. 
 There's not a leaf shakes at our threatenings ? 
 1 have sinned, 'tis true, and here stand to be 
 
 punished ; 
 Yet would not thus be punished ; let me choose 
 My way, and lay it on ! 138 
 
 Dion. He articles with the gods. Would somebody 
 would draw bonds for the performance of covenants 
 betwixt them ! \Aside. 
 
 Enter Pharamond^ Galatea^ and Megra. 
 
 King. What, is she found ? 
 
 78
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. a. 
 
 Pha. No ; we have ta'en her horse ; 142 
 
 He galloped empty by. There is some treason. 
 
 You, Galatea, rode with her into the wood ; 
 
 Why left you her t 
 Gal. She did command me. 
 
 King. Command ! you should not. 
 Gal. 'Twould ill become my fortunes and my birth 
 
 To disobey the daughter of my King. 
 King. You 're all cunning to obey us for our hurt ; 
 
 But I will have her. 
 Pha. If I have her not, 150 
 
 By this hand, there shall be no more Sicily. 
 Dion. What, will he carry it to Spain in 's pocket ? 
 
 {Aside. 
 Pha. I will not leave one man alive, but the King, 
 
 A cook, and a tailor. 
 Dion. Yet you may do well to spare your lady-bed- 
 fellow ; and her you may keep for a spawner. 
 
 \Aside. 
 King. I see 
 
 The injuries I have done must be revenged. \Aside. 
 Dion. Sir, this is not the way to find her out. 
 King. Run all, disperse yourselves. The man that finds 
 her, 160 
 
 Or (if she be killed), the traitor, I'll make him 
 great. 
 Dion. I know some would give five thousand pounds to 
 
 find her. \Aside. 
 
 79
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Pha. Come, let us seek. 
 
 King. Each man a several way ; 
 
 Here I myself. 
 Dion. Come, gentlemen, we here. 
 
 Cle. Lady, you must go search too. 
 Meg. I had rather be searched myself. 
 
 \Exeunt severally. 
 
 SCENE III 
 
 Afiother part of the Forest. 
 
 Enter Arethusa. 
 
 Are. Where am I now ? Feet, find me out a way. 
 Without the counsel of my troubled head : 
 I '11 follow you boldly about these woods, 
 O'er mountains, thorough brambles, pits, and floods. 
 Heaven, I hope, will ease me : I am sick. 
 
 \Sits down. 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Bel. Yonder 's my lady. God knows I want 
 Nothing, because I do not wish to live ; 
 Yet I will try her charity. [Aside.] — Oh hear, 
 You that have plenty ! from that flowing store 
 Drop some on dry ground. — See, the lively red lo 
 80
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. 3. 
 
 Is gone to guard her heart ! I fear she faints. — 
 Madam ? look up ! — She breathes not. — Open once 
 
 more 
 Those rosy twins, and send unto my lord 
 Your latest farewell ! — Oh, she stirs. — How is it, 
 Madam ? speak comfort. 
 Are. 'Tis not gently done, 
 
 To put me in a miserable life, 
 And hold me there : I prithee, let me go ; 
 I shall do best without thee ; I am well. 
 
 Enter Philaster. 
 
 Phi. I am to blame to be so much in rage : 
 
 I '11 tell her coolly when and where I heard 20 
 
 This killing truth. I will be temperate 
 
 In speaking, and as just in hearing. — 
 
 Oh, monstrous ! Tempt me not, ye gods ! good 
 
 gods. 
 Tempt not a frail man ! What 's he, that has a 
 
 heart, 
 But he must ease it here ! 
 
 Bel. My lord, help, help ! 
 
 The princess ! 
 
 Are. I am well : forbear. 
 
 Phi. Let me love lightning, let me be embraced 
 And kissed by scorpions, or adore the eyes 
 Of basilisks, rather than trust the tongues 29 
 
 F 81
 
 ACT IV. sc. 3. Philaster 
 
 Of hell-bred women ! Some good god look down, 
 And shrink these veins up ; stick me here a stone, 
 Lasting to ages in the memory 
 Of this damned act ! 
 
 Hear me, you wicked ones ! [AszWe. 
 You have put hills of fire into this breast, 
 Not to be quenched with tears j for which may 
 
 guilt 
 Sit on your bosoms ! at your meals and beds 
 Despair await you ! What, before my face ? 
 Poison of asps between your lips ! diseases 
 Be your best issues ! Nature make a curse, 
 And throw it on you ! 
 
 Are. Dear Philaster, leave 40 
 
 To be enraged, and hear me. 
 
 P/ii. I have done ; 
 
 Forgive my passion. Not the calmed sea, 
 When ^olus locks up his windy brood. 
 Is less disturbed than I : I '11 make you know it. 
 Dear Arethusa, do but take this sword, 
 
 [O^ers his drawn sword. 
 And search how temperate a heart I have ; 
 Then you and this your boy may live and reign 
 In lust without control. Wilt thou, Bellario ? 
 I prithee kill me ; thou art poor, and ma/st 
 Nourish ambitious thoughts ; when I am dead, 50 
 Thy way were freer. Am I raging now ? 
 If I were mad, I should desire to live. 
 82
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. 3. 
 
 Sir, feel my pulse, whether have you known 
 A man in a more equal tune to die. 
 
 Bel. Alas, my lord, your pulse keeps madman's time ! 
 So does your tongue. 
 
 PJii. You will not kill me, then ? 
 
 A7'e. Kill you ! 
 
 Bel. Not for the world. 
 
 Phi. I blame not thee, 
 
 Bellario : thou hast done but that which gods 
 Would have transformed themselves to do. Be gone, 
 Leave me without reply ; this is the last 60 
 
 Of all our meeting — {Exit Bellario^ Kill me with 
 
 this sword ; 
 Be wise, or worse will follow : we are two 
 Earth cannot bear at once. Resolve to do, 
 Or suffer. 
 
 Are. If my fortune be so good to let me fall 
 
 Upon thy hand, I shall have peace in death. 
 
 Yet tell me this, there will be no slanders, 
 
 No jealousy in the other world ; no ill there? 
 
 Phi. No. 
 
 Are. Show me, then, the way. 
 
 Phi. Then guide my feeble hand, 
 
 You that have power to do it, for I must 70 
 
 Perform a piece of justice ! — If your youth 
 Have any way offended Heaven, let prayers 
 Short and effectual reconcile you to it. 
 
 Are. I am prepared.
 
 ACT IV. sc. 3. Philaster 
 
 Enter a Country Fellow. 
 
 C. Fell. I '11 see the King, if he be in the forest ; I have 
 hunted him these two hours ; if I should come 
 home and not see him, my sisters would laugh at 
 me. I can see nothing but people better horsed 
 than myself, that out-ride me ; I can hear nothing 
 but shouting. These kings had need of good 
 brains ; this whooping is able to put a mean man 
 out of his wits. There's a courtier with his sword 
 drawn ; by this hand, upon a woman, I think ! 2)'^ 
 
 Phi. Are you at peace ? 
 
 Are. With heaven and earth. 
 
 Phi. May they divide thy soul and body ! {^Wounds her. 
 
 C. Fell. Hold, dastard ! strike a woman ! Thou 'rt a 
 craven, I warrant thee : thou wouldst be loth to 
 play half a dozen venies at wasters with a good 
 fellow for a broken head. 90 
 
 Phi. Leave us, good friend. 
 
 Are. What ill-bred man art thou, to intrude thyself 
 Upon our private sports, our recreations? 
 
 C. Fell. God 'uds me, I understand you not ; but I 
 know the rogue has hurt you. 
 
 Phi. Pursue thy ovm affairs : it will be ill 
 
 To multiply blood upon my head, which thou 
 Wilt force me to. 
 
 C. Fell. I know not your rhetoric ; but I can lay it on, 
 if you touch the woman. 100 
 
 Phi. Slave, take what thou deservest ! \They fight. 
 
 84
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. 3. 
 
 Are. Heavens guard my lord ! 
 
 C. Fell. Oh, do you breathe ? 
 
 Phi. I hear the tread of people. I am hurt : 
 
 The gods take part against me : could this boor 
 Have held me thus else ? I must shift for life, 
 Though I do loathe it. I would find a course 
 To lose it rather by my will than force. 
 
 \_Aslde a?td exit. 
 
 C. Fell. I cannot follow the rogue. I pray thee, wench, 
 come and kiss me now. 
 
 Enter Pharamond, Dion, Cleremont, Thrasiline, 
 and Woodmen. 
 
 Pha. What art thou? 110 
 
 C. Fell. Almost killed I am for a foolish woman ; a 
 
 knave has hurt her. 
 Pha. The princess, gentlemen! — Where's the wound, 
 
 madam ? Is it dangerous "i 
 Are. He has not hurt me. 
 C. Fell. By God, she lies ; h'as hurt her in the breast ; 
 
 look else. 
 Pha. O, sacred spring of innocent blood ! 
 Dion. 'Tis above wonder ! who should dare this ? 
 Are. I felt it not. 120 
 
 Pha. Speak, villain, who has hurt the princess ? 
 C. Fell. Is it the princess ? 
 
