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Actus Primus.

Enter Basilius, Philonax and Calander.
Philon.
Sir yet be gracious and heare them pray
That beg not for their owne, but for your safety
And honor of your state which eclipse
In your long darke and melancholly life,
We want you at the helme.
Our duties bind us tell you tis unnaturall
To bury your selfe alive, the people call
For their owne King to governe, the 'ile forget
To pray for you if you continue thus
A stranger to em

Cal.
Or if not for them
Which every good king makes his care as being
A steward to provide them all earthly blessings,


Yet for the other part of you, our Mistris
That sleepes within your boosome, and not made
For such a conversation, returne
And warme your thoughts agen, about which all
Your servants like so many pictures gaze
At one another, but want motion, and take up
Roome i'th Chambers of your Court, like Arras

Philon.
Have a compassion to our daughters sir
Kill not your hopes in their restraint

Cal.
What cage
Can please the birds Created for skie freedome?

Philon.
How can you see your eldest child Pamela
Spend her best part of time with such a rude
And ignorant hinde as the unbred Dametas?
A Lady of a high and active soule.

Bas.
No more

Philon.
Our duties bids us tell you this.

Bas.
Hast thou forgotten
Philonax, or made a better glosse upon the Oracle?
Should we remaine in Court and let our daughters
Be in the sight of the admiring world
Reade that paper, and be not partiall Philonax
Philonax reads
Thy eldest Care shall from thy carefull face
By princely meane be stolne and yet not lost
The younger shall with naturës blisse embrace
An uncoch love, which nature hateth most
Both these themselves unto two such shall wed
That at a Beere, as at a barre shall plead
Why ile thee a living man they have made dead,
In thine owne seate a forraigne state shall sit
And ere that all these blowes thy head shall hit
Thou with thy wife adultery shall commit.

Bas.
Canst blame me now? I should reioyce to see
My daughters happy mothers, but since their
Fate must be ripened with my blood, their pride
Rooted in my grave, and that untimely, tis


Wisdome to keepe 'em virgins, Ime resolu'd

Enter Gynæcia, Philoclea and Pyrocles.
Cal.
Your queene and Ladies

Bas.
Vanish all discontent, Madam this place
Is emptie of all royall entertainement
Your worth may Challenge, but since fate allowes not
A Courtly life which best may answer your
High birth spirit, let your vertue guide you
To accept of what we tender,

Pyr.
This my Lord
Exceeds all merrit heere, it was the blisse
I aimd at to be acquainted with your goodnesse
I am your humble servant

Bas.
Such a title
Would rather become me, call me so Lady
And stile me above Kings, while I write yours

Philon.
If your grace
Could call him from this life you'd melt the hearts
Of your subjects into prayers for you

Gyne.
I thanke your care but hees inexorable

Cal.
Alas deere princesse can you brooke these groves
Has not a pallace something more of pleasure?

Phi.
This shall be so to mee while tis my fathers,

Cal.
I ha not seene a goodlier person, how
Came she admitted? she is gracious with the king

Phi.
She has a charme to win from all the world

Philon.
I have read the Amazons discrib'd so

Pyr.
Good my Lord.

Bas.
These lippes had he that robd the dragon of
The golden Apples, but once seene he would
Ha wish'd to ha gatherd fruit heere, and esteemd
The gaine of one sweet kisse reward sufficient
For all his twelve hard labors

Pyr.
Sir your grace
Is pleasantly dispos'd to make my person
The subject of your mirth

Bas.
And had those Creatures,
Booke blinded men, that dreame of other worlds


Tell of Elizian blessings, know the joyes
Are in your love they would have lost themselves
As I have done in speculation

Pyr.
You make me blush to heare you

Bas.
Theres no action
Dares so affright your blood, to talke, why Lady
There be those men and women great and good
Have found no shame in telling of their loves
Nay in the acting

Pyr.
Give me leave to tell you
You are not modest if I understand you
A King give breath to such foule thoughts,
Your every action should be a starr
To guide your subjects, if you loose your piety
What wickednesse have they not licence for
If the devotion of your service be
To such a friend as Lust (as what name else
Can it deserve) let those whose hearts are lost
In sinne be tempted to dishonor, I
Abhor the thought, pardon me royall sir
I hope these are but trialls, if I thought
There had been such a levity in men
Thus to provoke you

Bas.
Smooth thy brow agen
Or I shall neede no other punishment
Theres death too much in that; Philoclea

Pyr.
That name sounds all my comfort, and I must
Dispaire to tell her so, I was to blame
To be so peremptorie, would I were agen;
To shape my answer

Bas.
Noble Lady.

Pyr.
Sir

Bas.
That smile has put me out, oh looke thus ever
I was studying a new complement to begg
Thy excuse

Pyr.
If you brought no offence there needes none sir
I must suppose your love, love is noble chaste

Bas.
You will finde that hereafter, oh Zelmane


Would thou couldst tell the meaning of my sighes

Pyr.
You can expresse them.

