 | The Platonick Lovers |  |
Act. 5.
Scen. 1.
Enter Theander, Fredeline.Theand.
My gladnesse doth ore come me Fredeline,
Some kind celestiall power hath phisick'd me
With Immateriall baulme, the sickenesse of
My bloud is gone, my hot and eager thoughts
Grow temp'rat now, my vaines are coole within,
As silver pipes replenish'd from a spring.
Fred.
It seemes the Philophers Doce hath done
Working, 'tis well he is already married?
Theand.
O I am light, more nimble then a Dove,
Or empty Eagles in their mornings slight;
Me thinkes this sinfull vestment of my flesh
Showes cleane and new upon my soule, now I
As I may tell my Mother when I wake.
Fred.
'Tis strange the operation should decay
So soone; some few howres hence my subtile Fume
Will governe in mine Eies: and there I hope
Continue longer then his Lust hath done with him.
Theand.
I'm thinking Fredeline how Eurithea will
Rejoyce, when she shall finde what mastery
Her holy friends above have wrought in my behalfe.
Fred.
'Tis now neere birth of day, and as I told
You sir, to finde her pensive in her bed,
To draw her curtaines, and reveale your selfe
Quite alter'd and recover'd in your minde,
Will by the sudden wonder much augment
Her joy.
Thean.
It must be full of pleasure, show the way.
Fred.
That's her Chamber sir, but through a backe doore
(Vnlesse her carefull woman hinder us
By a strong bolt) I can convey you to her without noyse;
Make me your guide, and move to your right hand.
Theand.
I shall be welcom'd and admir'd, as I
Had made my visit from a Region so
Remote, that my returne would be no more
Believ'd, then from the grave—
Fred.
Here I injoyn'd my Captaine and his sister stand conceal'd.
If he should proove too cowardly for such
A guilt, I were undone—Sure that's his voice.
Enter Castraganio (in a night gown unready) & Amadine.
Castr.
They both are come, speake lowder Amadine,
He cannot heare us else.
Thean.
Hah! who are these?
Fred.
They come from Euritheas Chamber, sir,
Lets retire to the Arras, and listen to their talke—
Amad.
Brother take heede how you discourse
And boast of your accesse, Theander would
Goe neere to kill us both, if he but knew
Of this nights revelling.
Castra.
Dost thinke I weare my tongue so slipp'ry in
My mouth, these are not pleasures fit to be
Reveald: away, w'have said enough?—
Ex. Castra. & Amad.
Fred.
They have observ'd the language I prescrib'd,
To the strictnesse of a sillable.
Sure he did urge my name: and spoke as it
Concern'd my Iustice to destroy em both.
Who are they, thou knowst em Fredeline?
Fred.
My indeer'd friend: can you be guilty of
Such close night exercise?
Theand.
Who is thy friend? death on thy courteous feares?
Why dost conceale't so long? What is he call'd?
Fred.
Were he my brother, and thus iniur'd you,
My secrecie should never make him safe.
'Tis Castraganeo and his sister Amadine,
She that attends upon your wife.
Theand.
My wife: that title's new, and will grow horrid now!
Her Chamber was their Sphere of revelling:
They came from thence.
Fred.
Can you thinke so, my Lord?
Theand.
Why dost thou strive to lessen my beliefe,
With wearing such disguises on thine owne?
Thou saw'st they came from thence.
Fred.
Sir, if they did, that can inferre no cause,
To make your reason so disquieted;
Are there not many of these Tiffany
Young kerchiefe people that will have their lovers in
Their Ladies Chamber whilst shee sleepes?
Theand.
Her Lover Fredeline! thou wouldst beguile
My Iealousie with hopes impossible:
It is her brother, thinke on that.
Fred.
Can Incest seeme so strange to your conceit?
The sooner sir, for by that meanes th'are sure
T'increase th'alliance, of those children which
They get, and make them more a kinne unto themselues;
But if the gentle Eurithea you
Suspect (as be it farre from my dull thoughts
To raise a sawcy feare) let me kill him—
Theand.
Goe, follow straite: bring me his heart, that I
May see it pant and bleed within my hand.