 85
 
 ACT IV. sc. 3. Philaster 
 
 Dion. Ay. 
 
 C. Fell. Then I have seen something yet. 
 
 Pha. But who has hurt her ? 
 
 C. Fell. I told you, a rogue ; I ne'er saw him before, I — 
 
 Pha. Madam, who did it .? 
 
 Are. Some dishonest wretch ; 
 
 Alas, I know him not, and do forgive him ! 
 C. Fell. He's hurt too ; he cannot go far; I made my 
 
 father's old fox fly about his ears. 130 
 
 Pha. How will you have me kill him ? 
 Are. Not at all ; 
 
 'Tis some distracted fellow. 
 Pha. By this hand, 
 
 I '11 leave ne'er a piece of him bigger than a nut, 
 
 And bring him all to you in my hat. 
 Are. Nay, good sir, 
 
 If you do take him, bring him quick to me. 
 
 And I will study for a punishment 
 
 Great as his fault. 
 Pha. I will. 
 
 Are. But swear. 
 
 Pha. By all my love, I will. — 
 
 Woodmen, conduct the princess to the King, 
 
 And bear that wounded fellow to dressing. — 140 
 
 Come, gentlemen, we '11 follow the chase close. 
 \Exeunt on one side Pharamond, Dion, Cleremont^ 
 and Thrasiline ; exit o?t the other Arethicsay 
 attended by the First Woodman. 
 86
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. 4. 
 
 C. Fell. I pray you, friend, let me see the King. 
 Second Wood. That you shall, and receive thanks. 
 C. Fell. If I get clear of this, I '11 go to see no more gay 
 sights. {Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV 
 
 Another part of the Forest. 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Bel. A heaviness near death sits on my brow. 
 
 And I must sleep. Bear me, thou gentle bank. 
 For ever, if thou wilt. You sweet ones all, 
 
 \Lies down. 
 Let me unworthy press you ; I could wish 
 I rather were a corse strewed o'er with you 
 Than quick above you. Dulness shuts mine eyes, 
 And I am giddy : oh that I could take 
 So sound a sleep that I might never wake ! [Sleeps. 
 
 Enter Philaster. 
 
 Phi. I have done ill ; my conscience calls me false, 
 
 To strike at her that would not strike at me. 10 
 
 When I did fight, methought I heard her pray 
 The gods to guard me. She may be abused, 
 And I a loathed villain : if she be. 
 She will conceal who hurt her. He has wounds 
 87
 
 ACT IV. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 And cannot follov/ ; neither knows he 
 
 Who 's this ? Bellario sleeping ! If thou be'st 
 Guilty, there is no justice that thy sleep 
 Should be so sound, and mine, whom thou hast 
 wronged, [Cry within. 
 
 So broken. Hark! I am pursued. You gods, 
 I '11 take this offered means of my escape : 20 
 
 They have no mark to know me but my wounds, 
 If she be true ; if false, let mischief hght 
 On all the world at once ! Sword, print my wounds 
 Upon this sleeping boy ! I have none, I think, 
 Are mortal, nor would I lay greater on thee. 
 
 [ Wounds Bellario. 
 
 Bel. Oh, death, I hope, is come ! Blest be that hand ! 
 It meant me well. Again, for pity's sake ! 
 
 Phi. I have caught myself; \Falls. 
 
 The loss of blood hath stayed my flight. Here, 
 
 here, 
 Is he that struck thee : take thy full revenge ; 30 
 Use me, as I did mean thee, worse than death ; 
 I '11 teach thee to revenge. This luckless hand 
 Wounded the princess ; tell my followers 
 Thou didst receive these hurts in staying me, 
 And I will second thee ; get a reward. 
 
 Bel. Fly, fly, my lord, and save yourself ! 
 
 Phi. How's this? 
 
 Wouldst thou I should be safe ? 
 
 Bel. Else were it vain 
 
 88
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. 4. 
 
 For me to live. These little wounds I have 
 Have not bled much : reach me that noble hand ; 
 I '11 help to cover you. 
 
 Phi. Art thou true to me ? 40 
 
 Bel. Or let me perish loathed ! Come, my good lord. 
 Creep in amongst those bushes : who does know 
 But that the gods may save your much-loved 
 breath ? 
 
 Phi. Then I shall die for grief, if not for this, 
 
 That I have wounded thee. What wilt thou do? 
 
 Bel. Shift for myself well. Peace ! I hear 'em come. 
 
 \Philaster creeps into a bush. 
 [Voices wilhin.'] Follow, follow, follow! that way 
 they went. 
 
 Bel. With my own wounds I '11 bloody my own sword. 
 I need not counterfeit to fall ; Heaven knows 49 
 That I can stand no longer, [Falls. 
 
 and Thrasiline. 
 
 Pha. To this place we have tracked him by his blood. 
 
 Cle. Yonder, my lord, creeps one away. 
 
 Dion. Stay, sir ! what are you ? 
 
 Bel. A wretched creature, wounded in these woods 
 
 By beasts : relieve me, if your names be men, 
 
 Or I shall perish. 
 Dion. This is he, my lord, 
 
 89
 
 ACT IV. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 Upon my soul, that hurt her : 'tis the boy, 
 That wicked boy, that served her. 
 
 Pha. Oh, thou damned 
 
 In thy creation ! what cause couldst thou shape 
 To hurt the princess ? 
 
 Bel. Then I 'm betrayed. 60 
 
 Dion. Betrayed ! no, apprehended. 
 
 Bel. I confess 
 
 (Urge it no more) that, big with evil thoughts, 
 I set upon her, and did make my aim, 
 Her death. For charity let fall at once 
 The punishment you mean, and do not load 
 This weary flesh with tortures. 
 
 Pha. I will know 
 
 Who hired thee to this deed. 
 
 Bel. Mine own revenge. 
 
 Pha. Revenge ! for what ? 
 
 Bel. It pleased her to receive 
 
 Me as her page, and, when my forluies ebbed. 
 That men strid o'er them careless, she did shower 
 Her welcome graces on me, and did swell 71 
 
 My fortunes till they overflowed their banks, 
 Threatening the men that crossed 'em ; when, as 
 
 swift 
 As storms arise at sea, she turned her eyes 
 To burning suns upon me, and did dry 
 The streams she had bestowed, leaving me worse 
 And more contemned than other little brooks, 
 90
 
 Philaster act iv. sc 4. 
 
 Because I had been great. In short, I knew 
 I could not live, and therefore did desire 
 To die revenged. 
 
 PJia. If tortures can be found 80 
 
 Long as thy natural life, resolve to feel 
 The utmost rigour. 
 
 Cle. Help to lead him hence. 
 
 {^Philaster creeps out of the dusk. 
 
 Phi. Turn back, you ravishers of innocence ! 
 Know ye the price of that you bear away 
 So rudely ? 
 
 Pha. Who's that? 
 
 Dion. 'Tis the Lord Philaster. 
 
 Phi. 'Tis not the treasure of all kings in one, 
 The wealth of Tagus, nor the rocks of pearl 
 That pave the court of Neptune, can weigh down 
 That virtue. It was I that hurt the princess. 
 Place me, some god, upon a pyramis 9a 
 
 Higher than hills of earth, and lend a voice 
 Loud as your thunder to me, that from thence 
 I may discourse to all the under-world 
 The worth that dwells in him ! 
 
 Pha. How's this? 
 
 Bel. My lord, some man 
 
 Weary of life, that would be glad to die. 
 
 Phi. Leave these untimely courtesies, Bellario. 
 
 Bel. Alas, he 's mad ! Come, will you lead me on ? 
 
 Phi. By all the oaths that men ought most to keep, 
 91
 
 ACT IV. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 And gods do punish most when men do break, 
 He touched her not. — Take heed, Bellario, 100 
 
 How thou dost drown the virtues thou hast shown 
 With perjury. — By all the gods, 'twas I ! 
 You know she stood betwixt me and my right. 
 
 Pha. Thy own tongue be thy judge ! 
 
 Cle. It was Philaster. 
 
 Dion. Is 't not a brave boy ? 
 
 Well, sirs, I fear me we were all deceived. 
 
 Phi. Have I no friend here ? 
 
 Dion. Yes. 
 
 Phi. Then show it : some 
 
 Good body lend a hand to draw us nearer. 
 Would you have tears shed for you when you die ? 
 Then lay me gently on his neck, that there 1 10 
 
 I may weep floods and breathe forth my spirit. 
 'Tis not the wealth of Plutus, nor the gold 
 
 [Embraces Bellario. 
 Locked in the heart of earth, can buy away 
 This arm-full from me : this had been a ransom 
 To have redeemed the great Augustus Caesar, 
 Had he been taken. You hard-hearted men, 
 More stony than these mountains, can you see 
 Such clear pure blood drop, and not cut your flesh 
 To stop his life ; to bind whose bitter wounds, 119 
 Queens ought to tear their hair, and with their tears 
 Bathe 'em. — Forgive me, thou that art the wealth 
 Of poor Philaster ! 
 
