California 
 
 clonal 
 
 ility
 
 u^c
 
 v. ■&* 
 
 \ ^\^aJL-(^<Uj^ . 
 
 (f2**u<^^>^ ^ ''feUjUasL , 
 
 Ml- 
 
 '■' "J
 
 // - 
 
 \s v w ~v r 
 
 P H I L A S T;E R, 
 
 A TRAGEDY. 
 
 WRITTEN BY 
 
 BEAUMONT and FLETCHER. 
 
 With ALTERATIONS. 
 
 AS IT IS ACTED AT THE 
 
 THEATRE-ROYAL in DRURY-LANE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 Printed for J. and R. Ton son in the Strand 
 
 MDCCLXIII. 
 ( Price One Shilling. )
 
 ,7! 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 v t W~~*> H E prefent Age, though it has done Honour to its own/ ; i^f-« 
 Discernment by the Applaufes paid to Shakefpeare, has, 
 M. at the fame Time, too grofsly neglected the other great 
 \ Matters in the fame School of Writing. The Pieces of Beaumont 
 l and Fnt J. a- in particular, (to fay nothing of yon/on, Maffinger, 
 Sbirly, &c.) abound with Beauties, fo much of the fame Colour 
 with thofe of Shakefpeare, that it is almoft unaccountable, that the 
 very Age which admires one, even to Idolatry, fhould pay fo little 
 Attention to the others ; and, while almoll every Poet or Critick, , 
 at all eminent in the literary World, have been ambitious of di- 
 Itinguifhing themfelves, as Editors of Shakefpeare., no more than 
 two folitary Editions of Beaumont and Fletcher, and one of thofe of 
 a very late Date, have been publifhed in the prefent Century. 
 
 The Truth is, that Nature indeed is in all Ages the fame ; but 
 Modes and Cuftoms, Manners and Language, are fubjecl to per- 
 petual Variation. Time infenfibly renders Writings obf lete and 
 uncouth, and the gradual Introduction of new Words and Idioms 
 brings the older Forms into Difrepute and Difufe. But the in- 
 £ trinfick Merit of any Work, though it may be obfeured, mult for 
 x ever remain : As antique Coins, or old Plate, though not current 
 ;j\cr fafliionable, ftill have their Value, according to their Weight. 
 
 The Injuries of Modern Innovation in tiie State of Letters may 
 ^ be in a great Meafure repaired, by rendering the Writings of our 
 ' old Authors familiar to the Publick, and bringing them often be- 
 ^ fore them. How many Plays are there of Shakefpeare, now in con- 
 , itant Acting, of which the Directors of the Theatres would fcarce 
 £ hazard the Reprefentation, it the long-continued, and, as it were, 
 . traditional Approbation of the Publick had not given a Sanction to 
 -v their Irregularities, and familiarized the Diction. The Language 
 even of our Liturgy and Bible, if we may venture to mention them 
 t on this Occafvm, would perhaps loon become obfolete and unin- 
 ~ relligible to the Generality, if they were not conftantly read in our 
 ~ Churches. The Stile of > ur Authors, efpecially in this Play, 
 is often remarkably plain and fimple, and only railed or enriched 
 1" by the Sentiments. It is the Opinion of Drvdeu, that even " Shake- 
 Vo" fpeare\ Language is a little obfolete in Companion of theirs j 
 J " and that the Englifli Language in them arrived to its higheft 
 e> " Perfection ; what Words have fince been taken in, beino rather 
 ^ «' fuperfluous, than neceiTary." 
 
 r Phi las rtR has always been eftcemed one of the bell Productions 
 of Bczuxunt and Fletcher ; and, we are told by Dry den, was the 
 
 A 2 firft 

 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 firft Play that brought them into great Reputation. The Beauties 
 of it are indeed fo ftriking and fo various, that our Authors might 
 in this Play almoft be faid to rival Sbake/peare, were it not for the- 
 many evident Marks of Imitation of his Manner. The late Edi- 
 tors of Beaumont and Fletcher conceive, that the Poets meant to- 
 delineate, in the Charafter of Philajler, a Hamlet racked with the 
 Jealoufy of Othello ; and there are feveral PafTages, in this Play, 
 where the Authors have manifeftly taken Fire from fimilar Cir- 
 cumftances and Expreffions in Shake/peare, particularly fome, that 
 will readily occur to the Reader as he goes along, from Othello, 
 Hamlet, Cymbeline, and Lear. 
 
 To remove the Objections to the Performance of this excellent 
 Play on the Modern Stage, has been the chief Labour, and fole 
 Ambition, of the prefent Editor. It may be remembered, that 
 The Spanijh Curate, The Little French Lanvyer, and Scornfull 
 Lady of our Authors, as well as The Silent Wo/nan of Jon- 
 Jon, all favourite Entertainments of our PredeceiTors, have, 
 within thefe few Years, encountered the Severity of the Pit, and 
 received Sentence of Condemnation. That the uncommon Merit 
 of fuch a Play as Philajler might be univerfally acknowledged and 
 received, it appeared necefTary to clear it of Ribaldry and Obfce- 
 nity, and to amend a grofs Indecency in the original Conftitution 
 of the Fable, which muft have checked the Succefs due to the reft 
 of the Piece, nay, indeed, was an infuperable Obftacle to its 
 Reprefentation. 
 
 But though the Inaccuracies and Licentioufnefs of the Piece were 
 Inducements (according to the incudi reddere of Horace) to put 
 Jt on the Anvil again, yet nothing has been added more than was 
 abfolutely neceflary, to make it move eafily on the new Hinge, 
 whereon it now turns : Nor has any thing been omitted, except 
 what was fuppofed to have been likely to obfcure its Merit, or 
 injure its Succefs. The Pen was drawn, without the leaft Heft- 
 tation, over every Scene now expunged, except the firft Scene of 
 the third Aft, as it Hands in the Original ; in regard to which, the 
 Part, that Philajler fuftains in it, occafioned fome Paufe : But, oa 
 Examination, it feemcd that Dion's Falfification of Facts in that 
 Scene was inconfiftent with the reft of his Chara&er, though very 
 natural in fuch a Perfon as Megra : And though we have in ouf 
 Times feen the fuddenand inftantaneousTranfitions from onePaf- 
 iion to another remarkably well reprefented on the Stage, yet Phi- 
 lajler's Emotions appeared impoffible to be exhibited with any 
 Conformity to Truth or Nature. It was therefore thought advis- 
 able to omit the whole Scene ; and it is hoped, that this Omiflion 
 will not be difapproved, and that it will not appear to have left 
 any Void or Chafm in the A&ion ; fmce the imputed Falfehood of 
 ArethvJ'a, after being fo induftrioufly made publick to the whole 
 Court, might very naturally be imagined to come to the Knowledge 
 •f Philajler in a much ftiorter Interval, than is often fuppofed ta 
 
 5 elapf©
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 elapfe between the Ails ; or even between the Scenes of fome of oar 
 
 old Piays. 
 
 The Scenes in the Fourth Aft, wherein Philafter, according to 
 the original Play, wounds Arethufa and BeUario, and from which 
 the Piece took its fecond Title of Lo-ve lies a Bleeding, have always 
 been cenfured by the Criticks. Th'.y breathe too much of that 
 Spirit of Blood, and Cruelty, and Horror, of which the Englifh. 
 Tragedy hath often beenaccufed. The Hero's wounding his Mi-, 
 ftrefs hurt the Delicacy of inoft ; and his maiming Bellario fleeping, 
 in order to fave himfelf from his Purfuers, offended the Generality 
 of all. This Part of the Fable, therefore, fo injurious to the Cha- 
 racter of Philafter, it was judged abfolutely requisite to alter J 
 and anew Turn has been given to all thofe Circumftances : Bat the 
 Change has been effected by fuch fimple Means, and with fo much 
 Reverence to the Original, that there are hardly ten Lines added 
 on Account of the Alteration. 
 
 The reft of the Additions or Alterations may be feen at once bjr 
 comparing the prefent Play with the Original;- if the Reader does 
 not, on fuch Occafions, of himfelf too eafily difcover the Patch- 
 work of a Modern Hand. 
 
 There is extant in the Works of the Duke of Buckingham., who 
 wrote The Rehearfal, and altered The Chances, an Alteration of this 
 Play, under the Title of The Refioration, or Right -jjill take Place. 
 The Duke feems to have been very ftudious to difguife the Piece, 
 ihc Names of the Dramatis Per/ona:, as well as the Title, being 
 entirely changed ; and the whole Piece, together with the Pro- 
 logue and Epilogue, feeming intended to carry the Air of an ob- 
 lique political Satire on his own Times. However that may be, the 
 Duke's Play is as little (if not lefs) calcalated for the prefent Srage, 
 as the Original of our Authors. The Character of Tbrafomond (tor 
 fo the Duke calls the Spauijb Prince) is much more ludicrous than 
 the Pharamond of Beaumont and Fletcher. Few of the Indecencies 
 or Obfcenities in the Original are removed ; and with what Deli- 
 cacy the Adventure of Megra is managed, may be determined from 
 the following Specimen of his Grace's Alteration of that Circunv* 
 fiance, not a Word of the following Extract being to be found in 
 Beaumont and Fltichtr. 
 
 inter the Guard, bringing in Tbrafomond, in Drawers, mufikd mp. 
 in a Chak. 
 
 Guard. Sir, in Obedience to your Commands, 
 We ftopt this Fellow Healing out of Doors. 
 
 {They pull of his €lcal~ 
 Agremont. Who's this, the Prince ? 
 CUon. Yes ; he is incognito. 
 King. Sir, I muft chide you for this Loofcnefs : 
 You've wror.g'd a worthy lady ; but no more. 
 
 Thrnfcmoni*
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Ybrafomond. Sir, I came hither but to take the Air. 
 Clean. A witty Rogue, I warrant him. 
 Agremont. Ay, he's a Devil at his Anfwers. 
 King. Conduct him to his Lodgings. 
 
 If to move the Paffions of Pity and Terror are the twO chief End 9 
 of Tragedy, there needs no Apology for giving that Title to the 
 Play of Philajicr. If Lear, Hamlet, Othello', &c. &c. notwithstand- 
 ing the cafual Introduction of comick Circumftances in the natural 
 Co urk of the Action, are Tragedies ; Philastlr is fo too. The 
 ' Duke of Buckingham entitles his Alteration a Tragi-Comedy ; but 
 that Word, according to its prefent Acceptation, conveys the Idea 
 of a very different Species of Compofition ; a Play, like The Spanijh 
 Friar, or Oroonoko, in which two diftinct Actions, one ferious and 
 the other comick, are unnaturally woven together ; as abfurd a 
 Medley (in the Opinion of Addifon) as if an Epick Writer was to 
 undertake to throw into one Poem the Adventures of AEneas and 
 Hudihras. 
 
 As to the Form in which the Piece is now fubmitted to the Pub- 
 lick, fome, perhaps, will think that the Editor has taken too many 
 Liberties with the Original, and many may cenfure him for not 
 having made a more thorough Alteration. There are, it mult be 
 confeffed, many Things ftill left in the Play, which may be thought 
 to lower the Dignity of Tragedy, and which would not be admit- 
 ted in a Fable of modern Construction : But where fuch Things 
 were in Nature, and inoffenfive, and ferved at the fame Time as fo 
 many Links in the Chain of Circumftances, that compofe the Ac- 
 tion, it was thought better to fubdue in forne Meafure the Intem- 
 perance of the Scenes of low Humour, than wholly to reject or omit 
 them. It would not have been in the Power, nor indeed was it 
 ever in the Intention cr Defire, of the Editor, to give Philajicr the 
 Air of a modern Performance ; no more than an Architect of this 
 Age would endeavour to embellifh the Magnificence of a Gothick 
 Building with the Ornaments of the Greek or Roman Orders. It 
 is impoffible for the fe^erert Reader to have a meaner Opinion of the 
 Editor's Share in the Work than he entertains of it himfelf. Some- 
 thing, however, was neceflary to be done ; and the Reafons, for 
 what he has done, have already been affigned ; nor cart he repent 
 of the Trouble he has taken, at the Inftance of a Friend, whom he 
 is happy to oblige, when he fees himfelf the Inftrument ofreftoring 
 Pbilajler to the Theatre, of difplaying new Graces in Mrs. Fates, 
 and of calling forth the extraordinary Powers of fo promifing a Ge- 
 nius for the Stage as Mr. Powell. 
 
 PROLOGUE.
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 Written by GEORGE COLMAN. 
 
 Spoken by Mr. KIN G. 
 
 7J7~II I L E modern Tragedy , by Rule exacl, 
 Spins out a thin-wrought Fable, Acl by Atl y 
 
 JVe dare to bring you one of thofe bold Plays 
 
 Wrote by rough Er.gliJJj Wits informer Days ; 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher ! thofe Twin Stars, that run 
 
 Their glorious Courfe rfJ^w^Shakefpeare'; golden Sun ; 
 
 Or when Phil aster Hamlet'* Place fuppUed, 
 
 Or Beiius xvalk'd the Stage by FalftafPi Side. 
 
 Their Souls, well pair' 'd, fit Fire in mingled Rays^ 
 
 Their Hands together twind the focial Bays, 
 
 Till Fa f ton drove, in a refining Age, 
 
 Virtue' from Court, and Nature from the Stage. 
 
 Then Nonfenfe, in Hero: 'cks, fern, dfublime ; . 
 
 Kings rav'd in Couplets, and Maids figh'd in Rhime. 
 
 Next) prim, and trim, end delicate, and chajle, . 
 
 A Hafjfrom Greece and France, came ModernTaJle. 
 
 Cold are her Sons, and fo afraid of dealing 
 
 In Rant and Fujiian, they ne'er rife to Feeling. 
 
 Ofay, ye Bards of Phlegm, fay, zvhere's the Name 
 
 That ear. with F LETCHER urge a rival Claim ? 
 
 Say, where' s the Poet, train d in pedant Schools, 
 
 Equal to Shakespeare, who o'erleapt all Rules ? 
 Thus of our Bards we boldly fpeak our Mind ; 
 
 A harder Ttifc, alas, remains behind : 
 
 To-night, as yet by public k Eyesunfeen, . 
 A raw, unprailis d Novice f lis the Scene. 
 Bred iv the City, his theatric a- Star 
 Brings him at length on this Side Temple-Bar ; 
 Smit with the Mufe, the Ledger he forgot, 
 And when he wrote his Name, he made a Blot. 
 Him while perplexing Hopes and Fears cmbarvafs, 
 Skulking (like Hamlet' s Rat) behind the Arras, 
 Me a dramatic k Fellow-feeling draius, 
 Without a Fee, to pic.:, I a Brother's Caufe. 
 Genius is rare ; and while our Great Citr.ptroller, 
 No more a Manager, turns arrant Stroller, 
 Let nevj Adventurers your Care engage, 
 And nurfe the Infant Saplings of the Stage ! 
 