Kill him, his sister too. Yet stay, stay Fredeline:
'Tis not the custome of my soule, to be
Reveng'd by Deputie, or fix my anger where
There is not equall strength and valour to incounter it.
Fred.
But sir, if he should live
To prattle in his Wine, and boast what he hath done?
Goe then, take care thou see him strait Imbarqu'd,
And let some cunning Pilote steere him to
A coast so wild and distant from this Clime,
That's language never may be understood:
Not to secure my fame, but in a piteous tendernesse
To Euritheas Sex. False Eurithea!
When I had purg'd my memory of all
My raw unwholesome thoughts, couldst thou defile't
Agen with acting what I but unwillingly desir'd?
Fred.
'Tis worth my poore vexation too,
When I consider how the scornefull, that
Malign'd the pure cælestiall sect of
Lovers, which you mutually conspir'd
To raise, will smile when they shall heare of this,
And say, 'twas but an old Platonick trick.
Theand.
Leave me, and see him suddenly imbarqu'd.
Fred.
Sir, your command shall be obey'd; but I
Beseech you not proceed to danger, on
These weake unlucky doubts.
Theand.
This was the cause she did disswade me from
Her bed, that she might make another roome,
Most virgin-like pretending 'twas a crime to aske
A husbands priviledge: prethee leave me.
Fred.
I dare not yet my noble injur'd Prince.
Exeunt.
Enter Castraganio, and Amadine.
Cast.
I'm glad the danger's past: It had beene hard
To teach me venture it, but that the Provostship
Was a most powerfull baite.
Ama.
And then to make the rich yong Gridonel my husband too,
For all his plotts are sure.
Cast.
But that which perfected
My confidence, was thy assurance of
The Ladye's easie inclination to
Forgive; for as thou told'st me, if the worst
Succeed, and we should be constrain'd to tell
The truth, she'le pitty young beginners, that
Are forc'd to hazard a little honesty
To make em rich, and is able to
Procure Theanders pardon as her owne.
Amad.
You may presume it and rejoyce, for I
Have felt her breast; 'tis soft and tender as a Pellicans.—
Fred.
My noble Captaine, and my precious friend,
I will not name what lasting gratitude,
Your cares and courage have oblieg'd me to:
Men that are hearty and sincere come late
With promises, and earely with their deedes.
Cast.
I hope sir, though our dialogue were short,
We utter'd your meaning in your owne words.
Amad.
My voice was valiant too, and lowd enough.
Fred.
All was exacter then my hopes desir'd:
And now (just dealing sir doth strengthen love)
There is the Patent for your Provostship.
Pray put it in your pocket safe, make choice
Of all my Horses, straite to hasten you
Vnto your government.
Amad.
And shal my husband follow us?
Fred.
Iust now, he's drawing on his bootes, hee'le ride
Halfe naked with his leggs, for out of hast,
He hath forgot to put his stockings on.
Amad.
Were he quite nak'd, he should be welcome, sir.
Fred.
Friend, I implore I may by ev'ry Post
Have letters of thy businesse, and thy health;
And pretty Amadine when you have children,
(As heaven no doubt, will send you store) pray keepe
Them warme, and let em eate no fruit, nor fish;
You goe unto a cold raw clime, and I
Desire all your posteritie might thrive.
Amad.
It is the kindest gentleman.
Fred.
Wee'le meete i'th stable straite, there have
A parting teare or two, and so farewell.
Mischiefe on my fraile memory. I had
Forgot a written Scedule here, to which
drawes out a paper Pen and Inke.
I must intreat your hands—
Cast.
How! what is it sir?
Fred.
Onely a short certificate, that justifies
You lay with Eurithea sir, and Amadine
Must needs subscribe, as witnesse that she saw you in her bed.
Cast.
You shall excuse me.
Fred.
Can you deny me this?
Amad.
What w'have already done can raise but his
Suspitions, this will make him mad.
Fred.
Speake, will you write?
Our other crime if it be found may be
Forgiven, but once consent to this, hee'le grow
Too wise sir, to be mercifull.
Fred.
Well, I must seeke for friendship among beasts,
There is no melting courtesie, no honesty
In men. Determine straite, will ye subscribe?