 92
 
 Philaster act iv. sc. 4. 
 
 Enter King^ Arethusa^ and Guard. 
 
 King. Is the villain ta'en? 
 
 Pha. Sir, here be two confess the deed ; but say 
 
 It was Philaster. 
 Phi. Question it no more ; 
 
 It was. 
 King. The fellow that did fight with him, 
 
 Will tell us that. 
 Are. Ay me ! I know he will. 
 
 King. Did not you know him 1 
 Are. Sir, if it was he, 
 
 He was disguised. 
 Phi. I was so. Oh^ my stars, 
 
 That I should live still. [Aside. 
 
 King. Thou ambitious fool. 
 
 Thou that hast laid a train for thy own life I — 130 
 
 Now I do mean to do, I '11 leave to talk. 
 
 Bear them to prison. 
 Are. Sir, they did plot together to take hence 
 
 This harmless life ; should it pass unrevenged, 
 
 I should to earth go weeping : grant me, then, 
 
 By all the love a father bears his child, 
 
 Their custodies, and that I may appoint 
 
 Their tortures and their deaths. 
 Dion. Death ! Soft ; our law will not reach that for 
 this fault. 
 
 93
 
 ACT IV. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 King. 'Tis granted ; take 'em to you with a guard. — 140 
 Come, princely Pharamond, this business past, 
 We may uith more security go on 
 To your intended match, 
 
 \Exeunt all except Dion, Cleremoni, and Thrasiline. 
 Cle. I pray that this action lose not Philaster the hearts 
 
 of the people. 
 Dion, Fear it not ; their over- wise heads will think it 
 but a trick. {Exeunt. 
 
 94
 
 Philaster act v. sc. a. 
 
 ACT THE FIFTH 
 SCENE I 
 
 Before the Palace. 
 
 E7iter Dion^ Cleremont^ and Thrasiline, 
 
 Thra. Has the King sent for him to death ? 
 
 Dion. Yes ; but the King must know 'tis not in his 
 
 power to war with Heaven. 
 Cle. We Hnger time ; the King sent for Philaster and 
 
 the headsman an hour ago. 
 Thra. Are all his wounds well ? 
 Dion. All ; they were but scratches ; but the loss of 
 
 blood made him faint. 
 Cle. We dally, gentlemen. 
 
 Thra. h.\\2i^ ! lo 
 
 Dio7t. We '11 scuffle hard before he perish. \Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE H 
 
 A Prison. 
 
 E?tter Philaster^ Arethusa, and Bellario. 
 
 Are. Nay, faith, Philaster, grieve not ; we are well. 
 Bel. Nay, good my lord, forbear ; we are wondrous well. 
 95
 
 ACT V. sc. 2. Philaster 
 
 Phi. Oh, Arethusa, oh, 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, show it me, lo 
 
 And then forget me ! and for thee, my boy, 
 I shall deliver words will mollify 
 The hearts of beasts to spare thy innocence. 
 
 Bel. Alas, my lord, my life is not a thing 
 
 Worthy your noble thoughts ! 'tis not a life, 
 
 'Tis but a piece of childhood throAvn away. 
 
 Should I outlive you, I should then outlive 
 
 Virtue and honour ; and when that day comes. 
 
 If ever I shall close these eyes but once, 
 
 May I live spotted for my perjury, 20 
 
 And waste by limbs to nothing ! 
 
 Are. And I (the woful'st maid that ever was, 
 
 Forced 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 loathed. 
 Enjoy your kingdoms peaceably, whilst I 
 96
 
 Philaster act v. sc. a. 
 
 For ever sleep forgotten with my faults : 30 
 
 Every just servant, every maid in love, 
 
 Will have a piece of me, if you be true. 
 Are. My dear lord, say not so. 
 Bel. A piece of you! 
 
 He was not born of woman 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. 
 
 Bel. Lament no more. 
 Phi. Why, what would you have done 
 
 If you had wronged me basely, and had found 39 
 
 Your life no price compared to mine 1 for love, sirs, 
 
 Deal with me truly. 
 Bel, Twas mistaken, sir. 
 
 Phi. Why, if it were ? 
 Bel, Then, sir, we would have asked 
 
 Your pardon. 
 Phi. And have hope to enjoy it ? 
 
 Are. Enjoy it ! ay. 
 
 Phi. Would you indeed ? be plain. 
 
 Bel. We would, my lord. 
 Phi. Forgive me, then. 
 
 Are. So, so. 
 
 Bel. 'Tis as it should be now. 
 Phi. Lead to my death. [Exeunf, 
 
 97
 
 ACT V. sc. 3. Philaster 
 
 SCENE III 
 A State-room in the Palace. 
 
 Ejtter King^ Dion^ Cleremont^ Thrasili7ie^ and 
 Attendants. 
 
 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. \^Exit Thrasiline. 
 
 Dion. King, you may be deceived yet : 
 
 The head you aim at cost more setting on 
 Than to be lost so lightly. If it must off. 
 Like a wild overflow, that swoops before him 
 A golden stack, and with it shakes down bridges, 10 
 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 lays 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 ruins. {Aside. 
 
 98
 
 Philaster act v. sc. 3. 
 
 Enter Arethusa, Philaster, Bellario in a robe ajid 
 garland, and Thrasiline. 
 
 King. How now ? what masque is this ? 
 
 Bel. Right royal sir, I should 20 
 
 Sing you an epithalamium of these lovers, 
 But having lost my best airs 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 lairs, and slept 
 Free from the fervour of the Sirian star 
 And the fell thunder-stroke, free from the clouds, 30 
 When they were big with humour, and delivered. 
 In thousand spouts their issues to the earth ; 
 Oh, there was none but silent there ! 
 Till never-pleased Fortune shot up shrubs, 
 Base under-brambles, to divorce these branches ; 
 And for a while they did so, and did reign 
 Over the mountain, and choke up his beauty 
 With brakes, rude thorns and thistles, till the sun 
 Scorched them even to the roots and dried them 
 
 there : 
 And now a gentle gale hath blown again, 40 
 
 That made these branches meet and twine together, 
 99
 
 ACT V. sc. 3. Philaster 
 
 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 now there is no masquing in 't), this gentleman, 
 The prisoner that you gave me, is become 
 My keeper, and through all the bitter throes 
 Your jealousies and his ill fate have wrought him, 
 Thus nobly hath he struggled, and at length 51 
 
 Arrived here my dear husband. 
 
 King. Your dear husband ! — 
 
 Call in the Captain of the Citadel. — 
 There you shall keep your wedding. I '11 provide 
 A masque shall make your Hymen turn his saffron 
 Into a sullen coat, and sing sad requiems 
 To your departing souls ; 
 
 Blood shall put out your torches ; and, instead 
 Of gaudy flowers about your wanton necks, 
 An axe shall hang like a prodigious meteor, 60 
 
 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 
 Chafed among dogs or robbed of his dear young, 
 The same, enforced more terrible, more mighty, 
 Expect from me I 
 
 100
 
 Philaster act v. sc. 3. 
 
 Are, Sir, by that little life I have left to swear by, 
 There 's nothing that can stir me from myself. 
 What I have done, I have done without repentance, 
 For death can be no bugbear unto me, 71 
 
 So long as Pharamond is not my headsman. 
 
 Dion. Sweet peace upon thy soul, thou worthy maid, 
 Whene'er thou diest ! For this time I '11 excuse 
 
 thee, 
 Or be thy prologue. \Aside. 
 
 Phi. Sir, let me speak next ; 
 
 And let my dying words be better with you 
 Than my dull living actions. If you aim 
 At the dear life of this sweet innocent, 
 You are a tyrant and a savage monster. 
 That feeds upon the blood you gave a life to ; 80 
 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 murder : 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, 90 
 That only clothes my ashes, not my faults. 
 Shall far outshine it. And for after-issues. 
 Think not so madly of the heavenly wisdoms, 
 loi
 
 ACT V. sc. 3. Philaster 
 
 That they will give you more for your mad rage 
 
 To cut off, unless it be some snake, or something 
 
 Like yourself, that in his birth shall strangle you. 
 
 Remember my father, King ! there was a fault, 
 
 But I forgive it : let that sin persuade you 
 
 To love this lady ; if you have a soul. 
 
 Think, save her, and be saved. For myself, roo 
 
 I have so long expected this glad hour, 
 
 So languished under you, and daily withered. 
 
 That, by the gods, it is a joy to die ; 
 
 I find a recreation in 't. 
 
 Enter a Gentleman. 
 
 Ge7it. Where is the King ? 
 