 Dramatis
 
 Dramatis Perfon*. 
 
 King, — 
 
 Philafier, ..•— 
 Pharamond, 
 Dion*, — 
 
 Cleremont, — 
 Thrafiline, — 
 Captain, — 
 Countryman, 
 
 Mejfengers, 
 Woodmen, - — 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Mr 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Mr. 
 
 Mr. 
 CMr. 
 I Mr. 
 J Mr. 
 [Mr. 
 
 Bransbv* 
 
 Powell. 
 
 Lee. 
 
 Burton. 
 
 Castle. 
 
 ACKMAN. 
 
 Baddely. 
 
 Parsons. 
 
 Fox. 
 
 Marr. 
 
 Watkins. 
 
 Strange. 
 
 Arethufa, — — Mifs Bride. 
 
 Eupbrafta, (difguifed up- 7 Mrg> Yates> 
 tter the Name of Bellario) 5 
 Megra, (a Spaniili Lady) Mrs. Lee. 
 Galatea, — — Mifs Mills. 
 
 Lady, — Mrs. Hippisley. 
 
 Scene, SICILY.
 
 PHILASTE 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 SCENE, an Ants chamber in the Palace. 
 Enttr Dion, Cleremont, and Thrafiline. 
 
 Cleremont. 
 
 HERE's nor Lords, nor Ladies 
 Dion. Credit me, Gentlemen, I wonder at 
 it. They receiv'd ftridt Charge from the 
 King to attend here: Befides, it was loudly 
 publifh'd, that no Officer mould forbid any Gentle- 
 men that defired to attend and hear. 
 Cle. Can you gueis the Caufe ? 
 Dion. Sir, it is plain, about the SpaniJIj Prince; that's 
 come to marry our Kingdom's Lleir, and be our So- 
 vereign. 
 
 Cle. Many, that will feem to know much, fay, me 
 looks not on him like a Maid in Love. 
 
 Tbra. They lay too, moreover, that the Lady Megra 
 Ment hither by the Queen of Span?, Pharamond's Mo- 
 
 B ther,
 
 2 P H I L A S T E R. 
 
 ther, to grace the Train of Jrethufa, and attend her to 
 her new Home, when efpoufed to the Prince) carries 
 herfelf fomewhat too familiarly towards Pbaramond ; and 
 it is whifper'd, that there is too dole an Intercourfe 
 between him and that Lady. 
 
 Dion. Troth, perhaps, there may ; tho' the Multitude 
 (that feldom know any thing but their own Opinions) 
 fpeak what they would have. But the Prince, before 
 his own Approach, receiv'd lb many confident Mef- 
 fages from the State, and bound himfelf by fuch 
 indiffoluble Engagements, that, I think, their Nup- 
 tials muft go forwards, and that the Princefs is re- 
 •folvM to be ruled. 
 
 Cle. Sir, is it thought, with her he mall enjoy both 
 thefe Kingdoms of Sicily and Calabria ? 
 
 Dion. Sir, it is, without Controverfy, lb meant. 
 But 'twill be a troublefome Labour for him to enjoy 
 both thefe Kingdoms with Safety, the right Heir to 
 one of them living, and living fo virtuoufly ; efpe- 
 cially, the People admiring the Bravery of his Mind, 
 and lamenting his Injuries. 
 
 Cle. Who, Pbilafter? 
 
 Dion. Yes, whofe Father, we all know, was by our 
 late King of Calabria unrighteoully depos'd from his 
 fruitful Sicily. Myfelf drew fome Blood in thofe Wars, 
 which I would give my Hand to be wafh'd from. 
 
 Cle. Sir, my Ignorance in State-Policy will not let 
 me know, why, Pbilafter being Heir to one of thefe 
 Kingdoms, the King mould fuffer him to walk abroad 
 with fuch free Liberty. 
 
 Dion. Sir, it feems, your Nature is more conflant 
 than to enquire after State-News. But the King, of 
 la r e, made a Hazard of both the Kingdoms o£ Sicily 
 and his own, with offering but to imprifon Pbilafter. 
 At which the City was in Arms, not to be charm'd 
 clown by any State-Order or Proclamation, till they 
 law Pbilafter ride through the Streets pleas'd, and 
 without a Guard •, at which they threw their Hats, 
 
 and
 
 PHILASTER. 3 
 
 and their Arms from them ; feme to make Bonfires, 
 fome to drink, all for his Deliverance : Which, wife 
 Men fay, is the Caufe the King labours to bring in the 
 Power of a Foreign Nation to awe his own with. 
 
 [Flourijb. 
 Thra. Peace, the King. 
 
 Scene draws, and di '] "covers /^King, Pharamond, 
 Arethufa, and Train 
 
 King. To give a ftronger Teftimony of Love 
 Than iickly Promifes (which commonly 
 In Princes find both Birth and Burial 
 In one Breath) we have drawn you, worthy Sir, 
 To make your fair Indearments to our Daughter, 
 And worthy Services known to our Subjects, 
 Now lov'd and wonder'd at : Next, our Intent 
 To plant you deeply, our immediate Heir, 
 Both to our Blood and Kingdoms. For this Lady, 
 (The belt Pari of your Life, as you confirm me, 
 And I believe) though her few Years and Sex 
 Yet teach her nothing but her Fears and Blufhes; 
 Think not, dear Sir, thefe undivided Parts, 
 That muft mould up a Virgin, are put on 
 To fliew her fo, as borrow'd Ornaments ; 
 To fpeak her perfect Love to you, or add 
 An artificial Shadow to her Nature. 
 Lad, noble Son, (for fo I now mult call you) 
 What I have done thus publick, is not only 
 To add a Comfort in particular 
 To yon or me, but all •, and to confirm 
 The Nobles, and the Gentry of thefe Kingdoms, 
 By Oath to your Succeflion, which fhall be 
 Within this Month at mofl. 
 
 Pha. Killing your white Hand, Miftrefs, ItakeLeave, 
 To thank your Royal Father j and thus far, 
 To be my own free Trumpet. Underftand, 
 Great King, and thefe your Subjects ! Gentlemen, 
 Believe me in a Word, a Prince's Word, 
 There fhall be nothing to make up aKingdom 
 
 B 2 Mighty,
 
 
 4 PHILASTER. 
 
 Mighty, and flourifhing, defenced, fear'd, 
 
 Equal to be commanded and obey'd, 
 
 But through the Travels of my Life I'll find it, 
 
 And tie it to this Country. And I vow, 
 
 My Reign fhall be fo eafy to the Subject, 
 
 That ev'ry Man fhall be his Prince himfelf, 
 
 And his own Law; (yet I his Prince and Law.) 
 
 And dearefl Lady, let me fay, you are 
 
 The Blefled'ft living •, for, fweet Princefs, you 
 
 Shall make him your's, for whom great Queens muft die. 
 
 Thra. Miraculous! 
 
 Cle. This Speech calls himSpaniard^be'mg nothing but 
 A large Inventory of his own Commendations. 
 But here comes one more worthy thofe large Speeches, 
 Than the large Speaker of them. 
 
 Enter Philafler. 
 
 Phi. Right noble Sir, as low as my Obedience^ 
 And with a Heart as loyal as my Knee, 
 I beg your Favour. 
 
 King. Rife ; you have it, Sir. 
 Speak your Intents, Sir. 
 
 Phi. Shall I fpeak 'em freely ?— — j 
 Be ftill 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 flare, nor put on Wonder, for you muft 
 Indure me, and you fhall. This Earth you tread on 
 (A Dowry, as you hope, with this fair Princefs) 
 By my dead Father (Oh ! I had a Father, 
 Whofe Memory I bow to) was not left 
 To your Inheritance, and I up and living - 3 
 Having myfelf about me and my Sword, 
 The Souls of all mv Name, and Memories, 
 
 TJiefe
 
 PHILASTER. 5 
 
 Thefe Arms and fome few Friends, befides the Gods, 
 To part fo calmly with it, and fit ftill, 
 And fay, / might have been. I tell thee, Pharamond, 
 When thou art King, look, I be dead and rotten, 
 And my Name Ames : For hear me, Pharamond, 
 This very Ground thou goeft on, this fat Earth, 
 My Father's Friends made fertile with their Faiths, 
 Before that Day of Shame, fhall gape and fwallow 
 Thee and thy Nation, like a hungry Grave, 
 Into her hidden Bowels : Prince, it mail ; 
 By Nemefis, it mall. 
 
 King. You do difpleafe us : 
 Your are too bold. 
 
 Phi. No, Sir, I am too tame, 
 Too much a Turtle, a Thing born without PafTion, 
 A faint Shadow, that every drunken Cloud fails over, 
 And maketh noihing. 
 
 Pba. What you have feen in me to flir Offence, 
 I cannot find ; unlefs it be this Lady 
 Offered into mine Arms, with the Succeflion, 
 Which I muft keep, though it hath pleas'd your Fury 
 To mutiny within you. The King grants it, 
 And I dare make it mine. You have your Anfwer. 
 
 Phi. If thou wert fole Inheritor to him 
 That made the World his, and were Pharamond 
 As truly valiant, as I feel him cold, 
 And ring'd among the choiceft of his Friends, 
 And from this Prefcnce, fpite of all thefe Stops, 
 You mould hear further from me. 
 
 King. Sir, you wrong the Prince : 
 I gave you not this Freedom to brave our beft Friends, 
 You do deferve our Frown : Go to, be better temper'd : 
 
 Phi. It muft be, Sir, when I am nobler us'd. 
 
 King. Philcfier, tell me 
 The Injuries you aim at in your Riddles. 
 
 Phi. If you had my Eyes, Sir, and Sufferance, 
 My Griefs upon you, and my broken Fortunes, 
 My Wants great, and now nought but Hopes and Fears, 
 
 My
 
 6 PHILASTER. 
 
 My Wrongs would make ill Riddles to be laughed a?. 
 
 Dare you be {till my King, and right me not ? 
 
 King. Go to : 
 Be more your Self, as you refpect our Favour •, 
 You'll itir us elie : Sir, I muft have you know- 
 That you' re, and fhall be, at our Pleafure, what Fafhion we 
 Willputupon you : SmoothyourBrow, orby theGods— r 
 
 Phi. I am dead, Sir, you're my Fate : It was not 1 
 Said I was wrong'd : I carry all about me 
 My weak Stars led me to, all my weak Fortunes. 
 Who dares in all this Prefence fpeak, (that is 
 But Man of Flem and may be mortal) tell me, 
 I do not molt entirely love this Prince, 
 And honour his full Virtues ! 
 
 King. Sure, he's pofleft. 
 
 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 whifpers to me, thefe be all my Subjects. 
 'Tis ftrange, he will not let me deep, but dives 
 Into my Fancy, and there gives me Shapes 
 That kneel, and do me Service, cry me King : 
 But I'll fupprefs 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 : 
 For this Time I pardon your wild Speech. 
 
 [Exeunt King, Pha. Are. and 'Train, 
 
 Dion. See, how his Fancy labours : Has he not 
 Spoke home, and bravely ? What a dangerous Train 
 Did he give Fire to ! Flow he fhook the King ! 
 Made his Soul melt within him, and his Blood 
 Run into Whey ! It flood upon his Brow 
 Like a cold Winter Dew. 
 
 Phi. Gentlemen, 
 You have no Su't to me : I am no Minion : 
 You ftand, methinks,like Men that would beCourtiers, 
 If you could well be flatter'd at a Price, 
 Not to undo Four Children : You're all honeft : 
 
 Go
 
 PHILASTEK. > 
 
 Go get you home again, and make your Country 
 A virtuous Court ; to which your Great Ones may, 
 In their difeafed Age,- retire, and live reclufe. 
 
 Cle. How do you, worthy Sir ? 
 
 Phi. Well, very well, 
 And fo well, trnt if the King pleafe, I find, 
 I may live many Years. 
 
 Dion. The King muft pleafe, 
 Whilft we know what you are, and who you are, 
 Your WrOngs and Injuries : Shrink not, worthy Sir, 
 But add your Father to you : In whole Name 
 We'll waken all the Gods, and conjure up 
 The Rods of Vengeance, the abufed People.; 
 "Who, like to raging Torrents, fhall iwell high, 
 And fo begirt the Dens of thefe Male-Dragoons, 
 That, through the ftrongcft Safety, they (hall beg 
 For Mercy at your Sword's Point. 
 
 Phi. Friends, no more ; 
 Our Ears may be corrupted : 'Tis an Age 
 We dare not truft our Wills to : Do you love me ? 
 
 Thra. Do we love Heav'n and Flonour ? 
 
 Phi. My Lord Dion, 
 You hid a virtuous Gentlewoman calTd you Father : 
 Is flie yet alive ? 
 
 Dion. Mod honoured Sir, me is: 
 And for the Penance but of an idle Dream, 
 Has undertook a tedious Pilgrimage. 
 
 Enier a Lady. 
 
 Phi Is it to me, or any of thefe Gentlemen you come"? 
 Lady. To you, brave Lord-, the Princefs would intreat 
 Your prefent Companv. 
 
 Phi. Kifs her fair Hand, and lay, I will attend her. 
 
 Dion. Do you know what you d j ? 
 
 Phi. Yes, go to fee a Woman. 
 
 Cle. But do you weigh the Danger you are in? 
 
 Phi. Danger in a fweet Face ? 
 
 Her
 
 8 PHILASTER; 
 
 Her Eye may moot me dead, or thofe true red 
 
 And white Friends in her Face may {leal my Soul out : 
 
 There's all the Danger in't : But be what may, 
 
 Her Tingle Name hath armed me. [Exit. 
 
 Dion. Go on : 
 And be as truly happy as thou art fearlefs : 
 Come, Gentlemen, let's make our Friends acquainted, 
 Left the King prove falfe. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene changes to another Apartment. 
 Enter Arethufa and a Lady. 
 
 Are. Comes he not ? 
 
 Lady. Madam ? 
 
 Are. Will Philafier come ? 
 
 Lady. Dear Madam, you were wont 
 To credit me at firft. 
 
 Are. But didft thou tell me fo ? 
 I am forgetful, and my Woman's Strength 
 Is fo o'ercharg'd with Danger like to grow 
 About my Marriage, that thefe under Things 
 Dare not abide in fuch a troubled Sea : 
 How look'd he, when he told thee he would come ? 
 
 Lady. Why, well. 
 
 Arc. And not a little fearful ? 
 
 Lady. Fear, Madam? Sure he knows not what it is. 
 