Castr.
You have our answer, Signior, pray receive't.
Fred.
Deare friend I take my leave. Sweet Amadine
Farewell. I'm sorry we must part, as blind
Men doe, never to see each other more.
Castr.
Believe not so vnkindly of our destinies.
Fred.
Never, I feare: for I suspecting youl'd deny
This small request, was faine to hire
Two shaggy ill-look'd Gentlemen, a brace
Of massie hilted rogues, who waite below
To cut your throats.
Cast.
Y'are not in earnest sir.
Fred.
Deare friend, when did you find I was in jeast.
However if you'le fixe your names in writing here,
You may goe on with safety to your government;
Shall they come up?
Amad.
No, no sir, if they be rogues,
And have such shaggy lookes: Brother, I finde
He's mischievous.
Cast.
Give me the paper sir—
He writes, and gives it Amadine.
Fred.
Gentle Mistresse, your name too—
So, now ye are kind, let me embrace you both.
And pray looke on the Pattent sir, I gave
You to assure the Provostship.—
Castra takes it out and opens it.
Castr.
Hah! here wants the Dukes hand.
Fred.
Right: to what purpose pray should it be there,
When th'office is not falne.
Castr.
I'm gull'd, led by the nosthrill like an Asse.
Amad.
Nor shall I have no husband, Signior?
Fred.
Introth I have beene busied much of late,
And never spoke unto the Gentleman;
Besides, I thought y'had beene inclin'd to the Platonicke way.
Amad.
I would my nayles were long enough, villaine,
I'ld flev thee into raggs.
Fred.
Alas, I smile at Injuries.
Castr.
Peace, doe not anger him: come sister wee'le
Vnto my Garrison. I've a Commission for
A Company, I hope you'le speake unto
The Duke I may injoy't. I'm sure his hand is to't.
But yet you'le find a willing small
Mistake too in that grant; the Captaine is
Not dead that had the place.
Castr.
Would I had spirit but to beate my selfe.
Fred.
You are a Florentine; one of the subtle Tribe,
That thinke your neighbours have no braines, but what
They meete serv'd in with sage and vinegar,
To a calfes head: I pray believe you found
A dull Sicilian once, that could out-wit a Tuscan Gentleman.
Castr.
Y'are master of your pleasure sir; whither shall we go?
Fred.
You must to Sea.
Amad.
To sea, Ile drown here first.
Or aske pardon, and confesse all.
Fred.
Not one word more on forfeiture of life.
Castr.
My wonder makes me dumbe, I need no threats.
Fred.
You shall to the Bermudoes friend, and there
Plant Cotton whilst your Sister learnes to spinne:
It is the Dukes command, and till I can
Provide a Ship, I must inclose you in
A garret safe, where you may weepe and meditate.
No howling now, nor crying lowd, for feare
My ill-fac'd blades below ore heare't, and strait
To quallifie your voyces cut your throats;
Nor doe not grumble curses out, I hold
Them much unwholsome in a morning ere I breake my fast.—
Ex.
Enter Phylomont, Buonateste, Ariola.
Phyl.
I'm weary of this cold Platonick life:
D'you thinke that Ile sit sighing thus (Ariola)
Vnder a Poplar tree, or whining by
A River side, like a poore Fisherman
That had lost his Net? Either consent to marry,
Or I will strait take horse, ride to my Province
And seeke some downe right virgin out, that knowes
Natures plaine lawes, though not the Art of love.
Ariol.
Can you complaine I am unkinde, or the
Sweet freedome which I give, is not so much
As eithers vertue might allow?
Phyl.
It is enough! Men that are satisfy'd
With winde and ayre, may keepe Camelions company:
I'm of an other diet; I, my learned
New acquaintance here, laughes to conceive
Would have thought of a Platonick lover.
Buon.
He would have beaten's braines out with his Clubb.
Phyl.
Will you consent to marry, speake?
Ariol.
If I am powerfull with thee Phylomont,
Let me but woe thee to the Woods agen,
And try how my perswasions can subdue
Thy minde, unto our former temp'rat love.
Phyl.