 King. Here. 
 
 Gent. Get you to your strength. 
 
 And rescue the Prince Pharamond from danger ; 
 He 's taken prisoner by the citizens. 
 Fearing the Lord Philaster. 
 
 Dion. Oh, brave followers ! 
 
 Mutiny, my fine dear countrymen, mutiny ! 109 
 
 Now, my brave valiant foremen, shew your weapons 
 In honour of your mistresses ! \Aside' 
 
 Enter a Second Gentleman. 
 
 Second Gent. Arm, arm, arm I 
 
 King. A thousand devils take 'em ! 
 102
 
 Philaster act v. sc. 3. 
 
 Dion. A thousand blessings on 'em ! \Aside. 
 
 Second Gent. Arm, O King ! The city is in mutiny, 
 Led by an old grey ruffian, who comes on 
 In rescue of the Lord Philaster. 
 
 King. Away to the citadel ! I '11 see them safe, 
 
 And then cope with these burghers. Let the 
 
 guard 
 And all the gentlemen give strong attendance. 
 
 {Exeunt all except Dioft^ Cleremont, 
 and Thrasiline, 
 
 Cle. The city up ! this was above our wishes. 120 
 
 Dion. Ay, and the marriage too. By my life. 
 This noble lady has deceived us all. 
 A plague upon myself, a thousand plagues. 
 For having such unworthy thoughts of her dear 
 
 honour ! 
 Oh, I could beat myself ! or do you beat me. 
 And I '11 beat you ; for we had all one thought. 
 
 Cle. No, no, 'twill but lose time. 
 
 Dion. You say true. Are your swords sharp? — Well, 
 my dear countrymen What-ye-lacks, if you continue, 
 and fall not back upon the first broken shin, I '11 
 have you chronicled and chronicled, and cut and 
 chronicled, and all-to-be-praised and sung in sonnets, 
 and bawled in new brave ballads, that all tongues 
 shall troul you in scEcula scBculoruin^ my kind can- 
 carriers. 135 
 
 Thra. What, if a toy take 'em i' the heels now, and 
 103
 
 ACT V. SC. 3. 
 
 Philaster 
 
 they run all away, and cry, ' The devil take the hind- 
 most ' ? 
 Dion. Then the same devil take the foremost too, and 
 souse him for his breakfast ! If they all prove 
 cowards, my curses fly amongst them, and be 
 speeding ! May they have murrains reign to keep 
 the gentlemen at home unbound in easy frieze ! 
 may the moths branch their velvets, and their silks 
 only to 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 mewed 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 goatish 
 Latin they write in their bonds— and may they write 
 that false, and lose their debts 1 154 
 
 Re-enter King. 
 
 King. Now the vengeance of all the gods confound 
 them ! How they swarm together ! what a hum 
 they raise ! — Devils choke your wild throats ! If 
 a man had need to use their valours, he must pay a 
 brokage for it, and then bring 'em on, and 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, 
 104
 
 Philaster act v. sc. 3. 
 
 dear friend, and bring the Lord Philaster ! speak 
 him fair ; call him prince ; do him all the courtesy 
 you can ; commend me to him. Oh, my wits, my 
 wits ! [ExU Clereino'tit. 
 
 Dion. 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 '11 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. \_Aside. 
 
 King. What they will do with this poor prince, the gods 
 know, and I fear. 174 
 
 Dion. Why, sir, they'll flay him, and make church- 
 buckets of 's skin, to quench rebellion ; then clap a 
 rivet in 's sconce, and hang him up for a sign. 
 
 Enter Philaster and Cleremont. 
 
 King. Oh, worthy sir, forgive me ! do not make 
 Your miseries and my faults meet together, 
 To bring a greater danger. Be yourself, 180 
 
 Still sound amongst diseases. I have wronged 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 bom to : take your love, 
 And with her my repentance, all my wishes 
 And all my prayers. By the gods, my heart speaks 
 this ; 
 
 105
 
 ACT V. sc. 3. Philaster 
 
 And if the least fall from me not performed, 
 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 190 
 Of this mad sea-breach, which I '11 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 you peace. 
 Or never bring myself back. 
 
 Ki7ig. All the gods go with thee. \Exeunt 
 
 SCENE IV 
 
 A Street. 
 
 Enter an old Captain and Citizens with Pharainond 
 prisoner. 
 
 Cap. Come, my brave myrmidons, let us fall on. 
 
 Let our caps swarm, my boys, and your nimble 
 
 tongues 
 Forget your mother-gibberish of ' what do you lack,' 
 And set your mouths ope, children, till your palates 
 Fall frighted half a fathom past the cure 
 Of bay-salt and gross pepper, and then cry 
 ic6
 
 Philaster act v. sc. 4. 
 
 ' Philaster, brave Philaster ! ' Let Philaster 
 Be deeper in request, my ding-a-dings. 
 My pairs of dear indentures, kings of clubs. 
 Than your cold water-camlets, or your paintings 
 Spitted with copper. Let not your hasty silks, 10 
 Or your branched cloth of bodkin, or your tissues, 
 Dearly beloved 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-piled spirits, your wrought 
 
 valours ; 
 And let your uncut cholers make the King feel 
 The measure of your mightiness. Philaster ! 
 Cry, my rose-nobles, cry ! 
 
 All. Philaster! Philaster! 
 
 Ca^. How do you like this, my lord-prince ? 20 
 
 These are mad boys, I tell you ; these are things 
 That will not strike their top-sails to a foist, 
 And let a man-of-war, an argosy, 
 Hull and cry cockles. 
 
 F^a. 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 bug's-words, or that soldered crown 
 Shall be scratched with a musket. Dear prince 
 
 Pippin, 
 Down with your noble blood, or, as I live, 30 
 
 107
 
 ACT V. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 I '11 have you coddled. — Let him loose, my spirits: 
 Make us a round ring with your bills, my Hectors, 
 And let me see what this trim man dares do. 
 Now, sir, have at you ! here I lie ; 
 And with this swashing blow (do you see, sweet 
 
 prince ?) 
 I could hulk your grace, and hang you up cross- 
 legged, 
 Like a hare at a poulter's, and do this with this 
 wiper. 
 PJia. You will not see me murdered, wicked villains ? 
 First at. Yes, indeed, will we, sir ; we have not seen one 
 
 For a great while. 
 Cap. He would have weapons, would he ? 
 
 Give him a broadside, my brave boys, with your 
 pikes ; 41 
 
 Branch me his skin in flowers like a satin, 
 And between every flower a mortal cut. — 
 Your royalty shall ravel ! — Jag him, gentlemen ; 
 I '11 have him cut to the kell, then doAvn the seams. 
 Oh for a whip to make him galloon-laces ! 
 I '11 have a coach-whip. 
 Pha. Oh, spare me, gentlemen ! 
 
 Cap. Hold, hold; 
 
 The man begins to fear and know himself ; 
 He shall for this time only be seeled up, 50 
 
 With a feather through his nose, that he may only 
 See heaven, and think whither he is going. Nay, 
 108
 
 Philaster act v. sc. 4. 
 
 Nay, my beyond-sea sir, we will proclaim you : 
 
 You would be king I 
 
 Thou tender heir- apparent to a church-ale, 
 
 Thou slight prince of single sarcenet, 
 
 Thou royal ring-tail, fit to fly at nothing 
 
 But poor men's poultry, and have every boy 
 
 Beat thee from that too with his bread and butter ! 
 Pha. Gods keep me from these hell-hounds ! 60 
 
 First at. 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. 
 First Cit. I '-11 have a leg, that 's certain. 
 Second Cit. I '11 have an arm. 
 Third Cit. I'll have his nose, and at mine own charge 
 
 build a college and clap it upon the gate. 
 Fourth Cit. I '11 have his little gut to string a kit with : 
 
 For certainly a royal gut will sound like silver. 71 
 Pha. Would they were in thy belly, and I past 
 
 My pain once ! 
 Fifth 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 tortured. 
 First Cit. Captain, I '11 give you the trimming of your 
 two-hand sword, 79 
 
 And let m.e have his skin to make false scabbards. 
 109
 
 ACT V. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 Second Cit. He had no horns, sir, had he? 
 Cap. No, sir, he's a pollard: 
 
 What wouldst thou do with horns ? 
 Second Cit. Oh, if he had 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 Rosicleer, 
 
 We are thy myrmidons, thy guard, thy roarers ; 90 
 And when thy noble body is in durance, 
 Thus do we clap our musty m.urrions on. 
 And trace the streets in terror. 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, a-tilt, 
 And run even to the lees of honour. 
 
 Phi. Hold, and be satisfied : I am myself; 100 
 
 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
 
 Philaster a.ct v. sc. 4. 
 