 Are. You are all of his Faction •, the whole Court 
 Is bold in Praife of him ; whilft I 
 May live neglected, and do noble Things, 
 As Fools in Strife throw Gold into the Sea, 
 Drown'd 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 thofe plain Words I fent 
 With fuch a winning Gefture, and quick Look, 
 That you have caught him ? 
 
 Lady. Madam, I mean to you. 
 
 Are. Of Love to me ? Alas ! thy Ignorance 
 Lets thee not fee the Croffes of our Births. 
 
 Nature
 
 PHILASTER. 9 
 
 Nature, that loves not to be queftion'd why 
 She did or this, or that, but has her Ends, 
 And knows (he does well, never gave the World 
 Two Things fo oppofite, fo contrary, 
 As He, and I am. 
 
 Lady. Madam, I think I hear him. 
 
 Are. Bring him in : [Exit Lady. 
 
 You Gods, that would not have your Dooms withftood, 
 Whofe holy Wifdorns at this Time it is, 
 To make the PafTion of a feeble Maid 
 The Way unto your Juflice, I obey. 
 
 Re-enter Lady and Philafter. 
 
 Lady. Here is my Lord Philajler. 
 
 Are. Oh! 'tis well: 
 Withdraw yourfelf. [Exit Lady. 
 
 Phi. Madam, your MefTenger 
 Made me believe, you wifh'd to fpeak with me. 
 
 Are. 'Tis true, Philajler; - 
 Have you known, 
 
 That I have ought detracted from your Worth ? 
 Have I in Perfon wrong'd you ? Or have fet 
 My bafer Inftruments to throw Difgrace 
 Upon your Virtues ? 
 
 Phi. Never, Madam, you. 
 
 Are. Why then mould you, in fuch a public Place, 
 Injure a Princefs, and a Scandal lay 
 Upon my Fortunes, fam'd to be fo great ; 
 Calling a great Part of my Dowry in Queftion ? 
 
 Phi. Madam, thisTruth, which I fhallfpeak, will feem 
 Foolifh : But for your fair and virtuous Self, 
 I could afford myfelf to have no Right 
 To any thing you wifh'd. 
 
 Are. Philajler, know, 
 I muft enjoy thefe Kingdoms, of Calabria 
 And Sicily : By Fate, I die, Philajler, 
 If I not calmly may enjoy them both. 
 
 C Phi.
 
 io PHILASTER. 
 
 Phi. I would do much to fave that noble Life : 
 Yet would be loth to have Pofterity 
 Find in our Stories, that Philafter gave 
 His Right unto a Scepter, and a Crown, 
 To fave a Lady's Longing. 
 
 Are. Nay, then hear :, 
 I muft, and will have them, and more. 
 
 Phi. What more ? Say, you would have my Life ; 
 Why, I will give it you •, for it is of me 
 A Thing fo loath'd, and unto you that afk 
 Of fo poor Ufe, I will unmov'dly hear. 
 
 Are. Fain would I fpeak, and yet the Words are fuch 
 I have to fay, and do fo ill befeem 
 The Mouth of Woman, that I wifh them faid, 
 And yet am loth to utter them. — Oh turn 
 Away thy Face! — a little bend thy Looks ! — 
 Spare, fpare me, Oh Philafter ! - 
 Phi. What means this ? 
 
 Are. But that my Fortunes hang upon this Hour, 
 But that Occafion urges me to fpeak, 
 And that perverfely to keep Silence now 
 Would doom me to a Life of Wretchednefs, 
 I could not thus have fummon'd thee, to tell thee, 
 The Thoughts of Pharamond are Scorpions to me, 
 More horrible than Danger, Pain or Death ! 
 Yes — I muft have thy Kingdoms— muft have thee ! 
 Phi. How me ? 
 
 Are. Thy Love ! —without which all the Land, 
 Difcovered yet, will ferve me for no Uie 
 But to be buried in. 
 Phi. Is't poffible ? 
 
 Are. With it, it were too little to bellow 
 On thee : Now, though thy Breath doth ftrike me dead, 
 (Which, know, it may) I have unript my Bread. 
 
 Phi. Madam, you are too full of noble Thoughts, 
 To lay a Train for this contemned Life, 
 W 7 hich you may have for afking : To fufpect 
 Were bafe, where I deferve no ill : Love you ! 
 
 By
 
 PHILASTER. it 
 
 By all my Hopes, I do, above my Life : 
 But how this PafTion fliould proceed from you 
 So violently — 
 
 Are. Another Soul, into my Body mot, 
 Could not have fill'd me with more Strength and Spirit, 
 Than this thy Breath : But lpend not hafty Time, 
 In feeking how I came thus : *Tis the Gods, 
 The Gods, that make me fo •, and, fure, our Love 
 Will be the nobler, and the better bleft, 
 In that the fecret Juftice of the Gods 
 Is mingled with it. Let us leave and part, 
 Left fome unwelcome Gueft mould fall betwixt. 
 
 Phi. 'Twill be ill, 
 I mould abide here long. 
 
 Are. 'Tis true, and worfe 
 You fhould come often : How mall we devife 
 To hold Intelligence, that our true Loves 
 On any new Occafion may agree. 
 What Path is bell to tread ? 
 
 Phi. I have a Boy 
 Sent by the Gods, I hope, to this Intent, 
 Not yet feen in the Court. Hunting the Buck, 
 I found him fitting by a Fountain-Side, 
 Of which he borrowed fome to quench his Thirft, 
 And paid the Nymph again as much in Tears; 
 A Garland lay by him, made by himfelf, 
 Of many feveral Flowers, bred in the Bay, 
 Stuck in that myftick Order, that the Rarenefs 
 Delighted me : But ever when he turned 
 His tender Eyes upon 'em, he would weep, 
 As if he meant to make 'em grow again. 
 Seeing fuch pretty helplefs Innocence 
 Dwell in his Face, I afk'd him all his Story; 
 He told me, that his Parents gentle dy'd, 
 Leaving him to the Mercy of the Fields, 
 Which gave him Roots ; and of the cryftal Springs, 
 Which did not ftop their Courfes ; and the Sun, 
 Which flill, hethank'd him, yielded him his Light; 
 
 C 2 Then
 
 i2 PHI L'ASTE R. 
 
 Then took he up his Garland, and did fhew, 
 What every. Flower, as Country People hold, 
 Did fignify •, and how all, ordered thus, 
 Exprefthis Grief-, and to my Thoughts did read 
 The prettied Lecture of his Country Art 
 That cou'd be wiih'd : So that, methought, I cou'4 
 Have ftudied it. I gladly entertain'd him, 
 Who was as glad to follow ; and have got 
 The truftieft, loving'ft, and the gentleft Boy, 
 That ever Matter kept : Him will I fend 
 To wait on you, and bear our hidden Love. 
 
 Enter Lady. 
 
 Are. 'Tis well; no more. 
 
 Lady. Madam, the Prince is come to do his Service. 
 
 Are. What will you do, Philafter, with yourfelf ? 
 pear, hide thyfelf. Bring in the Prince. 
 
 r/pi. Hide me from Pharamondl 
 When Thunder fpeaks, which is the Voice of Jove, 
 Though I do Reverence, yet I hide me not. 
 
 Are. Then, good Philafter, give him Scope and Way 
 In what he fays ; for he is apt to fpeak 
 What you are loth to hear : For my Sake do. 
 
 Phi. I will. 
 
 Enter Pharamond. 
 
 Pha. My Princely Miftrefs, as true Lovers ought^, 
 [ come to kifs thefe fair Flands -, and to fhew, 
 In outward Ceremonies, the dear Love 
 Writ in my Heart. 
 
 Phi. If I fnall have an Anfwer no directlier, 
 ] am gone. 
 
 Pha. To what would he have an Anfwer ? 
 
 /Ire. To his Claim unto the Kingdom. 
 
 Pha. I did forbear you, Sir, before the King. 
 
 Phi. Good Sir, do lb Mill; I would not talk with you. 
 
 Pha. But now the Time is fitter. 
 '':).. Pharamond, I loath
 
 PHILASTER, tj 
 
 I loath to brawl with fuch a Blafl: as thou, 
 Who art nought but a valiant Voice : But if 
 Thou fhalt provoke me further, Men fhall fay, 
 Thou werty and not lament it. 
 
 Pha. Do you flight 
 My Greatnels fo, and in the Chamber of the Princefs ! 
 
 Phi. It is a Place, to which, I mult confefs, 
 I owe a Reverence : But were't the Church, 
 Ay, at the Altar, there's no Place fo fafe, 
 Where thou dar'ft injure me, but I dare punifh thee: 
 Farewell. [Exit Philafter. 
 
 Pha. Infolent Boafter ! offer but to mention 
 Thy Right to any Kingdom — 
 
 Are. Let him go ; 
 He is not worth your Care. 
 
 Pha. My Areihufa ! 
 I hope our Hearts are Knit ; and yet (6 flow 
 State Ceremonies are, it may be long 
 Before our Hands be fo : If then you pleafe, 
 Being agreed in Heart, let us not wait 
 For Pomp and ^ircumftance, but folemnize 
 A private Nuptial, and anticipate 
 Delights, aid fo foretafte our Joys to come. 
 
 Are. My Father, Sir, is all in all to me ; 
 Nor can I give my Fancy or my Will 
 More Scope than he fhall warrant. When he bids 
 My Eye look up to Pbaramcnd for Lord, 
 I know my Duty ; but, till then, farewell. [Exit. 
 
 Pha. Nay ! — but there's more in this — fome happier 
 Man! 
 Perhaps PhUafter! — Sdeath ! let me not think on't. 
 — She muft be watch'd — He too muft be ta'en Care of, 
 Or all my Hopes of her and Empire reft 
 Upon a fandy Bottom. — If (he means 
 To wed me, well ; if not — I fwear Revenge. [Exit. 
 
 ACT
 
 H PHILASTER. 
 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 Scene, an Apartment in the Palace. 
 
 flnter Philafter and Bellario. 
 
 Phi. A ND thou fhalt find her honourable, Boy^ 
 
 /V Full of Regard unto thy tender Youth. 
 For thine own Modefty, and for my fake ? 
 Apter to give, than thou wilt be to afk, 
 Ay, pr deferve. 
 
 Bel. Sir, you did take me up 
 When I was nothing •, and only yet am fomething, 
 By being yours : You trufled me unknown ; 
 And that which you are apt to conftrue now 
 A fimple Innocence in me, perhaps, 
 Might have been Craft, the Cunning of a Boy 
 Hardened in Lies and Theft •, yet ventur'd You 
 To part my Miferies and me : For which, 
 I never can expect to ferve a Lady, 
 That bears more Honour in her Breaft than You. 
 
 Phi. But, Boy, it will prefer thee ; thou art young, 
 And bear'ft a childiih overflowing Love 
 To them that clap thy Cheeks, and fpeak thee fair. 
 But when thy Judgement comes to rule thofe Paflions, 
 Thou wilt remember beft thofe careful Friends, 
 That plac'd thee in the nobleft Way of Life. 
 She is a Princefs I prefer thee to. 
 
 Bel. In that fmall Time that I have feen the World, 
 I never knew a Man hafty to part with 
 A Servant he thought trufly : I remember, 
 My Father would prefer the Boys he kept To
 
 PHTLASTER. 15 
 
 To greater Men than he ; but did it not, 
 Till they were grown too fancy for himfelf. 
 
 Phi. Why, gentle Boy, I find no Fault at all 
 In thy Behaviour. 
 
 Bel. Sir, if I have made 
 A Fault of Ignorance, inftruct my Youth ; 
 I mail 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 pad all Hope 
 For once. What Mafter holds fo ftri£t a Hand 
 Over his Boy, that he will part with him 
 Without one Warning ? Let me be corrected, 
 To break my Stubbornnefs, if it be fo, 
 Rather than turn me off, and I fhali mend. 
 
 Phi. Thy Love doth plead fo prettily to ftay, 
 That, truft me, I could weep to part with thee. 
 Alas ! I do not turn thee off; thou know'fl, 
 It is my Bufinefs that doth call thee hence; 
 And, when thou art with her, thou dwell'ft with me : 
 Think fo, and 'tis fo *, and when Time is full, 
 That thou haft well difcharg'd this heavy Truft, > 
 Laid on fo 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 didft attend the Princefs. 
 
 Bel. I am gone ; 
 But fince I am to part with you, my Lord, 
 And none knows whether I fhall live to do 
 More Service for you, take this little Prayer: 
 Heav'nblefs your Loves, your Fights, all your Defigns ! 
 May fick Men, if they have your Willi, be well! 
 And Heav'n hate thole you curfe, though I be one t 
 
 [Exit. 
 Phi. The Love of Boys unto their Lords is ftrange ! 
 I have read Wonders of it ! yet this Boy, 
 For my Sake, (if a Man may judge by Looks, 
 
 And
 
 x6 philaster; 
 
 And Speech) would out-do Story. I may fee 
 
 A Day to pay him for his Loyalty. [Exit. 
 
 Scene changes to ArethufaV Apartment. 
 1 Enter Arethufa and a Lady. 
 
 'Are. Where's the Boy ? Where's Bellario ? 
 
 La. Within, Madam. 
 
 Are, Gave you him Gold to buy him Clothes ? 
 
 ha, I did. 
 
 Are. And has he don't ? 
 
 ha. Madam, not yet. 
 
 Are. 'Tis a pretty fad talking Boy ; is it not ? 
 
 Enter Galatea. 
 
 Are. O, you are welcome ! What good News^? 
 
 Gal. As good as any one can tell your Grace, 
 That fays fhe has done that you would have wifh'd. 
 
 Are. Haft thou difcovered then ? 
 
 Gal. I have. Your Prince, 
 Brave Pharamond's Difloyal. 
 
 Are. And with whom ? 
 
 Gal. Ev'n with the Lady we fufpect -, with Megra. 
 
 Are. O, where ! and when ? 
 
 Gal. I can difcover all. 
 
 Are. The King mail know this •, and if Deftiny, 
 To whom we dare, not fay, it Jhall not be, 
 Have not decreed it fo in lading Leaves, 
 Whofe fmalleft Characters were never chang'd, 
 This hated Match with Pharamond (hall break. 
 Run back into the Prefence, mingle there 
 Again with other Ladies ; leave the reft 
 To me. [Exit Gal. 
 
 W T here's the Boy ? 
 
 ha. Here, Madam. 
 
 Enter
 
 PHILASTER. 17 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Art. Why art thou ever melancholy ? Sir : 
 You are fad to change your Service : Is't not fo ? 
 
 Bel. Madam, I have not chang'd ; I wait on you, 
 To do him Service. 
 
 Are. Thou difclaim'ft in me •, 
 Tell me, Bellario^ thou can'ft fing and play ? 
 