Bas.
Not I

Pyr.
Choose another to speake them for you
And yet I want an orator to tell you
What I would say, how ere I seeme

Bas.
Dost blesse me

Pyr.
Theres something wants a tongue, but for your passions
I should not thinke they would carry so much discord
To any virgin care delivered by a woman
There is away to meete a gentle audience.
At least not harsh disdaine, did your faire daughter
Philoclea the volume of all sweetnes
Pleade halfe your suit, altho it borderd on
Something not altogether just, her tongue
Might perchance guide it, but I am confident
Your ends are noble

Bas.
Theres a lightening yet
Of comfort, happiest Lady I will study.
How to be worthy of this grace,

Gyne.
You are expected at the pastoralls

Philon.
We take our leaves my Lord, againe beseeching
Your pardon for our bouldnesse to reduce you
To your owne spheare of greatnes

Bas.
Doe you continue
Faithfull to your employments, and deserve of us
And of your Country; come Zelmane
There are some sports which you must grace

Pyr.
I waite a servant to your commands

Gy.
Come sweete Zelmane

Pyr.
Come sweetest of thy sex

Phi.
Tis pittie nature.
Made thee not a man, this complement
Would then become you

Exeunt.
Enter Pamela and Mopsa.
Pam.
Mopsa you are to coy in my opinion
Tho I confesse your beauty may deserve
As much as any; Dorus tho he be


Your fathers servant, hee's a hansome shepheard
And not to be dispised.

Mop.

Dispised, cannot a virgin love a young man I pray but she
must dispise him.


Pam.

You should then with some smiles encourage him.


Mop.

Smoyles, let me alone to smoile, and something else
when we are alone; if I thought he did not love me, I know
what I know


Pam.

Alas poore man he cannot sleepe for you he saies,


Mop.

Nay and I were a bed with him he should not sleepe
so long as his eyes were open, I'de watch him for that, but doe
you thinke my father would let us couple in matrimony as they
say, he has never a sonne but I and I am his onely daughter.


Pam.

Make no scruple of that, if you can finde in your heart to
love him, in the name of Cupid goe together, for ought I perceive
your father houlds a good opinion of him, marry I know not how
your mother is inclinde


Enter Musidorus.
Mop.
Whoope my mothers a scould

Pam.
Heres your sweete heart.
Looke you make much of him, poore Gentleman
How love is able to transport, who could
Expect so rich a guest in that poore dwelling
Oh how ere the windes compell him, or the streame
Into whose troubled waves he has launch'd forth
This way he steeres his love, yet I seeme ignorant.

Mus.
My deerest Mopsa

Mop.
Deere; I never cost you any thing

Mus.
I know not
At what expence of fortunes were I able
I should be willing to make purchase of you
But I'me sure you have already cost my heart
And yet I find yours made of Marble
Which neither pitty nor my prayers can soften,
Sweete Madam pleade for me, one gracious word
From you would make me happie, let one beame
Shoot from your eye, and it will strike a spring
Into that frozen peece of earth, and make it
A bower for love to sport in, 'tis in you


To unarme her noble heart, there's too much steele
And gentle love in vaine attempts to fasten
The softer blowes.

Pam.
Mopsa take heed, your Shepheard can speake well
And if he be honest Menalcus brother
And heire, I know no reason why you should
Thinke scorne of him.

Mop.

But for all his queint speeches Ile keepe my honestie
close enough I warrant you


Mus.
Why should you be so cruell, nature made
Your face the onely object of mans wonder

Mop.
Does my face looke like a flapiack?

Mus.
Is't possible there can be a soule so hard
So vnrelenting dwell in that faire body?
If you knew the truth of my affection and with what
Religion it lookes upon your vertues.
'Twould teach your eye compassion, gracious princesse
Let the distressed Dorus gaine this mercy
From you that with the blessednes of your
White hand reaching to Mopsa this poore toy
Which late I found my love may cherish hope
At last to be accepted

Mop.
Oh fine what's that Madam?

Pam.
You must yet be a little coy to receive it

Mop.
I wonot have it, and he would give it me

Pam.
A rich Iewell the figure of a Crabfish

Mus.
The trew emblem of my loves pace which lookes another way
To that it moves, she cannot but distinguish
Whether I would direct my heart, her eyes
Are fixt upon't, and my poore soule could heere
Star-gaze for ever

Pam.
By force not choyce—all his desire is Mopsa
To win your grace by my presenting it

Mop.
Ile take it for your sake, I wonot thanke him

Mus.
She has no apprehension, with what
A calme and carelesse temper does she give it

Enter Dametas
Dame.
Madam Pamela, oh are you there, tis well

Pam.
Whats the matter?



Dame.
Ime out of breath, let me walke my selfe a little

Pam.
What haste does tire you?