 Kiss their gummed golls, and cry * We are your ser- 
 vants ' ? 
 Is the court navigable, and the presence stuck 
 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. no 
 
 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 cannibals, and, as I live, 
 I '11 quit this land for ever. There is nothing, — 
 Perpetual prisonment, cold, hunger, sickness 
 Of all sorts, of 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, — 120 
 
 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 '11 warrant you 
 I shall be old enough to find my safety. 
 
 Third Cit. Good sir, take heed he does not hurt you • 
 He is a fierce man, I can tell you, sir. 
 
 Cap. Prince, by your leave, I '11 have a surcingle, 
 
 And make you like a hawk. 130 
 
 Phi. Away, away, there is no danger in him : 
 III
 
 ACT V. sc. 4. Philaster 
 
 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 needs 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 shal have your wishes : 
 To give you more thanks, were to flatter you. 
 Continue still your love ; and, for an earnest, 140 
 Drink this. [Gives money. 
 
 All. Long may'st thou live, brave prince, brave prince, 
 brave prince ! \Exeunt Philaster and Pharaviond. 
 
 Cap. Go thy ways, thou art the king of courtesy 1 
 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 muffs. We will have music ; 
 And the red grape shall make us dance and rise, 
 boys. \Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V 
 
 An Apart7nent in the Palace. 
 
 Enter King, Arethusa, Galatea, Megra, Dion, Clers- 
 mont, Tkrasiline, Bellario, and Attendants. 
 
 Ki?ig. Is it appeased? 
 Dion. Sir, all is quiet as this dead of night, 
 112
 
 Philaster act v. sc. s 
 
 As peaceable as sleep. My lord Philaster 
 Brings on the prince himself. 
 King. Kind gentleman ! 
 
 I will not break the least word I have given 
 In promise to him : I have heaped 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 I 
 
 Blest be the time that I have leave to call 
 Such virtue mine ! Now thou art in mine arms, lo 
 Methinks 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 vex^d 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 redeemed, you have full leave 20 
 
 To make an honourable voyage home. 
 
 And if you would go furnished to your realm 
 
 With fair provision, I do see a lady, 
 
 Methinks, would gladly bear you company : 
 
 How like you this piece ? 
 
 H 113
 
 ACT V. sc. s. Philaster 
 
 Meg. Sir, he likes it well, 
 
 For he hath tried it, and hath found it worth 
 His princely liking. We were ta'en 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, 30 
 
 And not in others ? or have princes salves 
 To cure ill names, that meaner people vrant ? 
 
 Phi. What mean you ? 
 
 Meg. You must get another ship, 
 
 To bear the princess and her boy together. 
 
 Dioji. How now ! 
 
 Meg. Others took me, and I took her and him 
 At that all women may be ta'en some time : 
 Ship us all four, my lord ; we can endure 
 Weather and wind alike. 
 
 Kmg. Clear thou thyself, or know not me for father. 40 
 
 Are. This earth, how false it is ! What means is left for me 
 To clear myself.'' It lies in your belief: 
 My lords, believe me ; and let all things else 
 Struggle together to dishonour me. 
 
 Bel. Oh, stop your ears, great King, that I may speak 
 As freedom would ! then I will call this lady 
 As base as are her actions : hear me, sir ; 
 Believe your heated blood when it rebels 
 Against your reason, sooner than this lady. 
 
 Meg. By this good light, he bears it handsomely. 50 
 
 Phi. This lady ! I will sooner trust the wind 
 114
 
 Philaster act v. sc. s 
 
 With feathers, or the troubled sea with pearl, 
 
 Than her with anything. 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, whate'er it be. 
 King. Swear to be true 60 
 
 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 that boy 
 
 To torture : I will have her cleared or buried. 
 Phi. Oh, let me call my word 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, 70 
 
 The falsest and the basest of this world. 
 
 Set swords against this breast, some honest man. 
 
 For I have lived till I am pitied ! 
 
 My former deeds were hateful : but this last 
 
 Is pitiful, for I unwillingly 
 115
 
 ACT V. sc. 5. Philaster 
 
 Have given the dear preserver of my life 
 
 Unto his tortare. Is it in the power 
 
 Of flesh and blood to carry this, and live ? 
 
 \Offers to stab himself. 
 Are. Dear sir, be patient yet ! Oh, stay that hand ! 
 King. Sirs, strip that boy. 
 Dio7i. Come, sir ; your tender flesh 80 
 
 Will try your constancy. 
 Bel. Oh, kill me, gentlemen ! 
 
 Dion. No. — Help, sirs. 
 Bel. Will you torture me ? 
 
 King. Haste there ; 
 
 Why stay you ? 
 Bel. Then I shall not break my vow. 
 
 You know, just gods, though I discover all. 
 Ki7ig. How 's that ? will he confess ? 
 Dion. Sir, so he says. 
 
 King. Speak then. 
 Bel. Great King, if you command 
 
 This lord to talk with me alone, my tongue, 
 
 Urged 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. 90 
 
 \pion and Bellario walk apart. 
 Dion. Why speak'st thou not ? 
 
 Bel. Know you this face, my lord ? 
 
 116
 
 Philaster act v. sc. 5. 
 
 Dion. No. 
 
 Bel. Have you not seen it, nor the like? 
 
 Dion. Yes, I have seen the like, but readily 
 I know not where. 
 
 Bel. 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. 
 
 Dion. By Heaven, and so there is ! 
 
 Bel. For her fair sake, 100 
 
 Who now doth spend the spring-time of her life 
 In holy pilgrimage, move to the King 
 That I may scape this torture. 
 
 Dion. But thou speak'st 
 
 As like Euphrasia as thou dost look. 
 How came it to thy knowledge that she lives 
 In pilgrimage ? 
 
 Bel. I know it not, my lord ; 
 
 But I have heard it, and do scarce believe it. 
 
 Dion. Oh, my shame ! is it possible ? Draw near. 
 That I may gaze upon thee. Art thou she. 
 Or else her murderer ? where wert thou born ? no 
 
 Bel. In Syracusa. 
 
 Dion. What 's thy name ? 
 
 Bel. Euphrasia. 
 
 Dion. Oh, 'tis just, 'tis she ! 
 
 117
 
 ACT V. sc. s. Philaster 
 
 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'er call thee daughter more ? 
 
 Bel. Would I had died indeed ! I wish it too : 
 
 And so I must have done by vow, ere published 
 What I have told, but that there was no means 
 To hide it longer. Yet I joy in this, 120 
 
 The princess is all clear. 
 
 King. What, have you done ? 
 
 Dion. All is discovered. 
 
 Phi. Why then hold you me ? 
 
 \Pffers to stab himself. 
 All is discovered ! Pray you, let me go. 
 
 King. Stay him. 
 
 Are. What is discovered ? 
 
 Dion. Why, my shame. 
 
 It is a woman : let her speak the rest. 
 
 Phi. How ? that again ! 
 
 Dion. It is a woman. 
 
 Phi. Blessed be you powers that favour innocence ! 
 
 King. Lay hold upon that lady. \Megra is seized. 
 
 Phi. It is a woman, sir ! — Hark, gentlemen, 
 
 It is a woman ! — Arethusa, take 130 
 
 My soul into thy breast, that would be gone 
 With joy. It is a woman ! Thou art fair, 
 And virtuous still to ages, in despite 
 Of malice. 
 
 118
 
 Philaster act v. sc. $• 
 
 King. Speak you, where lies his shame ? 
 
 Bel. I am his daughter. 
 
 Phi. The gods are just. 
 
 Dion. I dare accuse none ; but, before you two, 
 The virtue of our age, I bend my knee 
 For mercy. \Kneels. 
 
 Phi. \raising hijn."] Take it freely ; for I know, 
 
 Though what thou didst were undiscreetly done, 141 
 '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 outweighed it : all these jealousies 
 
 Had flown to nothing, if thou hadst discovered 150 
 
 What now we know. 
 
 Bel. My father oft would speak 
 
 Your worth and virtue ; and, as I did grow 
 More and more apprehensive, I did thirst 
 To see the man so raised. 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 lawn, I saw a god, 
 I thought (but it was you), enter our gates : 
 119
 
 ACT V. sc. s. Philaster 
 
 My blood flew out and back again, as fast 
 As I had puffed it forth and sucked it in i6o 
 
 Like breath : then was I called away in haste 
 To entertain you. Never was a man, 
 Heaved from a sheep-cote to a sceptre, raised 
 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 searched 
 What stirred it so : alas, I found it love ! 
 Yet far from lust ; for, could I but have lived 170 
 In presence of you, I had had my end. 
 For this I did elude my noble father 
 With a feigned pilgrimage, and dressed myself 
 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, 180 
 
 Whilst there was hope to hide me from men's eyes, 
 For other than I seemed, that I might ever 
 Abide with you. Then sat I by the fount, 
 Where first you took me up. 
 King. Search out a match 
 
 Within our kingdom, where and when thou wilt, 
 120
 
 Philaster act v. sc. s 
 
 And I will pay thy dowry ; and thyself 
 Wilt well deserve him. 
 