No I thanke heaven; I'le sooner goe thither
To rob poore Squirrels of their nuts, my sage,
And learned Author, shall I humble you
So much as to goe bid my followers
Prepare for my departure hence.
Buon.
Stay a little sir, the Lady may relent.
Phylo.
My hopes grow cold. I'le instantly away.
Ariol.
Stay Phylomont: I doe command thee stay,
By the religion of thy sacred vowes.
Phylo.
One houre I will; upon condition too,
You walke aside with my Philosopher,
And listen reverently to his advice.
Ariol.
My reason's fortify'd, let him come in,
Phylo.
A way, use all the force of your capacitie.
Buon.
Plato shall lose one fond disciple sir,
Or I'le goe burne my bookes, and sindge my beard
Off in the flame.—
Exeunt.
Enter Theander, and Eurithea, at severall doores.
Theand.
In this course Pilgrimes weed, I shall injoy
That quietnesse, which though great Princes have
The power oft to preserve in others, yet
Can ne're command unto themselves.
Eurith.
Alas, my Lord, what have I done,
That you should leave me to suspect
My Innocence? Why, will you thus become
A holy wanderer to seeke that happinesse
In other Lands, which here you scornefully
Forsake? What have I done?
Theand.
Is thy offence
Growne up to be thy glory now, dost love
To heare it told? or art thou sooth'd with silly hope
It is conceald, the Starres are witnesses;
They all grew weary of the night, and wish'd
Vnwillingly they saw?
Eurith.
Ease my amazement quickly, or I dye.
Theand.
Thou Eurithea, and the world are growne
Too false and subtile, for the easie dull
Sincerenesse of my heart, I will retyre
To Desarts and to Rocks, there feed the winds
With my continuall sighes: untill I raise
A storme shall nightly shake this Pallace towres,
And give thy flattr'ing conscience cause to feare,
Though I am gone still my revenge dwells here.
Exit.
Eurith.
O I would follow, but my griefes are growne
So burdensome, they bow me to the ground.
She fals.
How various are the changes of our fate,
Now must I lose him, when he's safe restor'd
To all his chaste and noble thoughts: which way
Could I consent to an offence? I am
By some conspiracie betray'd.
Enter Fredeline.
Fred.
This fellow and his sister must be sent
To Sea with speed, for feare some watchfull accident
Discover all, Eurithea! the most
Illustrious Princesse of this Isle: looke up
Faire Virgin-wife; alas, why doe you weepe?
Eurith.
I am forsaken, lost! Theander is
Vnkind, o'recome with jealousie and scorne.
Fred.
Madame, I thinke, I partly know the cause,
Believ't, there are more villaines in the world,
Then will appeare so in the face, though it
Be wash'd, and shav'd, then view'd with open lights.
Eurith.
But sir, know you what thus disturbs my Lord?
Fred.
Your Woman's false: her brother such a knave
As were he sent to hell, the Fiends would crowd
Together in a nooke, t'avoid his company.
Eurith.
She and her brother false to me!
Fred.
Rise up, I doe beseech your Excellence;
And having wip'd away those liquid pearles
From of your beuteous eyes, read this and wonder.—
She rises & takes a paper from him.
Eurith.
O dismall! horrid treachery—
Fred.
There you perceive, he doth affirme, he did
To witnesse what he certifies.
Eurith.
Though they are cruell, I forgive them both.
Fred.
That's heavenly said: yet marke their impudence,
This note they sent to me, t'intreat me give
It to the Duke, but when I doe,
Let the quotidian gowt cease on my hands,
Vntill my fingers grow more knotty then a Maple roote.
Eurith.
Sir, I believe you'le strive
Rather to lessen his suspition, than
By new contrivements give it growth.
Fred.
D'you thinke I am of humane race? this roome
Is much too publicke for your miseries.
I pray retyre within, and wee'le consult,
How to dispell all these inchanted clowdes.
Eurith.
You are become the treasure of my hope,
And will obliege me when my fortune smiles
Agen, unto a gratitude, that shall
Be great, and suffer no decay.
Fred.
Already she is very kind, I hope
My fume begins to worke, I'le gaze upon
Her still untill mine eyes melt into hers.