 Bel. If Grief will give me Leave, Madam, I can. 
 
 Are. Alas ! what Kind of Grief can thy Years know ? 
 Had'ft a curft Matter when thou went'ft to School ? 
 Thou art not capable of other Grief: 
 Thy Brows and Cheeks are fmooth as Waters be, 
 When no Breath troubles them : Believe me, Boy, 
 Care feeks out wrinkled Brows and hollow Eyes, 
 And builds himfelf Caves to abide in them. 
 Come, Sir, tell me truly, does your Lord love me ? 
 
 Bel. Love, Madam ? I know not what it is. 
 
 Are. Can'ft thou know Grief, and never yet knew'ft 
 Love ? 
 Thou art deceiv'd, Boy •, does he Ipeak of me, 
 As if he wifh'd me well ? 
 
 Bel. If it be Love, 
 To forget all Refpect of his own Friends, 
 In thinking on your Face : If it be Love, 
 To fit crofs-arm'd, and figh away the Day, 
 Mingled with Starts, crying your Name as loud 
 And haftily, as Men i'th'Streets do Fire : 
 If it be Love, to weep himfelf away, 
 When he but hears of any Lady dead, 
 Or kilPd, becaufe it might have been your Chance : 
 If, when he goes to Reft ( which will not be J 
 'Twixt ev'ry Prayer he fays, he names you once 
 As others drop a Bead, be to be in Love : 
 Then, Madam, I dare fwear he loves you. 
 
 Are. O! 
 You are a cunning Boy, taught to deceive, 
 For your Lord's Credit : but thou know'it, a Falfehood 
 
 D lha t
 
 18 PHILASTER. 
 
 That bears this Sound, is welcomer to me, 
 Than any Truth, that fays, he loves me not. 
 Lead the Way, Boy. Do you attend me too ; 
 'Tis thy Lord's Bufinefs haftes me thus. Away."** 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene changes to another Apartment in the Palace. 
 
 , Enter Megra and Pharamond. 
 
 Meg. What then am I ? a poor negle&ed Stale! 
 Have I then been an idle toying She, 
 To fool away an Hour or two withal, 
 And then thrown by for ever ? 
 
 Pha. Nay, have Patience ! 
 
 Meg. Patience! I (hall go mad! why I fhall be 
 A Mark for all the Pages of the Court 
 To fpend their Wit upon ! 
 
 Pha. It (hall not be. 
 She, whofe Difhonour is not known abroad, 
 Is not at all difhonour'd. 
 
 Meg. Not difhonour'd! 
 Have we then been fo chary of our Fame, 
 So cautious think you, in our Courfe of Love 
 No Blot of Calumny has fall'n upon it ? Say, 
 What Charm has veil'd Sufpicion's hundred Eyes, 
 And who fhall itop the cruel Hand of Scorn ? 
 
 Pha. Ceafe your Complaints, reproachful and un- 
 kind ! 
 What could I do ? Obedience to my Father, 
 My Country's Good, my plighted Faith, my Fame, 
 Each Circumftance of State and Duty, afk'd 
 The Tender of my Hand to Arethufa. 
 
 Meg. Talk not of Arethufa ! She, I know, 
 Would fain get rid of her moft precious Bargain. 
 She is for fofter Dalliance ; fhe has got 
 #\ Cherub, a young Hylas, an Adonis ! 
 
 Pha. What mean you ? 
 
 Meg. She, good Faith, has her Bellariof 
 A Boy — about Eighteen — a pretty Boy ! 
 jWhy this is he that rnuft when you are wed Sit
 
 P H I L A S T E R. .: 19 
 
 Sit by your Pillow, like a young Apollo 
 Sing, play upon the Lute, with Hand and Voice 
 BindingyourThoughtsin Sleep: She does provide- him 
 For you and for herfelf. 
 
 Pha. Injurious Megra ! 
 Oh, add not Shame to Shame ! To rob a Lady 
 Of her good Name thus, is an heinous Sin, 
 Not to be pardon'd ; yet, though falfe as Hell, 
 'Twill never be redeem'd, if it befown 
 Amongft the People, fruitful to increafe 
 All Evil they mall hear. 
 
 Meg. It mall be known. 
 Nay, more, by Heav'n 'tis true ! a thoufand Things 
 Speak it, beyond all Contradiction, true : 
 Obferve how brave ihe keeps him •, how he (lands 
 For ever at her beck ! There's not an Hour, 
 Sacred howe'er to female Privacy, 
 But he's admitted j and in open Court 
 Their tell-tale Eyes hold foft Difcourfe together. , 
 Why, why is all this ? Think you fbe's content 
 To look upon him ? 
 
 Pha: Make it but appear 
 That ihe has play'd the Wanton with this Stripling, r 
 All Spain as well as Sicily fhall know 
 Her foul Difhonour, I'll difgrace her firft, ■ . - . 
 Then leave her to her Shame. 
 Meg. You are refolv'd. 
 Pha. Molt conitantly. 
 Meg. The reft remains with me : 
 ' I will produce fuch Proofs, that fhe (hall know 
 I did not leave our Country, and degrade 
 Our Spanim Honour and Nobility, 
 To Hand a mean Attendant in her Chamber, 
 With hood-wink'd Eyes, and Finger. on my Lips. 
 What I have feen, I'll fpeak ; what known, proclaim : 
 Her Story mall be general as the Wind, 
 And fly as far. — I will about it ftrait. 
 Expect News from me, Pharamond. Farewell* 
 
 [Exit. 
 D 2 Pharaaaofld
 
 20 P H I L A S T E R. 
 
 Pharamond alone. 
 
 True or not true, one Way I like this well, 
 For I fufpect the Princefs loves me not. 
 If Megra's Charge prove Malice, her own Ruin 
 Muft follow, and I'm quit of her for ever : 
 But if fhe makes Sufpicjons Truths, or if, 
 Which were as deep Confufion, Arethufa 
 Difdain our proffer'd Union, and Philajier 
 Stand foremoft in her Heart, let Megra's Proofs 
 Wear but the Semblance, and the Garb of Truth, 
 They fhall afford me Meafure of Revenge. 
 I will look on with an indifferent Eye, 
 Prepar'd for either Fortune •, or to wed 
 Jf fhe prove faithful, or repulfe her fham'd. [Exit. 
 
 Scene, the Prefence Chamber. 
 
 Enter Dion, Cleremont, Thrafiline, Megra, and 
 Galatea. 
 
 Dion. Come, Ladies, mall we talk a Round ! 
 t^Gal. 'Tis late. 
 Meg. *Tis all 
 My Eyes will do to lead me to my Bed, 
 
 Enter Pharamond. 
 
 rfhra. The Prince ! 
 
 Pha. Not a- bed, Ladies ! You're good Sitters up, 
 What think you of a pleafant Dream, to laft 
 Till Morning ? 
 
 Enter Arethufa and Bellario. 
 
 Are. 'Tis well, my Lord, you're courting of Ladies. 
 ' Is't not late, Gentlemen ? 
 Cle. Yes, Madam. 
 Are. Wait you there. [Exit Arethufa. 
 
 Meg.
 
 philaster; 21 
 
 Meg. She's jealous, as I live. Look you, my Lord, 
 The Princefs has a Boy ! 
 
 Pba. His Form is Angel-like ! 
 
 Dion. Serves he the Princefs ? 
 
 'Tbra. Yes. r 
 
 Dion. 'Tis a fweet Boy ! 
 
 Pba. Ladies all, good Reft : I mean to kill a Buck 
 To-morrow Morning, 'ere you've done your Dreams. 
 
 [Exit Phar. 
 
 Meg. All Happinefs attend your Grace ! Gentle- 
 men, good Rett. 
 
 Gal. All, Good Night. 
 
 [Ex. Gal. and Meg. 
 
 Dion. May your Dreams be true to you ! 
 What fhall we do, Gallants ? 'Tis late. The King 
 Is up ftill. See, he comes, and Arethufa 
 With him. 
 
 Enter King, Arethufa and Guard. 
 
 King. Look, your Intelligence be true. 
 
 Are. Upon my Life, it is : And I do hope, 
 Your Highnefs will not tie me to a Man, 
 That in the Heat of Wooing throws me off, 
 And takes another. 
 
 Dion. What mould this mean ? 
 
 King. If it be true, 
 That Lady had much better have embrac'd 
 Curelefs Difeafes. Get you to your Reft. 
 
 Ex. Are. and Bel. 
 You fhall be righted. Gentlemen, draw near : 
 Hafte, fome of you, and cunningly difcover 
 If Megra be in her Lodging. 
 
 Cle. Sir, 
 She parted hence but now with other Ladies. 
 
 King. I would fpeak with her. 
 
 Dion. She's here my Lord. 
 
 Enter
 
 PHILASTER. 
 
 Enter Megra. 
 
 King. Now Lady of Honour, where's your Honour 
 now ? 
 No Man can fit your Palate, but the Prince, 
 Thou troubled Sea of Sin-, thou Wilderneft, 
 Inhabited by wild Affections, tell me, 
 Had you none to pull on with your Courtefies 
 But he that muft be mine, and wrong my Daughter ? 
 By all the Gods! all thefe, and all the Court 
 Shall hoot thee, and break fcurvy Jefts upon thee, 
 Make ribald Khimes, and fear thy Name on 'Walls. 
 
 Meg. I dare, my Lord, your Hootings and your 
 Clamours. 
 Your private Whifpers, and your broader Fleerings, 
 Can no more vex my Soul, than this bafe Carriage, 
 The poor Deftruction of a Lady's Honour, 
 The publishing the Weaknefs of a Woman. 
 But I have Vengeance yet in Store for fome, 
 Shall, in the utmofl Scorn you can have of me, 
 Be Joy and Nourifhment. 
 
 King.. What means the Wanton ? 
 D'ye glory in your Shame ? 
 
 Meg. I will have Fellows, 
 Such Fellows in't, as fhall make noble Mirth. 
 The Princefs, your dear Daughter, fhall fland by me, 
 On Walls, and fung in Ballads, any thing. 
 
 King. My Daughter ? 
 
 Meg. Yes, your Daughter, Arethufa r 
 The Glory of your Sicily, which I, 
 A Stranger to your Kingdom, laugh to Scorn. 
 
 1 know her Shame, and will difcover all; 
 Nay, will difhcnour her. I know the Boy 
 She keeps, a handfome Boy, about Eighteen ; 
 Know whatfhe does with him, and where, and when. 
 Come, Sir, you put me to a Woman's Madnefs, 
 
 The Glory of a Fury. 
 King. What Boy's this 
 
 2 She
 
 PHlLASTfcR. 13 
 
 She raves about ? 
 
 Meg. Alas, good-minded Prince! 
 You know not thefe Things : I will make them plain. 
 I will not fall alone: What I have known 
 Shall be as public as a Print : All Tongues 
 Shall lpeak it, as they do the Language they 
 Are born in, as free and commonly : I'll fet h 
 Like a prodigious Star, for all to gaze at; 
 And that fo high and glowing, other Realms, 
 Foreign and far, fhall read it there ; and then 
 $ehold the Fall of your fair Princefs too. 
 
 [Exit< 
 King. Has fhe a Boy ? 
 Cic. So, pleaie your Grace, Pve ftej 
 A Boy wait on her, a fair Boy. 
 
 King. Away ! I'd be alone : Go, get you to your 
 Quarters. 
 
 [Exeunt, 
 Manet King. 
 
 You Gods, I fee, that who unrighteoufly 
 Holds Wealth or State from others, (hall be curft 
 In that which meaner Men are blell withal : 
 Ages to come fhall know no Male of him 
 Left to inherit, and his Name fhall be 
 Blotted from Earth. If he have any Child, 
 It (hall be crofsly match'd. The Gods themfelves 
 Shall fow wild Strife between her Lord and her ; 
 Or fhe fhall prove his Curfe, who gave her Beinc. 
 Gods! if it be your Wills — -But how can I 
 Look to be heard of Gods, who muft be juft, 
 Praying upon the Ground, I hold by Wrong? 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 ACT
 
 24 PHILASTER. 
 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 SCENE, the Court. 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 OThat I had a Sea 
 , Within my Bread, to quench the Fire I feel 
 More Circumftances will but fan this Fire. 
 It more afflicts me now, to know by whom 
 This £)eed is done, than fimply that 'tis done. 
 Woman, frail Sex ! the Winds that are let loofe 
 From the four feveral Corners of the Earth, 
 And fpread themfelves all over Sea and Land, 
 Kifs not a chafte one ! Taken with her Boy ! 
 O, that, like Beafls, we could not grieve onrfelves 
 With what we fee not ! Bulls and Rams will fight 
 To keep their Females {landing in their Sight ; 
 But take 'em from them, and you take at once 
 Their Spleens away •, and they will fall again 
 Unto their Paftures, growing frefh and fat ; 
 And tafte the Water of the Springs as fweet 
 As 'twas before, finding no Start in Sleep. 
 But miierable Man — See, fee, you Gods, 
 
 [Seeing Bellario at a Diftance. 
 He walks flill ! and the Face, you let him wear 
 When he was innocent, is ilill the fame, 
 Not bkfred. Is this Juftice ? Do you mean 
 To intrap Mortality, that you allow 
 Treaion lb lmooth a Brow ? 
 
 Enter
 
 PHILASTER, 25 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 I cannot now 
 Think he is guilty. 
 
 Bel. Health to you, my Lord ! 
 The Princefs doth commend her Love, her Life, 
 And this unto you. [Gives a Letter. 
 
 Phi. Oh Bellario, 
 Now I perceive fhe loves me •, (lie does fhew it 
 In loving thee, my Boy •, fh'as made thee brave. 
 
 Bel. My Lord, fhe has attired me pail my Willi, 
 Paft my Defert ; more fit for her Attendant, 
 Though far unfit for me, who do attend. 
 
 Phi. Thou art grown courtly, Boy. O, let all Wo- 
 men, [Reads. 
 That love black Deeds, learn to diflemble here ! 
 Here, by this Paper {he does write to me, 
 As if her Heart were Mines of Adamant 
 To all the World befides •, but, unto me 
 A maiden Snow that melted with my Looks. 
 Tell me, my Boy, how doth the Princefs ufe thee ? 
 For I mail guefs her Love to me by that. 
 
 Bel Scarce like her Servant, but as if I were 
 Something allied to her, or had preferv'd 
 Her Life three Times by my Fidelity : 
 As Mothers fond do ufe their only Sons ; 
 As I'd ufe one that's left unto my Truft, 
 For whom my Life fhould pay, if he met Harm; 
 So fhe does uie me. 
 
 Phi. Why, this is wondrous well: 
 But what kind Language does fhe feed thee with ? 
 