 Bel. 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 virtues of her lord and her, 190 
 
 I shall have hope to live. 
 
 Arc. 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. 
 Cursed be the wife that hates her ! 
 
 Phi. I grieve such virtue 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 ; 200 
 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 purposed wilh 
 
 Pha. I do confess, 
 
 Renowned sir. 209 
 
 King, Last, join your hands in one. Enjoy, Philaster, 
 121
 
 ACT V. sc. 5. Philaster 
 
 This kingdom, which is yours, and, after me, 
 Whatever I call mine. My blessing on you ! 
 All happy hours be at your marriage-joys, 
 That you may grow yourselves over all lands, 
 Aod live to see your plenteous branches spring 
 Wherever there is sun ! Let princes learn 
 By this to rule the passions of their blood ; 
 For what Heaven wills can never be withstood. 
 
 [Exeu7:t, 
 
 122
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 Abused, deceived ; i. i. 325 ; in. 1. 
 105. 
 
 Answerable, suitable, convenient ; 
 IV. ii. 32. 
 
 Apprehensive, capable of under- 
 standing ; IV. ii. 32. Cf. Julius 
 Ccesar, in. i. 67 : — 
 ' Men are flesh and blood, and 
 apprehensive.' 
 
 Articles, makes terms with ; iv. 
 ii. 32. 
 
 Basilisk, a fabulous serpent sup- 
 posed to kill by its look ; i. ii. 70 ; 
 IV. iii. 29. 
 
 Bellied, swollen, extravagant ; i. 
 i. 234. 
 
 Bills, pikes with hooked points ; 
 v. iv. 31. 
 
 Blanks, blank verses ; 11. ii. 97. 
 
 Bolted, started off, escaped; 11. ii. 
 
 9- 
 
 Branch, embroider, make patterns 
 over ; v. iii. 144 ; v. iv. 42. 
 
 Brave, gaily dressed, 11. iv. 25 ; 
 III. i. 157. 
 
 Bravery, ostentation ; i. i. 264. 
 
 Bugs, objects of terror; i. i. 235. 
 Cf. 3 Henry VI., ii. 2 :— 
 ' For Warwick was a bug that 
 feared us all. ' 
 
 Bug's-words, terrifying, high- 
 sounding words ; v. iv. 28. 
 
 Cantharides, a drug consisting of 
 dried Spanish flies; iv. i. 41. 
 
 Carduus, thistle ; 11. ii. 43._ 
 
 Carriage, behaviour; 11. iv. 113; 
 baggage, iv. i. 38. 
 
 Circumstances, circumstantial de- 
 tails; III. i. 134. 
 
 Cloudy, gloomy ; iv. i. 3. 
 
 Church-ale, festival to commemo- 
 rate the dedication of a church ; 
 v. iv. 55. 
 
 Cog, cheat ; i. 1. 59. 
 
 Conster, construe ; 11. i. 8. 
 
 Crossly, unsuitably, inauspi- 
 ciously ; 11. iv. 53. 
 
 Curious, scrupulous; iii. i. 2c. 
 
 Curst, cross ; 11. iii. 35. Cf. Muck 
 Ado about Nothing, 11. i. 22 : — 
 ' r faith she 's too curst.' 
 
 Dowcets, testes ; iv. ii. 13 ; v. iv. 
 
 62. 
 DucKERS, bowing, cringing shop- 
 men ; V. iv. 14. 
 DuLNESS, sleepiness; iv. iv. 6. Cf. 
 The Tempest, i. ii. 185 :— 
 ' Thou art inclined to sleep : 'tis 
 a good dulness. 
 And give it way. 
 
 Elder-gun, a popgun made of 
 elder-wood by extracting the 
 pith ; I. i. 226. 
 
 Epithalamium, a bridal song ; v. 
 
 Followers, pursuers; iv. iv. 33. 
 
 123
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 Philaster 
 
 Fox, a broadsword ; IV. iii. 131. 
 Derived probably from the mark 
 on the blade. Cf. Webster, The 
 White Devil :— 
 
 'O what blade is't? 
 A Toledo, or an English fox ? ' 
 
 Galloon-laces, pieces of close 
 lace for binding, originally of 
 worsted. From Spanish galon = 
 finery. 
 
 Hectors, martial fellows; v. iv. 
 
 32- 
 Honest, chaste ; 11. ii. 5 *, iv. u. 23. 
 Humour, moisture ; v. lii. 31. 
 
 Jag, cut or slash ; v. iv. 43. 
 Jealous, suspicious ; 11. iv. 14, etc. 
 
 Kell, the caul about a hart's 
 
 paunch ; v. iv. 45. 
 Kit, a small violin ; v. iv. 70. 
 
 Leg, a bow ; i. 1. 80. 
 
 Lime-hound, a hunting dog, so 
 called from the lyatn, or lym, by 
 which it was led. In King Lear, 
 III. vi. 67, lytn is used of the dog 
 itself. 
 
 Lodged, entrapped, brought to 
 covert ; iv. ii. i. 
 
 Minion, favourite at court ; i. i. 311. 
 Murrains, plagues ; v. iii. 142. 
 MuRRioNS, steel caps ; v. iv. 92. 
 
 Outlandish, foreign ; i. I. 205. 
 
 Parcels, pieces ; v. iv. 77. 
 Physical, good for the health, 
 salutary ; iv. i. 24. Cf. Julius 
 Cessar, 11. i. 261 :— 
 
 ' Is it physical 
 To walk unbraced, and suck up 
 
 the humours 
 Of the dank morning ?' 
 
 Pollard, a stag which has cast its 
 
 horns ; V. iv. 82. 
 Popinjays, parrots ; i. \. 206. 
 Present, immediate ; 11. iv. 87. 
 Prevent, anticipate ; i. ii. 195. 
 Prodigious, portentous, ill-omened; 
 
 II. iv. 166 ; v. iii. 60. 
 PouLTER, poulterer; v. iv. 37. 
 Pyramis, pyramid ; iv. iv. 90. 
 
 Quick, alive ; i. i. 171. 
 
 Ravkl, to become disjoined or 
 
 frayed; v. iv. 44. 
 Resolved, assured ; 11. iv. 95. ^ _ 
 Ring-tail, a kite with a whitish 
 
 tail ; v. iv. 57. 
 Roarers, blustering fellows, 
 
 bullies ; V. iv. 90. 
 
 Sarcenet, a fine, thin, silk fabric— 
 
 literally ' Saracen-stuff' ; v. iv. 56. 
 Sconce, head ; v. iii. 177. 
 Servants, lovers; i. i. 119. 
 Several, separate, different ; I. ii. 
 
 116. 
 Slip, a leash or noose for holding a 
 
 dog ; IV. i. 15. 
 Stone-eow, a cross-bow which 
 
 shoots stones ; iv. ii. 9. _ 
 Surcingle, a band for pinioning a 
 
 hawk ; v. iv. 129. 
 
 Tainted, affected in mind ; i. I. 
 212. 
 
 Tender'st, carest for ; iii. i. 279. 
 
 Tiller, a cross-bow ; 11. ii. 45. 
 
 TowsABEL, a jeering alteration of 
 Dowsabel (the reading of Q. i), a 
 common name of pastoral heroines, 
 derived from Fr. donee et belle. 
 Cf. Drayton, Eel., iv. :— 
 ' He had, as antique stories tell, 
 A daughter cleaped Dowsabel.' 
 
 124
 
 Philaster 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 Toy, whim ; v. iii. 136. Cf. Hamlet t 
 I. iii. 6 : — 
 • For Hamlet and the trifling of 
 
 his favour, 
 Hold it a fashion and a toy in 
 blood.' 
 Travels, labours ; i. i. 153. 
 Troul, to shout tumultuously ; iv. 
 
 iii. 134. 
 Turtle, a dove ; i. 1. 209. 
 
 Venerv, hunting ; iv. ii. 16. 
 
 What-ye-lacks, shopmen, so called 
 
 from their customary cry to the 
 passers-by ; v. iii. 123. 
 Water-camlets, rich fabrics, 
 made of silk, wool, or other 
 materials, with a wavy or watered 
 appearance; v. iv. 9. Cf. Hol- 
 land's Pliny, I. 228 : — 
 ' The waved water _ Chamelot 
 was from the beginning es- 
 teemed the richest and bravest 
 wearing.' 
 Wiper, a steel instrument for 
 cleaning the bore of a musket ; 
 V. iv. 37. 
 
 125
 
 NOTES 
 
 Q. I = Quarto of 1620. Q. 6= Quarto of 1652. 
 
 Q. 2= ,, 1622. Q. 7= ,, 1660. 
 
 Q. 3= „ 1628. Q. 8= „ 1687. 
 
 Q. 4= „ 1634. Q. 9= .. 1717. 
 
 Q. 5= ,, 1639. F. = Folio of 1679. 
 
 In the old texts, from 1628 onwards, the scene of the play is simply 
 given as 'Cicilie.' Dyce substituted 'Messina and its neighbour- 
 hood.' His stage-directions have been adopted throughout. 
 
