University of Virginia Library

SCÆN. IV.

INOPHILUS.
Ino.
What is become of this young Prince? Or where
Doth he bestow himself? Doth he walk invisible?
Where have I been to look him?
The Horses are in the Stables,
His Page and I at home too, that us'd to be as inseperable Companions.

Enter Nicetus, Aramnes.
Ram.
Well met Gentlemen, where is the Hermit Plangus?

Nic.
We cannot tell, nor have we been to seek him.
If at the Court, we should hear presently; if not,
We might be too officious in his search,
And our enquiry might make his absence but so much the more
Notorious; and I'me confident he's well:
His virtue guards him still from all Mischances.

Ino.
Though his company's the dearest thing I love,
Yet for his good I could digest his absence,
But that I doubt a mighty mischief might spring
From this small Grain of indiscretion
The King is old, and there are Knaves about the Court
That (if he knew it not) would tell him so:
And men conscious to themselves of a defiancy,
Are still most jealous of a growing worth.
Perhaps a thinking Father (for plodding is old age's sickness)
May take notice of his Son's retirement, and misconstrue it so:
Nothing is impossible—
Heaven send it otherwise.

Ara.

This care becomes you Sir; but I dare swear 'tis needless:
The King is but an ill dissembler; and had he but the least
thought of such a thing, hee'd hide it less then the Sun conceals
his brightness: Besides, a man as great Euphorbus is, whose rule
of living hath been directed by the Line of Virtue, cannot mistrust
that Vice in his own Son, of which himself was never

guilty: Had's younger years been tainted with inordinate desires,
or had his Crown been the effect of some audacious crime,
perhaps his guilty Conscience might have mistrusted; but 'tis impossible
where there is no guilt, to fear a punishment.

Ino.
You speak my hopes:
But this for certain, Gentlemen,
The King who was admired for his matchless sleeping,
Whose night no noise disturb'd, and it was difficult
To wake before his hour, sleeps but unquietly of late,
Will start at Mid-night, and cry Plangus:
Is greedy after News, and walks unevenly,
And sometimes on the sudden looks behind him; and when
One speaks to him, scarcely marks one syllable.
Surely the mind of some distemper shakes
His soul into this looseness.

Enter Messenger.
Mess.
My Lord, the Prince desires
To meet you half an hour hence i'th' Gallery.

Ino.
Me?

Mess.
Yes my Lord.

Ino.
I shall. Your Servant, Captains.

All.
Yours, my Lord.

[Exeunt at several Doors.]