 Bel. Why, fhe does tell me, fhe will truft my Youth 
 With all her loving Secrets; and does call me 
 Her pretty Servant •, bids me weep no more 
 For leaving you ; fhe'll fee my Services 
 Rewarded ; and fuch Words of that foft. Strain, 
 
 E That
 
 26 PHIL ASTER. 
 
 That I am nearer weeping when fhe ends 
 Than e'er fhe fpake. 
 
 Phi. This is much better flill. 
 
 Bel. Are you not ill, my Lord ? 
 
 Phi. 111! No, Belhrio. 
 
 Bel. Methjnks your Words ' 
 Fall not from off your Tongue fo evenly, 
 Nor is there in your Looks that Quietaefs, 
 That I was wont to fee. 
 
 Phi. Thou art deceiv'd, Boy : 
 And me ftroaks thy Head ? ' 
 
 BeL Yes. 
 
 Phi. And does clap thy Cheeks ? 
 
 BeL_ She does, my Lord. 
 
 Phi. And me does kifs thee, Boy? ha! 
 
 Bel, How, my Lord ! 
 
 Phi. She kiffes thee ? 
 
 Bel. Not fo, my Lord. 
 
 Phi. Come, come, I know fhe does. 
 
 Bel. No,, by my Life. 
 
 Phi. Why, then, {he does not love me ; come, fhe does, 
 I bad her do it ; I charg'd her by all Charms 
 Of Love between us, by the Hope of Peace 
 We fhould enjoy, to yield thee all Delights. 
 Tell me, gentle Boy, 
 
 Is fhe not paft Compare ? Is not her Breath 
 Sweet as Arabian Winds, when Fruits are ripe ? 
 Is fhe not all a lading Mine of Joy ? 
 
 Bel. Ay, now I fee why my difturbed Thoughts 
 Were fo perplex t. When firft I went to her, 
 My Heart held Augury ; you areabus'dj 
 Some Villain has abus'd you : I do fee 
 Whereto you tend : Fall Rocks upon his Head, 
 That put this to you! 'tis fomefubtle Train, 
 To bring that noble Frame of yours to nought. 
 
 Phi. Thou think'ft, I will be angry with thee; come, 
 Thou (halt know all my Drift : I hate her more 
 Than I love Happinefs ; and plac'd thee there, 
 
 To
 
 P_H ILASTER. I? 
 
 To pry with narrow Eyes into her Deeds. 
 
 Haft thou difcover'd ? Is fhe fain to Lull, 
 
 As I would with her ? Speak fome Comfort to me. 
 
 Bel. My Lord, you did miftake the Boy you fent : 
 Had fhe a Sin that way, hid from the World, 
 Beyond the Name of Sin, I would not aid 
 Her bafe Defires ; but what I came to know 
 As Servant to her, . I would not reveal, 
 To make my Life laft Ages. 
 
 Phi. Oh, my Heart} 
 This is a Salve worfe than the main Difeafe. 
 Tell me thy Thoughts ; for I will know the lealt- 
 That dwells within thee, or will rip thy Heart 
 To know it ; I will fee thy Thoughts as plain 
 As I do now thy Face. 
 
 Bel. Why, fo you do. 
 She is (for ought I know) by all the Gods, 
 As chafte as Ice •, but were (he foul as Hell, 
 And I did know it thus, the Breath of Kings, 
 The Points of Swords, Tortures, nor Bulls, or Brafs, 
 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 cou'd curfe thee now. 
 
 Bel. If you do hate, you could not curfe me worfe ; 
 The Gods have not a Punifhmentin Store 
 Greater for me, than is your Hate. 
 
 Phi. Fie, fie ! 
 So young and fo difiembling ! Tell me when 
 And where thou didft poiTefs her, or let Plagues 
 Fall on me ftrait, if I deftroy thee not ! 
 
 Bel. Heav'n knows, I never did : And when I lie 
 To fave my Life, may I live long and loath'd ! 
 Hew me afunder, and, whilftlcan think, 
 I'll love thofe Pieces you have cut away, 
 Better than thofe that grow \ and kifs thofe Limbs, 
 Becaufe you made them fo. 
 
 Phi. Fear'ft thou not Death ? 
 Can Boys contemn that ? Bel.
 
 2$ P H I L A S T E R; 
 
 Bel. Oh, what Boy is he 
 Can be content to live to be a Man, 
 That fees the beft of Men thus paflionate, 
 Thus without Reafon ? 
 
 Phi. Oh, but thou doft not know 
 What *tis to die. 
 
 Bel. Yes, I do know, my Lord ; 
 ■Tis lefs than to be born ; a lafting Sleep, 
 A quiet Refting from all Jealoufy ; 
 A Thing we all purfue: I know, befides, 
 It is but giving over of a Game 
 That muft be loft. 
 
 Phi. But there are Pains, falfe Boy, 
 For perjur'd Souls ; think but on thefe, and then 
 Thy Heart will melt, and thou wilt utter all. 
 
 Bel. May they fall all upon me whilft I live, 
 If I be perjur'd, or have ever thought 
 Of that you charge me with ! If I be falfe, 
 Send me to fuffer in thofe Puniihments 
 You fpeak of; kill me. 
 
 Phi. Oh, what fhou'd I do ? 
 Why, who can but believe him ? He does fwear 
 So earneflly, that if it were not true, 
 The Gods would not endure him. Rife, Bcllario $ 
 Thy Proteftations are fo deep, and thou 
 Doft look fo truly, when thou uttereft them, 
 That though I know 'em falfe, as were my Hopes, 
 I cannot urge thee further: But thou wert 
 To blame to injure me, for I muft love 
 Thy honeft Looks, and take no Vengeance on 
 Thy tender Youth : A Love from me to thee 
 Is firm whate'er thou doft : It troubles me, 
 That I havecall'd the Blood out of thy Cheeks, 
 That did fo well become them. But, good Boy, 
 Let me not fee thee more : Something is done, 
 That will diftract me, that will make me mad, 
 If I behold thee ; if thou tender'ft me, 
 Let me not fee thee. 
 
 Bel
 
 PHILASTER. 29 
 
 Bel. I will fly as far 
 As there is Morning, e'er I give Diftafte 
 To that mod honour'd Mind. But through thefe Tears, 
 Shed at my hopelefs Parting, I can fee 
 A World of Treafon practised upon you, 
 And Her, and Me. Farewell, (for evermore ! 
 If you fhall hear, that Sorrow ftruck me dead, 
 And after find me loyal, let there be 
 A Tear fhed from you in my Memory, 
 And I mail reft at Peace. [Exit Bel. 
 
 Phi. Blefiing be with thee, 
 Whatever thou deferv'ft! Oh, where fhall I 
 Go bathe this Body? Nature, too unkind, 
 That made no Medicine for a troubled Mind ! 
 
 [Exit Philafter. 
 
 Scene, ArethufaV Apartment. 
 
 1 
 
 Enter Arethufa. 
 
 Are. I marvel, my Boy comes not back again. 
 But that I know my Love will queftion him 
 Over and over \ how I flept, wak'd, talk'd ! 
 How I remembered him, when his dear Name 
 Was laft fpoke ! and how, when I figh'd, wept, fung, 
 And ten thoufand fuch ! I mould be angry at his Stay." 
 
 Enter King. 
 
 King. What, at your Meditations ! Who attends 
 you ? 
 
 Are. None but my fingle Self ; I need no Guard \ 
 I do no Wrong, nor fear none. 
 
 King. Tell me, have you not a Boy ? 
 
 Are. Yes, Sir. 
 
 King. What Kind of Boy ? 
 
 Are. A Page, a Waiting-Boy. 
 
 King. A handfome Boy ? 
 
 Are. I think he be not ugly ; 
 Well qualified, and dutiful, i know him ; 
 I took him not for Beauty. Kin<r.
 
 $ o PHILASTER. 
 
 King. He fpeaks, and fings, and plays ? 
 
 Are. Yes, Sir. 
 
 King. About Eighteen ? 
 
 Are. I never afk'd his Age. 
 
 King. Is he full of Service ? 
 
 Are. By your Pardon, why do you afk ? 
 
 King. Put him away. 
 
 Are. Sir ! 
 
 King. Put him away ; 'has done you that good 
 Service " 
 Shames me to fpeak of. 
 
 Are. Good Sir, let me underftand you. 
 
 King. If you fear me, 
 Shew it in Duty ; put away that Boy. 
 
 Are. Let me have Reafon for it, Sir, and then 
 Your Will is my Command. 
 
 King. Do you not blufh to afk it ? Caft him off, 
 Or I mail do the fame to you. You're one 
 Shame with me, and fo near unto myfelf, 
 That, by my Life, I dare not tell myfelf 
 What you have done. 
 
 ,Are. What have I done, my Lord ? 
 
 King. Underftand me well ; 
 There be foul Whifpers ftirring •, caft him off, 
 And fuddenly do it. Farewell. 
 
 [Exit King. 
 
 Are. Where may a Maiden live fecurely free, 
 Keeping her Honour fafe ? Not with the Living, 
 They feed upon Opinions, Errors, Dreams, 
 And make 'em Truths : They draw a Nourifhment 
 Out of Defamings, grow upon Difgraces, 
 And when they fee a Virtue fortified 
 Strongly above the Battery of their Tongues, 
 Oh, how they caft to fink it ; and defeated 
 (Soul-fick with Poifon) ftrike the Monuments 
 Where noble Names lie' fleeping. 
 
 Enter
 
 P.H.11ASTER. 3* 
 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 Phi. Peace to your faireft Thoughts, my deareft 
 Miftrefs ! 
 
 Are. Oh, my dear Servant, I have a War within me. 
 
 Phi. Hemuft be more than Man, that makes thefe 
 Cryftals 
 Run into Rivers. Sweeteft Fair, the Caufe ; 
 And as I am your Slave, tied to your Goodnefs, 
 Your Creature made again from what I was, 
 And newly fpirited, I'll right your Honours. 
 
 Are. Oh, my beft Love ; that Boy ! 
 
 Phi. What Boy ? 
 
 Are. The pretty Boy you gave me. 
 
 Phi. What of him ? 
 
 Are. Muft be no more mine. 
 
 Phi. Why? 
 
 Are. They are jealous of him. 
 
 Phi. Jealous! who ? 
 
 Are. The King. 
 
 Phi. Oh, my Fortune ! 
 Then 'tis no idle Jealoufy. Let him go. 
 
 Are. Oh cruel, 
 Are you hard-hearted too ? Who mail now tell you, 
 How much I lov'd you ? Who mail fwear it to you, 
 And weep the Tears I fend ? Who fhall now bring you 
 Letters, Rings, Bracelets, lofe his Health in Service ? 
 Wake tedious Nights in Stories of your Praife ? 
 Who now (hall fing your crying Elegies, 
 And ftrike a fad Soul into fenfelefs Pidures, 
 And make them mourn ? Who fhall take up his Lute^ 
 And touch it, till he crown a filent Sleep 
 Upon my Eyelid, making me dream and cry, 
 Oh my dear, dear Ph:lajier. 
 
 Phi. Oh, my Heart ! 
 Would he had broken thee, that made thee know 
 This Lady was not loyal ! Miftrefs, forget 
 
 3 The
 
 3* P H I L A S T E t. 
 
 The Boy, I'll get thee a far better one. 
 
 Are. Oh never, never, fuch 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 Defire to do well for itfelf : 
 Let all that fhall iucceed thee, for thy Wrongs, 
 Sell and betray chafte Love ? 
 
 Phi. And all this Paflion for a Boy ? 
 
 Are. He was your Boy ; you gave him to me, and 
 The Lofs of fuch mud have a Mourning for. 
 
 Phi. O thou forgetful Woman ! 
 
 Are. How, my Lord ? 
 
 Phi. Falfe Arethufa ! 
 Haft thou a Medicine to reftore my Wits, 
 When I have loft 'em ? If not, leave to talk, 
 And to do thus. 
 
 Are. Do what, Sir ? Would you fleep ? 
 
 Phi. For ever, Arethufa. Oh, you Gods, 
 Give me a worthy Patience : Have I ftood 
 Naked, alone, the Shock of many Fortunes ? 
 Have I feen Miichiefs numberlefs, and mighty, 
 Grow like a Sea upon me ? Have I taken 
 Danger as ftern as Death into my Bofom, 
 And laugh' d upon it, made it but a Mirth, 
 And flung it by ? Do 1 live now like him, 
 Under this Tyrant King, that languishing 
 Hears his fad Bell, and iees his Mourners ? Do I 
 Bear all this bravely, and muft fink at length 
 Under a Woman's Fallehood ? Oh, that Boy, 
 That curfed Boy! None but a villain Boy, 
 To eafe your Luft. 
 
 Are. Nay, then I am betray'd ; 
 I feel the Plot caft for my Overthrow ; 
 Oh, I am wretched. 
 
 Pit. Now you may take that little Right I have 
 
 To
 
 PHTLAST E R. 3J 
 
 To this poor Kingdom : Give it to your Boy ! 
 
 For I have no Joy, in it. Some far Place 
 
 Where never Womankind durft fet her Foot, 
 
 For burfting with her Poifons, mull I feek, 
 
 And live to curfe you : 
 
 There dig a Cave, and preach to Birds and Beads, 
 
 What Woman is, and help to fave them from you. 
 
 How Heav'n is in your Eyes, but in your Hearts 
 
 More Hell than Hell has ; how your Tongues, like 
 
 Scorpions, 
 Both heal and poifon : how your Thoughts are woven 
 With thoufand Changes in one fubtle Web, 
 And worn fo by you. How that foolifh Man, 
 That reads the Story of a Woman's Face, 
 And dies believing it, is loft for ever. 
 How all the Good you have, is but a Shadow, 
 Fth'Morning with you, and at Night behind you, 
 Pad and forgotten. How your Vows are Froft, 
 Fad for a Night, and with the next Sun gone. 
 How you are, being taken all together, 
 A mcer Confufion, and ibdeada Chaos, 
 That Love cnnnot diftinguilh. Thefe fad Texts, 
 Till my lad Hour, J am bound to utter of you. 
 So farewell all my Woe, all my Delight ! 
 
 [Exit. 
 Are. Be merciful, ye Gods, and ftrike me dead ; 
 What way have I deferv'd this ? Make my Bread 
 Tranfparent as pure Crydal, that the World, 
 Jealous of me, may fee the fouled Thought 
 My Heart holds. Where fhall a Woman turn her Eyes, 
 To find out Condancy ? Save me, how black, 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 And guiltily, methinks, that Boy looks now ? 
 Oh thou Difiembler, that, before thou fpak'ft, 
 
 F Wert
 
 3 4 PHILASTER. 
 