 I. i. 42. Pleased; this (with the variant z^€i\\vig, fleasde), is the 
 reading of all the texts. Dyce asks, 'Can the true reading be 
 released!' but the original text gives a sufficiently satisfactory 
 meaning. 
 
 Stage-direction, Enter Galatea, a Lady, and Megra. In the old 
 texts the order is Galatea, Megra, and a Lady, but the alteration 
 is necessar}', as there can be no doubt that Dion's speech, 11. 57-66, 
 applies to Megra. The old texts further, in the lines that follow, 
 mistakenly assign to the Lady the words of Megra, and vice versa ; 
 hence Q. 3, and following early editions, add to the list of dramatis 
 personce, ' An old wanton Lady or Croane.' 
 
 I. i. 112. To speak : Q. 2 reads To talk of. 
 
 I. i. 145. By more than all the gods : This is the reading of Q.'s 
 1, 2, 3, and 8. Q.'s 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, and F. read ' By more than all 
 my hopes.' 
 
 I. i. 150. Opine', this is the reading of F. and Q. 9, and has 
 been generally adopted by modern editors. But it does not give 
 126
 
 Philaster notes 
 
 an entirely satisfactor}' sense. The other Q.'s read open, which is 
 unintelligible. 
 I. i. 186-190. In the old texts the passage is printed : — 
 
 ' This earth you tread upon 
 (A dowry as you hope with this fair Princess 
 Whose memory I bow to) was not left 
 By my dead father (oh, I had a father) 
 To your inheritance.' 
 
 I. i. 205. Looks like a tooth-drawer. Ray in his Proverbs inter- 
 prets this as looking ' very thin and meagre.' 
 
 I. i. 218-219. To him, That made the world his : Alexander the 
 Great. 
 
 I. i. 242. A pattej-n of succession : a pattern to succeeding 
 kings. 
 
 I. i. 247. A prince of wax : well made, as if modelled in wax. 
 Cf. the Nurse's description of Paris as ' a man of wax ' {Romeo 
 and Juliet, I. iii.). Galatea's retort, a dog it is, refers to the cant 
 phrase of the day, ' a dog of wax,' the meaning of which is obscure. 
 
 I. i. 253. Nothing hopes and fears : this is the reading of Q.'s i, 
 2, 3, and 8. The other texts have nought but hopes a?id fears. In 
 either case there seems some corruption. 
 
 I. i. 255. And right me: this, the reading of Q.'s i and 2, is 
 preferable on metrical grounds to and right me not, the reading of 
 the later texts. 
 
 I. i. 265. A true tenant: this is the reading of all the texts 
 except Q. i, which has a true truant. This, in spite of the jingle, 
 gives a more satisfactory meaning. Milford conjectured recreant. 
 
 I, i. 313. If I could : the old texts read If you could. 
 
 I. i. 322. Injuries : Q. i alone reads virtues. 
 
 I. ii. 116. Flowers bred in the vale : this is the reading of Q. i, 
 and it gives an intelligible sense, though no mention has been made 
 127
 
 NOTES Philaster 
 
 in the previous lines of a ' vale.' The older texts read bred in the 
 bay, of which no satisfactory interpretation seems possible. Mason 
 thought that the words meant ' woven in the garland,' but there is 
 no instance of ^r<fd?^= braid having a strong past participle. 
 
 II. ii. 26. This win: part of a woman's head-dress. Cf. Jonson's 
 Silent Woman, ' It dropt all my wire and my ruff with wax candle,' 
 and Middleton's Michaelmas Term, ' A narrow-eared wire sets out 
 a cheek so fat and so full. ' 
 
 II. ii. 61. White money : 'a cant term for silver specie ' (Dyce). 
 
 II. ii. 65. Camphire constitutions. Camphire was considered 
 pre-eminently cold. 
 
 II. iii. 26. Was never altered \ this is the reading of the Quartos, 
 and should be retained. The use of a singular verb after a plural 
 substantive is common in Elizabethan English. F. alone reads were. 
 
 II. iv. 92. Makes : the reading of all the old texts. Cf. previous 
 note. 
 
 n. iv. 99. Renegadoes : the Spanish renegade was used through- 
 out the seventeenth century with the meaning, 'apostate,' 'turn- 
 coat.' Cf. Twelfth Night, ill. ii. 63, ' Malvolio is turned heathen, 
 a very renegado.' It seems here to be loosely used in the sense 
 of ' treacherous intruders,' or perhaps, ' rufhans.* 
 
 II. iv. 123. Ride a stage: the reading of Q. i, and evidently 
 correct. The majority of the other editions read a stagge, while 
 Q. 8 has stag, and Q. 6 and F. stagg. There is an allusion to the 
 necessity, at the period, of obtaining a warrant for the hire of post- 
 horses. 
 
 II. iv. 178. Nine worthies : Joshua, Judas Maccabaeus, David, 
 Alexander the Great, Hector, Julius Caesar, Charlemagne, Godfrey 
 of Bouillon, and King Arthur. 
 
 III. i. 23. Bulls of brass : an allusion to the brazen bull of Phalaris. 
 III. i. 106. For bursting: for fear of bursting. It was popularly 
 
 supposed that there were districts where no venomous creature 
 could live. 
 
 128
 
 Philaster notes 
 
 IV. i. 22. A sick man^s salve : an ironical allusion to a work by 
 Thomas Bacon called The Sick Man's Salve. Wherein al faithful 
 Christians may learne both hcno to behave themselves patiently and 
 thankfully in the time of sicknesse, and also vertouslie to dispose 
 their tempor all goods and finally to prepare themselves gladly and 
 godly to die. The first edition was published in 1561. 
 
 IV. i. 33. A foolish twinkling with the eye, that spoils her coat : 
 ' The allusion is to mullets, or stars, introduced into coats of arms, 
 to distinguish the younger branches of a family, which, of course, 
 denote inferiority.' 
 
 IV. i. 48. Large : the reading of Q.'s i and 2. The later editions 
 x^z.^ great. 
 
 IV. ii. lo-ii. He forsook the say , for paying ten shillings. It was 
 customary, after the deer had been hunted down, for the keeper to 
 offer his knife to a leading personage among the huntsmen, that 
 he might rip up the belly and take an assay of the condition of the 
 game. Pharamond declined the offer, in order to escape the fee 
 of ten shillings. On the use oifor in the passage, of. iii. i. 106. 
 
 IV. ii. 14-15. The velvet-head . . . to turf his Jiat withal. Turber- 
 vile, in his Art of Venerie, states that a hart's head {i.e. horns) 
 ' when it coraeth first out, hath a russet pile upon it, the which is 
 called velvet, and his head is called then a velvet-head. ' To tuff 
 is to * re-cover.' 
 
 IV. ii, 16. Sir Tristrem : the patron knight of the chase. 
 
 IV. ii, 18. A rascal milking in a meadow : the reading of all the 
 texts. A ' rascal ' is a lean deer, not fit to be hunted. Theobald, 
 followed by later editors, has substituted ' miching,' i.e. * creeping 
 along by itself,' for ' milking,' but the original reading may be 
 correct. 
 
 IV. ii. 84. Studded with : Q. 1 reads ' star-dyed with,' and Q.'s 
 7 and 9 and F. read • subbed with.' 
 
 IV. iii. 53. Sirs: used formerly as a term of address to women 
 as well as men. 
 
 I 129
 
 NOTES Philaster 
 
 IV. iii, 6r. Meeting', the reading of all the old texts except Q. i, 
 which has meetings. 
 
 IV, iii. 89. Venies at wasters', bouts at cudgels. Cf. Burton's 
 Anatomy of Melajtcholy, ' They that play at wasters exercise them- 
 selves by a few cudgels how to avoid an enemy's blows.' Theobald 
 connects ' wasters ' with the Latin vastatores, but the origin of the 
 word is doubtful. 
 
 IV. iv. I. A heaviness near death: Q. i reads O heavens f heavy 
 death. 
 
 IV. iv. 60. To hvrt. Q. 2 alone reads strike. 
 
 IV. iv. 123-124. But say It was Philaster : this, the reading of 
 all texts except Q. i, is not nonsense, as Dyce suggests. Phara- 
 mond, in his eagerness to convict his rival Philaster of crime, 
 characteristically appeals to the King to declare that he, and not 
 Bellario, is guilty of the attack on the Princess. Q. i reads ' but 
 sute it was.* Hence Dyce reads ' but sure it was.' 
 
 V. ii. I. Nay, faith, Philaster: the reading of Q.'s i, 2, and 3. 
 The other texts (except Q. 9, which has Nay, Philaster) read 
 * Nay, dear Philaster.' 
 