Dam.
Tire me, I am no woman, keepe your tires to your selfe
Nor am I Pericles prince of Tyre.

Pam.
I doe beleeve it, heaven make you an honest subject,
For a wise one, I dispaire to see you.

Dam.

Am I the subject of your talke? But I give you leave to
use your tongue, y'are a woman, Dorus what make you ideling
heere? is the field dung'd as I gave Directions, and the Calfe with
the white face brought home to execution?


Mus.

I was carefull in my dutie.


Pam.

Beleeve me governor there is much hope of your servant,


Dam.

I, governour becomes you, I like it well when you carry
an M vnder your girdle, our govern, he will do pritty well in
time, when I have taught him the manners of the Cart, he begins
whistle in tune already, and can curry favour with the horses, but
now I remember my selfe I forgot what I came hither for,
oh dee heare tis the king your fathers pleasure and mine, that you
make haste to the lodge.


Pam.

Ile attend


Dam.

There will be gambolls to please my Lady Salamandor.


Pam.

Zelmane you would say.


Dam.

I care not what you say, but if you meane to heare the
Dances and see the fine songs you must make haste; Dorus you
shall have leave to shake your heeles, looke you be mannerly, and
shew a cleane calf, Mopsa whats that you ha got there?


Mop.

A fine thing our man Dorus game, he saies tis a fish


Dam.

Tis a Codds head ist not, much came how you by this


Mus.

Following the plow I found it.


Dam.

Would all my acres were sowne with such, vmh dores he
throw his stones at thee already, well set forward, if thou diest
before me Dorus Ile make some body mine heire; if I out
live thee, I wonot say what legacie I meane to bestow upon
thee, Continue thy dutie Dorus and follow me with a reverence.


Exeunt
Enter Basilius, Gynecia, Pyrocles, Pamela, Philoclea, Mopsa, Musidorus, a Shepheards.
Bas.
Ladies our revells wants the state and glory


With which the Court delights might charme your senses
Our sceane is naturall but interpret fairely 'twas meant
A cure for times sicke feathers, and your mirth.

Gy.
Virtue will prompt you to
Accept what was intended for your service
Yet 'tis within my wishes to salute you
With other testimony of your welcome.

Pyr.
I kisse your white hand,

Gy.
Every touch conveies a firce spirit through my blood
I shall betray my suffering, and through my eyes
Let out my heart, Philoclea sit

Phi.
Wilt please you rest your selfe?

Pyr.
Dwell heere for ever
I am now but one degree from heaven,

Phi.
Since you imagine you are so neere it is no sin
I hope to entreate you staie with us a little, I would
Wish tho to make you blest with too hastie a remove,

Pyr.
You are all goodnes, oh that I durst but give
Some liberty to my imprisoned thoughts

Gy.
Philoclea you hinder the faire stranger.

Pyr.
Pardon me that am her trouble rather

Bas.
She should want vertue to call you so, but they begin
Dametas is the steward for this dayes mirth I see.
Enter Dametas
And meanes to bring in the first course.

Dam.
Cupid is blind some say but there are lyes
Abroad, for Cupid never wanted eyes
He is a Deity with bow and arrow
And he can pirce with it the very marrow
And never hurt the bones, ist not a wonder.
That flaming Ice should cut mans heart in sunder,
Enter Cupid Shepheard Musedo. Mopsa and Miso.
Behold the Dandiprat at that liv'd at Court.
But is come hether to make country sport
A wooddy god: but yet a very Coult
Among the maids who feele his furious boult.
Now Cupid speake thy selfe or while they play
Sing if you please I ha'not more to say.



Cupid.
Tell me tydings of my mother.
Shepheards, and be Cupids brother
Downe from heaven we came together
With swanns speede came she not hither?
But what Lady have I spyde.
Just so was my mother eyde
Such her smiles wherein I dwelt
In those lips have I been felt
Those the pillowes of her brest
Which gave Cupid so much rest
'Tis she 'tis she make holyday
Shepheards Carroll Dance and play
'Tis Venus it can be no other
Cupid now has found his mother

Gy.
This was your poetrie, Zelmane
You are beholding to him, he would make
You another I see,

Bas.
Gynecia

Gy.
I am silent—Philoclea is too neere
I am not well 'oth sudden, breake off your mirth

Bas.
What ayles Gynecia?

Gy.
My heart is sicke

Pyr.
Forbid it heaven

Bas.
Retire, come my Zelmane

Pyr.
I attend

Bas.
Looke to your charge Dametas

Exeunt.
Pam.
I have a pretious time; will you pace it governor?

Dam.
Trot, amble or gallop Ile runne in your hand Lady.

Exit.
Mop.
Come Dorus

Mus.
Your humble servant

Exeunt.
Pyr.
Thou art cruell.
To an innocent bosome love, there is no way
Within thy power to save me, oh Philoclea
Where shall I coole my heart, oh if there be
One shaft can kill, good Cupid ayme at me.

Exit.