 Wert in thy Cradle falfe! Sent to make Lyes, 
 
 And betray Innocents j thy Lord and thou 
 
 May glory in the Allies of a Maid 
 
 Fool'd by her Paflion ; but the Conqueft is 
 
 Nothing fo great as wicked. Fly away, 
 
 Let my Command force thee to that, which Shame 
 
 Should do without it. If thou underftoodft 
 
 The loathed Office thou haft undergone, 
 
 Why, thou wouldft hide thee under Heaps of Hills, 
 
 Left Men fhould dig and find thee. 
 
 Bel. Oh what God, 
 Angry with Men, hath fent this ftrange Difeafe 
 Into the nobleft Minds ? Madam, this Grief 
 You add unto me is no more than Drops 
 To Seas, for which they are not feen to fwell ; 
 My Lord hath ftruck his Anger through my Heart, 
 And let out all the Hope of future Joys : 
 You need not bid me fly ; I came to part, 
 To take my lateft Leave. 
 I durft not run away in Honefty, 
 From fuch a Lady, like a Boy that ftole, 
 Or made fome grievous Fault. Farewell ! The Gods 
 Affift you in your SufPrings ! Hafty Time 
 Reveal the Truth to your abufed Lord, 
 And mine; that he may know your Worth! Whilft I 
 Gofeekout fome forgotten Place to die. 
 
 [Exit , 
 
 Are. Peace guide thee ! thou haft overthrown me 
 once, 
 Yet, if I had another Heaven to lofe, 
 Thou, or another Villain, with thy Looks, 
 Might talk me out of it. 
 
 Enter a Lady. 
 
 Lady. Madam, the King would hunt, andcaJls foryou 
 With Larneftnefs. 
 
 Are.
 
 PHILASTER. 
 Are. I am in Tune to hunt ! 
 Diana, if thou canft rage with a Maid, 
 As with a Man, let me difcover thee 
 Bathing, and turn me to a fearful Hind, 
 That I may die purfu'd by cruel Hounds, 
 And have my Story written in my Wounds. 
 
 15 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Tl 
 
 ACT.
 
 g6 P H 1 L A S T E R. 
 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 SCENE, a Wood. 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 OH, that I had been nourifh'd in thefe Woods 
 With Milk of Goats, and Acorns, and not known 
 The Right of Crowns, nor thediflembling Trains 
 Of Womens Looks •, but dig'd myfelf a Cave, 
 Where I, my Fire, my Cattle, and my Bed, 
 Might have been fhut together in one Shed ; 
 And then had taken me fome Mountain Girl, 
 Beaten with Winds, chafte as the harden'd Rocks 
 Whereon me dwells j that might have ftrew'd my Bed 
 With Leaves, and Reeds, and with' the Skins of Beafts 
 Our Neighbours ; and have borne at her big Breafts 
 My large coarfe Iflue ! This had been a Life 
 Free from Vexation. 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Bel. Oh, wicked Men ! 
 An Innocent may walk fafe among Beafts : 
 Nothing afTaults me here. See, my griev'd Lord 
 Looks as his Soul were fearching out the Way 
 To leave his Body. Pardon me, that muft 
 Break thro' thy laft Command ; for I muft fpeak : 
 You, that are griev'd, can pity ; hear, my Lord. 
 
 Phi. Is there a Creature yet fo miferable, 
 That I can pity ? 
 
 Bel. Oh, my noble Lord, 
 
 View
 
 PHILASTER. 37 
 
 View my ftrange Fortune, and beftow on me, 
 According to your Bounty (if my Service 
 Can merit nothing) fo much as may ierve 
 To keep that little Piece I hold of Life 
 From Cold and Hunger. 
 
 Phi. Is it thou ? Be gone : 
 Go, fell thofe mifbefeeming Cloaths thou wear'ft, 
 And feed thyfelf with them. 
 
 Bel. Alas! my Lord, I can get nothing for them: 
 ' The filly Country People think, 'tis. Treafon 
 To touch fuch gay Things. 
 
 Phi. Now, by my Life, this is 
 Unkindly done, to vex me with thy Sight; 
 Thou'rt fain again to thy diflembling Trade : 
 How fhouldft thou think to cozen me again ? 
 Remains there yet a Plague untry'd for me ? 
 Even fo thou wept'ft,and look'd'ft, and fpok'ft,whenfirfi: 
 I took thee up : Curfe on the Time ! If thy 
 Commanding Tears can work on any other, 
 Ufe thy old Art, I'll not betray it. Which 
 Way wilt thou take ? that I may fhun thee ; for 
 Thine Eyes arel^oifon unto mine ; and I 
 Am loth to grow in Rage. This Way, or that Way ? 
 
 Bel. Any will ierve. But I will chufe to have 
 That Path in Chafe that leads unto my Grave. 
 
 [Exeynt fever ally. 
 
 Enter Dion and the Woodmen. 
 
 Dion. This is the ftrangeft fudden Chance ! You, 
 Woodman ! — 
 
 i Wood. My Lord Lion. — 
 
 Dion. Saw you a Lady come this Way on a fable 
 Horfe liudded with Stars of White ? 
 
 2 Wood. Was Ihe not young and tall ? 
 
 Dion. Yes ; Rode me to the Wood, or to the Plain ? 
 
 2 Wood. Faith, my Lord, we faw none. 
 
 \Exemt Wood. 
 
 421151 Enter
 
 3 8 P.HILASTE R. 
 
 Dion. Pox of your Queftions then ! 
 
 Enter Cleremont. 
 
 What, is lhe found? 
 
 Cle. Nor will be, I think. There's already a thou- 
 fand fatherlefs Tales amongft us-, fome fay, her Horfe 
 run away with her •, fome a Wolf puriued her ; others., 
 it was a Plot to kill herj and that armed Men were 
 feen in the Wood : But, queftionlefs, lhe rode away 
 willingly. 
 
 Enter King, and Thrafiline. 
 
 King. Where is me ? 
 
 Cle. Sir, I cannot tell. 
 
 King. How is that ? 
 Sir, fpeak you where fhe is. 
 
 Dion. Sir, I do not know. 
 
 King. You have betray'd me, you have let me lofc 
 The Jewel of my Life: go, bring her me, 
 And kz her here before me •, 'tis thefeng 
 Will have it fo. Alas ! what are we Kings ? 
 Why do you, Gods, place us above the reft ; 
 To be ferv'd, flatter'd, and ador'd, till we 
 Believe, we hold within our Hands your Thunder ; 
 And when we come to try the Pow'r we have, 
 There's not a Leaf makes at our Threatenings. 
 I have finn'd, 'tis true, and here ftand to be punifh'd j 
 Yet would not thus be punifh'd. 
 
 £nter Pharamond, Galatea, and Megra. 
 
 King. What, is lhe found ? 
 Pha. No, we have ta'en her Horfe. 
 He gallop'd empty by •, There. is fome Treafon : 
 
 You
 
 P H I L A § T E R. 39. 
 
 You, Galatea^ rode with her into the Wood ; Why left 
 you her ? 
 
 Gal. She did command me. 
 
 King. You're all cuning to obey us for our Hurt ; 
 But I will have her. 
 
 Run all, diiperie yourfelves : The Man that finds her, 
 Or (if flie be kill'dj the Traitor ; I'll make him great. 
 
 Pha. Come, let us feek. 
 
 King. Each Man a feveral Way ; here I myfctf. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Another Part of the Wood, 
 
 Enter Arethufa. 
 
 Are. Where am I now ? Feet, find me out a Way, 
 Without the Counfel of my troubled Head ; 
 I'll follow you boldly about thefe Woods, 
 O'er Mountains, thorough Brambles, Pits, and Floods : 
 Heaven, I hope, will eale me. I am lick. 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Bel. Yonder's my Lady, Heav'n knows, I want 
 nothing, 
 Becaufe I do not wifn to live ; yet I 
 Will try her Charity. O hear, you that have Plenty, 
 And from that flowing Store, drop fome on dry 
 
 Ground : See, 
 The lively Red is gone to guard her Heart; (Jhe faints) 
 I fear, {he faints. Madam, look up ; fhe breathes not; 
 Open once more thoie rofy Twins, and fend 
 Unto my Lord, yourlateft Farewell; Oh, fheftirs: 
 How is it, Madam ? 
 
 Are. 'Tis not gently done, 
 To put me in a miierable Life, 
 And hold me there ; I pray thee, let me go, 
 I fhall do belt without thee ; I am well. 
 
 Enter 
 
 5
 
 40 P H I L A S t E R. 
 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 Phi. I am to blame to be fomuch in Rage: 
 I'll tell her cooly, when, and where I heard 
 This killing Truth. I will be temperate 
 In fpeaking, and as juft in hearing it. 
 Oh monftrous ! (feeing them) Tempt me not, ye Gods ! 
 
 good Gods, • 
 Tempt not a frail Man ! what's he, that has a Heart, 
 But he mull eafe it here ? 
 
 Bel. My Lord, help the Princefs. 
 
 Are. I am well, forbear. 
 
 Phi. Let me love Lightening, let me embrac'd 
 And kifs'd by Scorpions, or adore the Eyes 
 Of Bafilifks, rather than truft the Tongues, 
 Of Hell-bred Women ! Some good Gods look down, 
 And fhrink thefe Veins up ! flick me here a Stone, 
 Lafting to Ages in the Memory 
 Of this damn'd Act ! Hear me, you wicked Ones ! 
 You have put Hills of Fire into this Bread, 
 Not to be quench'd with Tears ; for which may Guilt 
 Sit on your Bofoms ! at your Meals, and Beds, 
 Defpair await you ! What, before my Face ? 
 Poifon of Alps between your Lips ! Difeafes 
 Be your bell IfTues ! Nature make a Curfe, 
 And throw it on you \ 
 
 Are. Dear Pbila/ler, leave 
 To be enrag'd, and hear me. 
 
 Phi. I have done ; 
 Forgive my Paftion. ■ Not the calmed Sea, 
 When Molus locks up his windy Brood, 
 Is lefs difturb'd than I. I'll make you know it. 
 Dear Aretbufa, do but take this Sword, 
 And fearch how temperate a Heart I have ; 
 Then you, and this your Boy, may live and reign 
 In Lull, without Controul. Wilt thou, Bellario? 
 I prithee, kill me ; thou art poor, and may'fl 
 Nourifh ambitious Thoughts, when I am dead : 
 This Way were freer. Are.
 
 PHILASTER. 41 
 
 Are. Kill you ! 
 
 Bel. Not for a World. 
 
 Phi. I blame not thee, 
 Bellario ; thou haft done but that which Gods 
 Would have transform'd themfclves to do [ be gone, 
 Leave me without Reply ; this is the laft 
 Of all our Meeting. Kill me with this Sword ! 
 Be wife, or worfe will follow ; we are Two 
 Earth cannot bear at once. Refolve to do, or fufFer. 
 
 Are. If my Fortunes be To good to let me fall 
 Upon thy Hand, I (hall have Peace in Death. 
 Yet tell me this, will there be no Slanders, 
 No Jealoufies in the other World, no 111 there ? 
 
 Phi. No. 
 
 Are. Shew me then the Way. 
 
 Phi. Then guide 
 My feeble Hand, you that have Pow'r to do it ! 
 For I muft perform a Piece of Juftice. If your Youth 
 Have any Way offended Heav'n, letPray'rs 
 Short and effectual reconcile you to it. 
 
 Enter a Country Fellow. 
 
 Coun. I'll fee the King if he be in the Foreft ; I have 
 hunted him thefe two Hours ; if I mould come home 
 and not fee him, my Sifters would laugh at me. 
 There's a Courtier with his Sword drawn, by this 
 Hand, upon a Woman, I think. 
 
 Are. I amprepar'd. 
 
 Phi. Are you at Peace ? 
 
 Are. With Heav'ns and Earth. 
 
 Phi. May they divide thy Soul and Body ! 
 
 Coun. Hold, Daftard ! offer to ftrike a Woman ! 
 
 (preventing him) 
 
 Phi. Leave us, good Friend. 
 
 Are. What ill-bred Man art thou, to intrude thy felf 
 Upon our private Sports, our Recreations ? 
 
 Coun. I underftandyou not \ but I know the Knave 
 wou'd have hurt vou. 
 
 G Phi,
 
 42 PHILASTER. 
 
 Phi. Purfuc thy own Affairs ; it will be ill 
 To multiply Blood upon my Head, which thou wilt 
 force me to. 
 Coun. I know not your Rhetorick ; but I can lay it 
 On, if you offer to touch the Woman. 
 Phi. Slave, take what thou deferv'ft. 
 
 [They fight. 
 Are. Heav'ns guard my Lord ! 
 Bel. Unmanner'd Boor ! — my Lord ! — 
 
 [Interpojing, is wounded. 
 Phi. I hear the Tread of People : 1 am hurt. 
 The Gods take Part againft me, cou'd this Boor 
 Have held me thus elfe ? I muft fhift for Life, 
 Though I do loath it. 
 
 [Exit Phi. and Bel. 
 Coun. I cannot follow the Rogue. 
 
 a 
 
 Enter Pharamond, Dion, Cleremont, Thrafiline, 
 
 and Woodmen. 
 
 Pha. What art thou ? 
 
 Coun. Almoft kill'd I am for a foolifh Woman ; a 
 Knave would have hurt her. 
 
 Pha. The Princefs, Gentlemen ! 
 
 ■Dion. 'Tis above Wonder ! Who flioulddare do this? 
 
 Pha. Speak, Villlain, who would have hurt the 
 Princefs ? 
 
 Coun. Is it the Princefs ? 
 
 Dion. Ay. 
 
 Coun. Then I have feen Something yet. 
 
 Pha. But who would have hurt her ? 
 
 Coun. I told you, a Rogue -, I ne'er fawhim before, I. 
 
 Pha. Madam, who was it ? 
 
 Are. Some dilhoneft Wretch-, 
 Alas ! I know him not, and do forgive him. 
 
 Coun. He's hurt himfelf, and foundly too, he can- 
 not go far j I made my Father's old Fox fly about his 
 Ears. 
 
 Pha.
 
 PHILASTER. 43 
 
 Pha. How will you have me kill him ? 
 
 Are. Not at all, 
 'Tis Tome diitracled Fellow. 
 If you do take him, bring him quick to mc, 
 And I will ftudy for a Punifhment, 
 Great as his Fault. 
 
 Pha. I will. 
 
 Are. But fwear. 
 
 Pha By all my Love, I will : 
 Woodmen, conduit the Princefs to the King, 
 And bear that wounded Fellow unto DrefTing : 
 Come, Gentlemen, we'll follow the Chafe dole. 
 
 [Ex. Are. Pha Dion. Cle. Thra and i Woodman. 
 
 Coun I pray you, Friend, let me fee the King. 
 