 V. ii. 5. Shot : the reading of all the texts except Q. i, which has 
 shut. 
 
 V. ii. 21. By limbs', this, the reading of Q. 2, is preferable to 
 that of the later texts, ' my limbs.' Q. i reads ' waste l;y time.' 
 
 V. ii. 40. Your life no price compared to mine. This was Mason's 
 alteration of the original reading. My life no price compared toyours^ 
 which gives a sense opposite to that intended by Philaster. Mason's 
 alteration had been already anticipated by the author of The Restau- 
 ration. Q. i reads, My life no whit compared to yours for love. 
 
 V. iii. 29. Free from the fervour of the Sirian Star : the reading 
 of Q. I. Other texts have, Free from the Sirian Star. 
 
 V. iii. 42. Divided : Q. i reads unarmed. 
 
 V. iii. 55. Hymen turn his saffron. The figure of Hymen in 
 masques was arrayed in saffron-coloured robes. 
 130
 
 Philaster notes 
 
 V, iii. 65. Chafed : the reading of Q. i. C/iasi is the reading of 
 Q.'s 2, 3, 4, 5, and 8 ; Casi of Q.'s 6, 7, 9, and F. 
 
 V. iii. 80. This line is only found in Q. i. 
 
 V. iii. 108. Fearing : fearing for, 
 
 V. iii. 130. Shiti : Q. i reads skin, which may be right. 
 
 V. iii. 133. Bawled : adopted by Dyce from Heath's MS. notes. 
 The old texts have bath'd. 
 
 V. iii. 143-144. False lights : used by dishonest tradesmen to 
 enable them to palm off inferior goods on their customers. Dyce 
 refers in illustration to Middleton's Michaelmas Term, where the 
 rascally woollen-draper addresses his assistant, Falselight — 
 
 ' Go, m.ake my coarse commodities look sleek ; 
 With subtle art beguile the honest eye ; 
 Be near to my trap-window, cunning Falselight.' 
 
 V. iii. 153-154. The Goatish Latin: the reading of Q.'s i (with 
 the spelling gotish), 2, 3, and 9, and certainly correct. Dyce 
 quotes from Hormanni's Vulgaria : ' The rank savour of gotes is 
 applied to them that will not come out of their baudy \i. e. foul, 
 barbarous) Latin.' The other texts read goarish. 
 
 V. iii. 170. Soil you . , . a brace of foremen : fatten a brace of 
 geese. ' Soiling, the last fattening given to fowls when they are 
 taken up from the stack or barn-door, and cooped for a few days.' — 
 Forby's Vocabulary of East Anglia. 
 
 V. iv. 7. Ding-a-dings \ Q. i. Other texts read, ding-do7igs. 
 The phrase =darHngs. 
 
 V. iv. 8. Kings of Clubs : an allusion to the favourite weapons of 
 the London apprentices. 
 
 V. iv. 9-10. Paintings Spitted with copper : coloured clothes 
 stitched over with copper. Cf. Cotgrave : ' BrocM, Broached, 
 spitted \ also, grosely stitched, sowed or set with great stitches.' 
 
 V. iv. II. Bodkin : a corruption of Baudkin, or Baudekyn, 
 which Nares defines as ' the richest kind of stuff, the web being 
 
 131
 
 NOTES Philaster 
 
 gold and the woof silk, with embroidery.' According to Strutt, 
 Henry iii. was the first English king to use it for his vesture. In 
 the Wardrobe Inventories of Henry v. and Henry viii. we hear of 
 ' baudekyn of purple silk,' ' white baudekyn of gold,' etc. 
 
 V. iv. 15. Your three-piled spirits, your wrought valours : An 
 elaborate play on words. Three-piled was originally used of the 
 best velvet, because it was thought that ' there was a three-fold 
 accumulation of the outer substance or pile* (Nares, quoted by 
 Dyce). It was thence applied to anything specially excellent, and 
 its use in an address to shopkeepers has a peculiar propriety. 
 Similarly valours is used with a punning reference to velures or 
 valures, i.e. velvets. 
 
 V. iv. 19. Rose-nobles: gold coins worth 6s. 8d., struck originally 
 in the reign of Edward ill., and stamped with a rose. 
 
 V. iv. 20. Lord-prince : Q. i reads lord-prisoner, which may be 
 right, as it is metrically preferable. 
 
 V. iv. 22-24, That will not strike . . . cry cockles. That will 
 not yield to an inferior vessel, and let a man-of-war be idle, and 
 engage in an inferior form of trade. ' Foist ' (Fr. fuste, ItaL 
 fusta) is a small vessel, and, as Weber remarks, in its application 
 to Pharamond, with his gaudy attire and ostentation, there is pro- 
 bably an allusion to the Lord Mayor's gorgeously painted barge, 
 the galley-foist. For the meaning of ' hull ' cf. Twelfth Night, 
 Act I. v. 216-217 : — 
 
 ' Mal. Will you hoist sail, sir ? Here lies your way. 
 Viol. No, good swabber ; I am to hull here a little longer.' 
 
 'Cry Cockles,' according to Grose {Class. Diet, of the Vulgar 
 Tongue), quoted by Dyce, means 'to be hanged,' perhaps from 
 the noise made whilst strangling. If this is the correct interpreta- 
 tion, there is an abrupt change in the metaphor, suggested by the 
 fate of which Philaster stands in peril. But ' cry cockles ' may 
 perhaps mean 'engage in an inferior form of trade.' Such an in- 
 132
 
 Philaster notes 
 
 terpretation finds sonie support in the reading of Q. i, Stoopc to 
 carry coals. 
 
 V. iv. 29. Musket : a pun on the double meaning of the word, (i) 
 a male sparrow-hawk, (2) a weapon. Dyce quotes from Turbervile's 
 Booke of Falconrie, ' All these kind of hawks have their male birds 
 and cocks, as the spar owhawk his musket.' 
 
 V. iv. 35. Do you see, sweet prince ?: so Q. 2. In Q. i we have, 
 'Do you huffe, swetite Prince?' Other readings are — 'Do you 
 sweete Prince?' 'do you sweat, Prince?' 'do you swear, 
 Prince ? ' 
 
 V. iv. 36. Hzilk : so all editions except Q. i, Aock. The reading 
 ku/k, i.e. 'to take e' trails out of," is preferable to hock, i.e., 
 hough or hamstrinj^f, which could scarcely be used of a hare. 
 
 V. iv, 50-51. Seeled up. With a feather through his nose. ' Seeled 
 is a term in falconry : when a hawk is first taken, a thread is run 
 through its eyelids so that she may see very little, to make her 
 be ler endure the hood ' (Theobald). Sometimes a small feather 
 was used for the purpose, and this is alluded to here. 
 
 V. iv. 62. Donsels : Youths, properly young gentlemen, profess- 
 ing arms, and not yet knighted. Low Latin domicellus', Spanish 
 domel. 
 
 V. iv. 68-69. A reference, of course, to Brasenose College, 
 Oxford. 
 
 V. iv, 79. Tivo-hatid mwrd: the right reading is doubtful. Q.'s 
 2 and 3 read i-hand rvord; Q.'s 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, and F., hand sword ; 
 Q. 8, second-hand sword. 
 
 V. iv, 89. Rosicleer : a personage in the Spanish romance, Donzel 
 de Phebo, translated under the title of The Mirror of Knighthood, 
 wherein is shewed the Worthinesse of the Knight of the Sunne and 
 his Brother Rosicleer. 
 
 V. iv. 105. Ci'vimed golls: 'Hands (or rather fists, paws), to 
 which some sort o' gum had been appli'-d either for its perfume or 
 its bleaching quality. Ben Jonson speaks of effeminate persons 
 
 13Z
 
 NOTES Philaster 
 
 ' bleaching their hands at midnight, gumming and bridling their 
 beards, etc. — Discoveries' (Dyce). 
 
 V. iv, 130. Make you like a Jiawk : so all old texts except F. , 
 which has male you, etc. ' Make ' was a technical term in fal- 
 conry=^to train, render obedient. It is strange that Dyce, who 
 quotes instances of this use from Turbervile's Booke of Falconrie, 
 should yet adopt the reading mail [i.e. pinion), of which he con- 
 siders male in F. to be a variant spelling. 
 
 V. V. 13. That I have wrought tliee : so all old texts. Modern 
 editors have substituted wrong' d. May the right reading be, at 
 that I have wrought thee ? 
 
 V. V. 48. Heated : so Q. 2. Other texts hated. 
 
 V. V. no. Or else her murderer. It was believed in some bar- 
 barous countries that the murderer inherited the qualities and 
 shape of the person he destroyed. 
 
 V. V. 154. Raised: so all old texts. The reading may per- 
 haps mean, ' so raised above the rest,' as it is interpreted in The 
 Restauration, but Settle in his adaptation gZMt praised, which has 
 been adopted by modern editors. 
 
 Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty 
 at the Edinburgh University Press
 
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