 2 Wood. That you mall, and receive Thanks. 
 
 Coun. If I get clear of this, I'll go fee no more gay 
 Sights. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene, another Part of the Wood. 
 
 Enter Bellario, with a Scarf. 
 
 Bel Yes, I am hurt •, and would to Heav'n it were 
 A Death's Wound to me ! I am faint and weak 
 With Lofs of Blood : My Spirits ebb a-pace : 
 A Heavinefs near Death fits on my Brow, 
 And I mull fleep : Bear me, thou gentle Bank, 
 For ever, if thou wilt, you iweet Ones all, 
 Let me unworthy prefs you : I cou'd wifh, 
 I rather were a Corfe flrew'd over with you, 
 Than quick above you. Dulnefs fhuts mine Eyes, 
 And I am giddy. Oh ! that I could take 
 So found a Sleep, that I might never wake. 
 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 Phi. I have done ill •, my Confcience calls me falfe. 
 What ftrike at her, that would not ftrike at me ! 
 When I did fight, methought, I heard her pray 
 The Gods to guard me. She may be abus'd, 
 And I a loathed Villain : If flie be, 
 
 G 2 She'll
 
 44- PH1LASTER. 
 
 She'll not difcover me % the Slave has Wounds, 
 
 And cannot follow, neither knows he me. 
 
 Who's this ? Bellario deeping ! 'If thou beefl 
 
 Guilty, there is no Juftiee that thy Sleep 
 
 Should be fo found \ and mine, whom thou haft wrong'd 
 
 So broken. 
 
 Bel Who is there ? My Lord Philafter ! 
 
 \_A Cry within. 
 Hark ! You are purfu'd, fly, fly my Lord ! and fave 
 Yourfelf. 
 
 Phi. How's this ! would'ft Thou I mould be fafe ? 
 
 Bel Elfe were it vain for me to live •, oh feize, 
 My Lord, this offer'd Means of your Efcape ! 
 The Princefs, I am fure, will ne'er reveal you ; 
 They have no Mark to know you, but your Wounds; 
 I, coming in betwixt the Boor and you, 
 Was wounded too. To flay the Lofs of Blood 
 I did bind on this Scarf, which thus 
 I tear away. Fly ! and 'twill be believed 
 'Twas I afTaiPd the Princefs. 
 
 Phi. O Heavens ! 
 What haft thou done ? Art tbou then true to me ? 
 
 Bel. Or let me perifh loath'd ! Come, my good 
 Lord, 
 Creep in amongft thofe Bufhes : Who does know, 
 But that the Gods may fave your much-lov'd Breath ? 
 
 Phi.. Oh, IfhalldieforGrief! What wilt thou do ? 
 
 Bel. Shift for myielf well : Peace, I hear 'em come ! 
 
 Within. Follow, follow, follow ; that Way they 
 went. 
 
 Bel. With my own Wounds I'll bloody my own 
 Sword ! 
 I need not counterfeit to fall •, Heav'n knows 
 That I can ftand no longer. 
 
 Enter Pharamond, Dion, Cleremont, Thrafiline, &c. 
 
 Pha. To this Place we have track'd him by his 
 Blood. 
 
 Cle.
 
 PHILASTER. 45 
 
 Cle. Yonder, my Lord, creeps one away. 
 
 Dion. Stay, Sir, what are you? 
 
 Bel. A wretched Creature wounded in thefe Woods 
 Bv Beafts ! relieve me, if your Names be Men, 
 Or I (hall perifh i 
 
 Dion. This is he, my Lord, 
 Upon my Soul, afTaiFd her ; 'tis the Boy, 
 That wicked Boy, that ferv'd her. 
 
 Pha. O thou damn'd 
 In thy Creadon ! What Caufe could'ft thou ftiape 
 To hurt the Princefs ? 
 
 Bel. Then I am betray'd. 
 
 Dion. Betray'd ! no, apprehended. 
 
 Bel. I confefs, 
 Urge it no more, that, big with evil Thoughts, 
 I let upon her, and did make my Aim 
 Her Death. For Chanty, let fall at once 
 The Punifliment you mean, and do not load 
 This weary Flefh with Tortures I 
 
 Pha. I will know 
 Who hir'd thee to this Deed. 
 
 Bel. My own Revenge. 
 
 Pha. Revenge, for what ? 
 
 Bel. It pleas'd her to receive 
 Me as her Page, and, when my Fortunes ebb'd, 
 That Men ftrid o'er them carelefs, (he did Ihower 
 Her welcome Graces on me, and did lwell 
 My Fortunes, till they overflow'd their Banks, 
 Threatning the Men that croft 'em; when, as fwifc 
 As Storms arife at Sea, fhe turn'd her Eyes 
 To burning Suns upon me, and did dry 
 The Streams (lie had beltow'd ; leaving me worie, 
 And more contemn'd than other little Brooks, 
 Becaufe I had been great : In fhort, I knew 
 I could not live, and therefore did defire 
 To die reveng'd. 
 
 Pha. If Tortures can be found, 
 
 Long 
 
 5
 
 ifi PH1LASTER." 
 
 Long as thy natural Life, prepare to feel 
 The utmoft Rigour. 
 
 Cle, Help to lead him hence. 
 
 Philafter comes forth. 
 
 Phi. Turn back you Ravifhers of Innocence \ 
 Know ye the Price of that you bear away 
 So rudely ? 
 
 Pha. Who's that ? 
 
 Dion. *Tis the Lord Philafter. 
 
 Phi. 'Tis not the Treafure 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 aflail'd the Princeis. 
 Place me, fome God, upon a Pirams, 
 Higher than Hills of Earth, and lend a Voice 
 Loud as your Thunder to me, that from thence 
 I may difcourfe to all the Under-world 
 The Worth that dwells in him! 
 
 Pha. How's this ? 
 
 Bel. My Lord, fome Man 
 Weary of Life, that would be glad to die. 
 
 Phi. Leave thefe untimely Courtefies, Bellario. . 
 
 Bel. Alas ! he's mad •, come, will you lead me on ? 
 
 Phi. By all the Oaths that Men ought moft to keep, 
 And Gods do punifh moft, when Men do break, 
 He touch'd her not. Take Heed, Bellario, 
 How thou doft drown the Virtues, thou haft fhown, 
 With Perjury. By all that's good, 'twas I : 
 You know, fhe ftood betwixt me and my Right. 
 
 Pha. 1 hy own Tongue be thy Judge. 
 
 Cle. It was Philafter. 
 
 Dion. Is't not a brave Boy ? 
 Well, Sirs, I fear me, we are all deceiv'd. 
 
 Phi. Have I no Friend here ? 
 
 Dion. Yes. 
 
 Phi. Then fhew it-, fome 
 Good Body lend a Hand to draw us nearer. 
 Would you have Tears fhed for you when you die ? 
 Then lay me gently on his Neck, that there 
 
 I may
 
 PHILASTER. 47 
 
 I may weep Floods, [they lead him to Bellario] and 
 
 breathe out my Spirit: 
 'Tis not the Wealth of Plutus, nor the Gold 
 Lock'd in the Heart of Earth can buy away 
 This Arm-full from me. You hard-hearted Men, 
 More ftony than thefe Mountains, can you fee 
 Such clear pure Blood drop, and not cut your Flefh 
 To flop his Life ? To bind whofe bitter Wounds, 
 Queens ought to tear their Hair, and with tlieir Tears 
 Bathe 'em. Forgive me, thou that art the Wealth 
 Of poor Philafier! 
 
 Enter King, Arethnfa, and a Guard. 
 
 King. Is the Villain ta'en ? 
 
 Pha. Sir, here be two confefs the Dttdi ; but fay it was 
 Philafier. 
 
 Phi. Queflion it no more, it was. 
 
 King. The Fellow, that did fight with him, will tell us. 
 
 Are. Ah me ! I know he will. 
 
 King. Did not you know him ? 
 
 Are. No, Sir ; if it was he, he was difguifed. 
 
 Phi. I was fo. Oh my Stars ! that I mould live ftilL 
 
 King. Thou ambitious Fool ! 
 Thou, that haft laid a Train for thy own Life j 
 Now I do mean to do, I'll leave to talk. 
 Bear him to Prifon. 
 
 Are. Sir, they did plot together to take hence 
 This harmlels Life \ mould it pafs unreveng'd, 
 I mould to Earth go weeping : Grant me then 
 (By all the Love a Father bears his Child) 
 The Cuftody of both, and to appoint 
 Their Tortures, and their Death. 
 
 King. 'Tis granted : Take 'em to you, with a Guard. 
 Come, Princely Pharamond, this Bufmefs paft, 
 We may with more Security go on 
 To your intended Match. 
 
 [Exeunt, 
 
 ACT
 
 4« PHILASTER. 
 
 LM. JRJ 
 
 ancs* 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 £«#?, /£? Palace. 
 Enter Philafter, Arethufa, and Bellario. 
 
 Are. "TVTAY, dear Philafter, grieve not! we arc 
 i\ well. 
 
 Bel. Nay, good my Lord, forbear ; we are won- 
 d'rous well. 
 
 Phi. Oh Arethufa ! O Bellario ! leave to be kind : 
 I fhall be fhotfrom Heav'n, as now from Earth, 
 If you continue fo. I am a Man, 
 Falfe to a Pair of the molt trufty ones 
 That ever Earth bore. Can it bear us all ? 
 Forgive, and leave me ! but the King hath fent 
 To call me to my Death : Oh mew it me, 
 And then forget me. And for thee, my Boy, 
 I fhall deliver Words will mollify 
 The Hearts of Beafts, to fpare 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 thrown away : 
 Should I out-live you, I mould then out-live 
 Virtue and Honour •, and, when that Day comes, 
 If ever I fhall cloie thefe Eyes but once, 
 May I live fpotted for my Perjury, 
 And vvafte my Limbs to nothing ! 
 
 Are. And I (the woful'il Maid that ever was, 
 Forc'd with my Hands to bring my Lord to Death) 
 
 Do
 
 PHILASTER. 4f 
 
 t)o by the Honour of a Virgin fwear, 
 To tell no Hours beyond it. 
 , Phi. Make me not hated fo. 
 People will tear me, when they find you true 
 To fuch a Wretch as I •, I mail die loath'd. 
 Enjoy your Kingdoms peaceably, whilft I 
 For ever deep forgotten with my Faults. 
 Ev'ry jult Servant, ev'ry Maid in Love, 
 Will have a Piece of me, if you be true. 
 
 Are. My dear Lord, fay not fo. 
 
 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 elfe my Heart will break with Shame and Sorrow* 
 
 Are. Why, 'tis well. 
 
 Bel. Lament no more. 
 
 Phi. What would you have done 
 If you had wrong'd me bafely, and had found 
 My Life no Price, compar'd to your's ? For Love, 
 
 Sirs, 
 Deal with me plainly. 
 
 Bel. 'Twas miftaken, Sir. 
 
 Phi. Why, if It were ? 
 
 Bel. Then, Sir, we would have afk'd you 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, fo. 
 
 Bel. 'Tis as it mould be now. 
 
 Phi. Lead to my Death. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene, the Prefence Chamber. 
 Enter King, Dion, Cleremont, and Thrafiline. 
 
 King. Gentlemen, who faw the Prince ? 
 
 H Cle.
 
 ■ fi PHILASTEHi 
 
 Cle. So pleafe you, Sir, he's gone to fee the City, 
 And the new Platform, with feme Gentlemen 
 Attending on him. 
 
 King. Is the Princefs ready 
 To bring her Prifor.er out ? 
 
 Thra. She waits your Grace. 
 
 King. Tell her we flay. 
 
 Enter a Mefifenger* 
 
 Mef Where's the King ? 
 
 King. Here. 
 
 Mef To your Strength, O King, 
 And refcue the Prince Pharamond from Danger * 
 He's taken Prifoner by the Citizens, 
 Fearing the Lord Philajler. 
 
 Enter another MefTenger. 
 
 Mef Arm, arm, O King, the City is in Mutiny,. 
 Led by an old grey Ruffian, who comes on 
 In Refcue of the Lord Philajler. [Exit. 
 
 King. Away to th* Citadel ; I'll fee them fafe, 
 And then cope with thefe Burghers: Let the Guard 
 And all the Gentlemen give ftrong Attendance. 
 
 [Exit King. 
 Manent Dion, Cleremont, Thrafilinq. 
 
 Cle. The City up '..This was above our Wiflies. 
 
 Dion. Well, my dear Countrymen, if you continue, 
 and fall not back upon the firft broken Shin, I'll have 
 you chronicled, and chronicled, and cut and chro- 
 nicled, and fung in all-to-be-prais'd Sonnets, and grav'd 
 in new brave Ballads, that all Tongues- {hall trouleyou 
 in Specula S<tcuIorum, my kind Can-carriers. 
 
 Thra. What if a Toy take 'em i'th'Heels now, and 
 they all run away, and cry, the Devil take the Hind- 
 m f >fi ? 
 
 Dion.. Then the fame Devil take the Foremoft-too, 
 
 and
 
 P H I L A S T E R. .51 
 
 and fowce him for his Breakfaft ! If they all prote 
 Cowards, my Curfes fly among them and be fpeeding! 
 May they have Murrains reign to keep the Gentle- 
 men at home, unbound in ealy Freeze ! May the 
 Moths branch their Velvets ! May their falfe Lights 
 undo 'em, and difcover Prefixes, Holes, Stains, and 
 Oldnefs in their Stuffs, and make them Shop rid! 
 May they keep Whores and Horfes, and break j 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 Gib- 
 berifli they prattle to their Parcels, unlefs it be the 
 Gothick Latin they write in their Bonds, and may they 
 write that falfe, and lofe their Debts ! 
 
 Enter the King. 
 
 King. Tis Philajler, 
 None but Philafter, muft allay this Heat : 
 They will not hear me fpeak ; but call me Tyrant. 
 My Daughter and Bellario too declare, 
 Were he to die, that they would both die with him. 
 Oh run, dear Friend, and bring the Lord Philqfter •, 
 Speak him fair ; call him Prince •, do him all 
 The Courtefy you can ; commend me to him. 
 I have already given Orders for his Liberty. 
 
 Cle. My Lord, he's here. 
 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 King. O worthy Sir, forgive me ; do not make 
 Your Miferies and my Faults meet together, 
 To bring a greater Danger. Be yourfelf, 
 Still found amongir. Difeafes. I have wrong'd you, 
 And though I find it laft, and beaten to it, 
 Let firft your Goodnels know it. Calm the People, 
 And be what you were born to : Take your Love, 
 And with her my Repentance, and my Wifhes, 
 And all my Pray'rs : By th' Gods, my Heart Ipeaks this r 
 
 H 2 Anil
 
 b % PH1LASTER. 
 
 And if the leaft fall from me not perform'd, 
 May I be ftruck with Thunder ! 
 
 Phi. Mighty Sir, 
 I will not do your Greatnefs fo much Wrong, 
 As not to make your Word Truth ; free the Princefs 
 And the poor Boy, and let me fland the Shock 
 Of this mad Sea-breach, which I'll either turn 
 Or perifh with it. 
 
 King. Let your own Word free them. 
 
 Phi. Then thus I take my Leave, killing your Hand, 
 And hanging on your Royal Word : Be kingly, 
 And be not mov'd, Sir ; I fhall bring you Peace, 
 Or never bring myfelf back. 
 
 King. All the Gods go with thee ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene \ a Street in the City. 
 Enter an old Captain and Citizens with Pharamond. 
 
 Cap. Come, my brave Myrmidons, let us fall on, 
 Let our Caps fwarm, my Boys, 
 And your nimble Tongues forget your Mothers 
 Gibberifh, of what do you lack, and fet your Mo'uths 
 Up, Children, till your Pallats fall frighted half a 
 Fathom, paft the Cure of Bay-falt and grols Pepper, 
 And then cry Philajler , brave Philajler. 
 
 All. Philajler I Philajler! 
 
 Cap. How do you like this, my Lord Prince ? 
 
 Pha. You will not fee me murder'd, wicked Villains ? 
 
 £nter Philafter. 
 
 AU. Long live Philafier ■, the brave Prince Philajler] 
 Phi. X thank you, Gentlemen ■> but why are thefe 
 Rude Weapons brought abroad, to teach your Hands 
 Uncivil Trades ? t f0 't • K f ^W 
 
 Cap. My Royal Rcjjclear, ^' *'*"'* 1^ 
 We are thy Myrmidons, thy Guard, thy Roarers j 
 And when thy noble Body is in Durance, 
 
 Thus
 
 PHILASTER. 53 
 
 Thus do we clap our mufty Murripns on, 
 And trace the Streets in Terror : Is it Peace, 
 Thou Mars of Men : Is the King fociable, 
 And bids thee live ? Art thou above thy Foemen, 
 And free as Phcebus ? Speak ; if not, this Stand 
 Of Royal Blood mail be abroach, a-tilt, and rur* 
 Even to the Lees of Honour. 
 
 Phi. Hold and be fatisfied; I am myfelf, 
 Free as my Thoughts are ; by the Gods, I am. . 
 
 Cap. Art thou the dainty Darling of the King ? 
 Art thou the Uylas to our Hercules ? 
 Is the Court navigable, and the Prefence ftuck 
 With Flags of Friendihip ? If not, we are thy Caftle, 
 And this Man fleeps. 
 
 Phi. I am what I defire to be, your Friend •> 
 I am what I was born to be, your Prince. 
 
 Pha Sir, There is fome Humanity in you ; 
 You have a noble Soul •, forget my Name, 
 And know my Mifery •, fet me fafe aboard 
 From thefe wild Canibals, and, as I live, 
 I'll quit rfiis Land for ever : 
 
 Phi. I do pity you : Friends, difcharge your Fears ; 
 Deliver me the Prince. 
 
 Good, my Friends, go to your Houfes, and by me have 
 Your Pardons, and my Love •, 
 And know, there mall be nothing in my Pow'r 
 You may deferve, but you fhall have your Wifhes. 
 
 Ml. Long may'ft thou live, brave Prince ! 
 Brave Prince ! brave Prince ! 
 
 Exeunt Phi. and Pha. 
 
 Cap. Go thy Ways •, thou art the King of Courtefy : 
 Fall off again my fweet Youths •, come, and every Man 
 trace to his Houfe again, and hang his Pewter up ; 
 then to the Tavern, and bring your Wives in Muffs : 
 We will have Mufick, and the red Grape fhall make 
 us dance, and rife, Boys. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter
 
 54 P H I L A S T E R. 
 
 Scene changes to the Court. 
 
 Enter King, Arethufa, Galatea, Megra, Cleremont, 
 Dion, Thrafiline, Bellario, and Attendants, 
 
 King. Is it appeas'd ? 
 
 Dion. Sir, all is quiet as the Dead of Night, 
 As peaceable as Sleep : My Lord Philafier 
 Brings on the Prince himfelf. 
 
 King. Kind Gentleman ! 
 I will not break the lead Word I have giv'n 
 In Promife to him. I have heap'd a "World 
 Of Grief upon his Head, which yet, I hope, 
 To warn away. 
 
 Enter Philafier and Pharamond. 
 
 Cle. My Lord is come. 
 
 King. My Son ! 
 Bled be the Time, that I have Leave to call 
 5uch Virtue mine ! Now thou art in mine Arms, 
 Methinks I have a Salve unto my Bread 
 For ail the Stings that dwell there : Streams of Grief 
 That I have wrong'd thee, and as much of Joy 
 That I repent it, iflue from mine Eyes : 
 Let them appeafe thee •, take thy Right •, take her, 
 She is thy Right too, and forget to urge 
 Jvly vexed Soul with that I did before. 
 
 Phi. Sir, it is blotted from my Memory, 
 Pad and forgotten : For you, Prince of Spain, 
 Whom I have thus redeem'd, you have full Leave 
 To make an honourable Voyage home. 
 And if you would go furnifh'd to your Realm 
 With fair Provifion, I do fee a Lady, 
 Methinks, would gladly bear you Company. 
 
 Meg. Shall I then alone 
 Be made the Mark of Obloquy and Scorn ? 
 Can Shame remain perpetually in me, 
 
 And
 
 PHILASTER. 
 
 57 
 And not in others ? or have Princes Salves 
 
 To cure ill Names, that meaner People want ? 
 
 Phi. What mean you ? 
 
 Meg. You muft get another Ship 
 To bear the Princefs and the Boy together. 
 
 Dion. How now ! 
 
 Meg. I have already publifh'd both their Shames. 
 Ship us all four, my Lord-, we can endure 
 Weather and Wind alike. 
 
 King. Clear thou thyfelf, or know not me for Father.. 
 
 Are. This Earth, how falfe it is ! What Means is left 
 For me to clear myfelf ? It lies in your Belief. 
 My Lords, believe me, and let all Things elfe 
 Struggle together to difhonour me. 
 
 Bel. O flop your Ears, great King, that T may fpeak 
 As Freedom would : Then I will call this Lady 
 As bale as be her Actions. Hear me, Sir; 
 Believe your heated Blood when it rebels 
 Againft your Reafon, fooner than this Lady. 
 
 PH. This Lady? I will fooner truft the Wind 
 With Feathers, or the troubled Sea with Pearl, 
 Than her with any thing : Believe her not! 
 Why, think you, if I did believe her Words, 
 I would outlive 'em ? Honour cannot take 
 Revenge on you ; then what were to be known 
 But Death ? 
 
 King. Forget her, Sir, fince all is knit 
 Between us : But I muft requeft of you 
 One Flavour, and will fadly be denied. 
 
 Phi. Command, whate'er it be. 
 
 Kirw. Swear to be true 
 
 o 
 
 To what you promife. 
 
 Phi. By the Pow'rs above, 
 Let it not be the Death of her or hirn, 
 And it is granted. 
 
 O 
 
 King. Bear away the Boy 
 To Torture. I will have her clear'd or buried. 
 Phi. O, let me call my Words back, worthy Sir ; 
 3 Afk
 
 PHILASTER, 
 
 * . lbmething elfe : Bury my Life and Right 
 
 , one poor Grave •, but do not take away 
 ivly Life artd Fame at once. 
 
 King. Away with him, it (lands irrevocable. 
 
 Bel. O kill me, Gentlemen ! 
 
 Dion. No, help, Sirs. 
 
 Bel. "Will you torture me ? 
 
 King. Hafte there \ why flay you ? 
 
 Bel. Then I filall not break my Vow, 
 You know, juft Gods, though I difcover all. 
 
 King. How's that ? Will he confefs ? 
 
 Dion. Sir, fo he fays. 
 
 King. Speak then. 
 
 Bel. Great King, if you command 
 This Lord to talk with me alone, my Tongue* 
 Urg'd by my Heart, mail utter all the Thoughts 
 My Youth hath known, and ftranger Things than thefe 
 You hear not often. 
 
 King. Walk afide with him. 
 
 [Dion and Bel. walk ajide together* 
 
 Dion. Why fpeakMt thou not ? 
 
 Bel. Know you this Face, my Lord ? 
 
 Dion. No. 
 
 Bel. Have you not feen it, nor the like ? 
 
 Dion. Yes, I have feen the like, but readily 
 I know not where. 
 
 Bel. I have been often told 
 In Court of one Euphrafia, a Lady, 
 And Daughter to you ; betwixt whom and me, 
 They, that would flatter my bad Face, would fwear 
 There was fuch flrange Relemblance, that we two 
 Could not be known afunder, dreft alike. 
 
 Dion. By Heav'n, and fo there is. 
 
 Bel. For her fair Sake, 
 Who now doth fpend the Spring-time of her Life 
 In holy Pilgrimage, move to the King, 
 That I may Ycape this Torture. 
 
 Dion. But thou fpeak'il 
 As like F.uphrafia, as thou do'ft look. How
 
 PHILASTER. 57 
 
 How came it to thy Knowledge that fhe lives 
 In Pilgrimage ? 
 
 Bel. I know it not, my Lord. 
 But I have heard it, and do fcarce believe it. 
 
 Dion. Oh, my Shame, is it poflible ? Draw near, 
 That I may gaze upon thee : Art thou fhe ? 
 Or elfe her Murderer ? Where wert thou born ? 
 
 Bel. In Siracufa. 
 
 Dion. What's thy Name ? 
 
 Bel. Euphrafia. 
 
 Qion. 'Tis juft; 'tis (he-, now I do know thee j Oh 
 That thou hadftdied, and I had never feen 
 Thee nor my Shame. 
 
 Bel. 'Would I had died, indeed! I wifh it too ; 
 And fo I muft. have done by Vow, e'er publifh'd 
 What I have told -, but that there was no Means 
 To hide it longer ; yet I joy in this, 
 The Princefs is all clear. 
 
 King. What have you done? 
 
 Dion. All is difcover'd. 
 
 Are. What is difcover'd ? 
 
 Dion. Why, my Shame ; 
 It is a Woman ; let her fpeak the reft. 
 
 Phi. How ! that again. 
 
 Dion. It is a Woman. 
 
 Phi. Bleft be you Pow'rs that favour Innocence \ 
 It is a Woman, Sir ; hark, Gentlemen ! 
 It is a Woman. Arethufa, take 
 My Soul into thy Breaft, that would be gone 
 With Joy : It is a Woman— thou art fair, 
 And virtuous flill to Ages, 'fpight of Malice. 
 
 King. Speak you ; where lies his Shame ? 
 
 Bel. I am his Daughter. 
 
 Phi. The Gods are juft. 
 But, Bellario, 
 
 (For I muft call thee flill fo) tell me, why 
 Thou didit conceal thy Sex-, it was a Fault •, 
 A Fault, BellariOy though thy other Deeds 
 
 I Of
 
 58 PHILASTER. 
 
 Of Truth outweigh'd k : All thefe Jealoufies 
 Had flown to nothing, if thou hadit difcover'd, 
 What now we know. - 
 
 Bel. My Father ott would fpeak 
 Your Worth and Virtue, and as I did grow 
 More and more apprehenfive, I did thirft 
 To fee the Man fo prais'd ; but yet all this 
 Was but a Maiden-longing, to be loft: 
 As foon as found ; till fitting in my Window, 
 Printing my Thoughts in Lawn, I faw a God 
 I thought (but it was you) enter our Gates; 
 My felood flew out, and back again as fall, 
 As I had pufF'd it forth and fuck'd it in 
 Like Breath •, then was I call'd away in hafle 
 To entertain you. , Never was a Man, 
 Heav'd from a Sheep-cote to a Scepter, rais'd 
 So high in Thoughts as I ; you left a Kifs 
 Upon thefe 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 fearch'd 
 What ftir'd it fo : Alas ! I found it Love ; 
 Yet far from 111, for could I have but liv'd 
 In Prefence of yon, I had had my End ; 
 For this I did delude my noble Father 
 With a feign'd Pilgrimage, and drefs'd myfelf 
 In Habit of a Boy ; and, for I knew 
 My Birth no Match for you, I was part Hope 
 Of having you : And understanding well 
 That when I made Difcovery of my Sex, 
 I could not flay with you ; I made a Vow, 
 By all the mod religious Things a Maid 
 Could call together, never to be known, 
 Whilft there was Hope to hide me from Mens Eyes* 
 For other than I feem'd, that I might ever 
 Abide with you; then fat I by the Fount, 
 Where firft you took me up. 
 King. Search out a Match 
 
 Within
 
 PHILASTER. S9 
 
 Within our Kingdom, where and when thou wilt, 
 And I will pay thy Dowry j and thyfelf 
 Wilt well deferve him. 
 
 Bel. Never, Sir, will I 
 Marry ; it is a Thing within my Vow. 
 
 Phi. I grieve, fuch Virtues mould be laid in Earth* 
 Without an Heir. Hear me, my Royal Father, 
 Wrong not the Freedom of our Souls fo much, 
 To think to take Revenge of that bafe Woman ; 
 Her Malice cannot hurt us ; fet her free 
 As fhe was born, laving from Shame and Sin. 
 
 King. Well ! Be it fo. You, Pharamond, 
 Shall have free PafTage, and a Conduct home 
 Worthy fo great a Prince •, when you come there, 
 Remember, 'twas your Faults that loft you her, 
 And not my purpos'd Will. 
 
 Pha. I do confefs it. 
 
 King. Laft,join your Hands in one. Enjoy, Pbilajler^ 
 This Kingdom, which is yours, and after me 
 Whatever I call mine ; my Blefllng on you ! 
 All happy Hours be at your Marriage- Joys, 
 That you may grow yourfelves over all Lands, 
 And live to fee your plenteous Branches fpring 
 
 Where-ever there is Sun! Let Princes learn 
 
 By this to rule the Paflions of their Blood, 
 
 For, What Heav'n wills, can never be withftood. 
 
 THE END.
 
 
 0511
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES 
 THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below 
 
 UMJRL AUG 2 ^ 196 
 £ MAY 18 
 
 RECfc.lVfcu o:) 
 
 
 f»p» M, 
 
 5 
 
 UIRC, DFPT. M 
 
 RtCO 
 
 met* 
 
 UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA 
 
 AT 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 MURARY
 
 158 01014 2585 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 " "ii mil mi in inn i 
 
 AA 000 143813 4
 
 Univi 
 So 
 L