Exeunt.
Enter Iaspero, Gridonell, Arnoldo.
Iasp.
Your Father sent us to release you sir,
You have the house at liberty agen,
He sayes, he may trust you with women now,
For there is such a blemish found in one
Of the fairest of the sex, as he presumes,
Will teach all men to fly their company.
Grid.
Indeed my danger towards women's past.
For whether't be with fasting out
My supper twice, or walking gently in
My shirt, whilst the Moone shin'd, I cannot tell,
But I am strangely alter'd, growne so cold
Within, as I had layne a whole night perdu
O'top o'th Alpes
Arnol.
But you were very hot before?
Grido.
O Arnoldo, thou maist be glad thy sister
Was dead, I had so maul'd her else.
Iasp.
'Twas happy mine was at sucke too.
Grido.
Th'art in the right; for had she beene but old
And nibble Gingerbread, sh'ad serv'd my turne.
Arnold.
'Twas a miraculous feaver you was in.
Grido.
Well, shall I tell you gentlemen, believ't,
I had eaten some strange odd meat, the pickled kidney of
A Goate, or the rumpe of a devill broyld.
But have you heard of a faire Lady that had got a blemish?
Iasp.
Our brave new Dutchesse sir, sh'ath troubled all
The house, and in her very bridall night
They say, playd the Adultresse.
Grid.
How, gentlemen?
Pray heare me speake; I've judgement in these things.
I will be hang'd, if sh'ath not dipp'd her finger
In a French pie, some kickshaw made of severall
Strange bits. Iust such as I encountred with,
And there devour'd the kidney of a Goate.
Come let's goe seeke my Father out.
Exeunt.
Enter Phylomont, Sciolto, and Buonateste.
Phyl.
Though I esteeme Theander at a rate,
As if I vallew'd all his victories,
And all the civill honours he hath wonne,
By conqu'ring the misterious sense of bookes:
And adde to this our loves, begotten in
Our Infancy, our noble friendship of
A better growth, Yet Eurithea is
My Sister, and the chiefest of my blood,
One whose virtue and perfection I'm so well
Experienc'd in, that neither can admit
My least suspition or my feare, th'are both
Abus'd, but if my friend will grow too credulous,
Ile learne to use him as my Enemy.
Sciolt.
For my part sir, I want instructions, what
I should believe, and words to utter halfe
The dismall wonders I have heard: But sure
He doth proceed on grounds so relative,
As would perswade the wisest to a Iealousie.
Yet on my soule shee's cleare.
Phylo.
Then there is treachery, let it be found;
If he permit my Sisters honour bleed,
Without full arguments to warrant his
Suspect, ere yet the circuit of one Moone
The people of this Province cause to curse
Their Princes negligence.
Buon.
Your Grace hath found I've beene a little prosperous
Of late in your affaire, trust me with this:
Be pleas'd to tarry here a while conceal'd,
You both shall finde I will untie these Magick knots,
And strait restore the Innocent to such
A light, as shall have force to make their virtue shine.
Sciol.
My man o'Medicines, if thou performe this
Although old Æsculape had but a Cock
Allow'd him for a cure, thou every meale,
Shalt have a brace of fat cram'd Capons at
Thy board, each of em larger than a Dragon?
Enter Theander like a Pilgrime.
Theand.
I seeke thee Phylimont, and like a friend
Whose kindnesse growes upon him neere his death:
I come to give thee Legacies, the Armes I woone
At Capua are thine, and those Sardinian horse
I chose for our last warre; my glories are
Ecclips'd, and I will goe where there's no neede
Of pollicie nor strength, unto some darke
And emptie wildernesse, where Fame can put
Her Trumpet to no use, where all my danger is
Leanenesse, and cold, but I shall live secure,
From Ladies that are faire and false.
Phyl.
Were I so cruell to beleeve the cause
Of thy calamity a truth, I would
Inuest me too in such a homely weed,
And wander with thee where the Sunne,
In's vniversall journey should not find
Vs out? but thou art govern'd by mistakes,
Some treacherous practise hath subdu'd thy sense;
For both our safeties thinke my sister such,
As I pronouce of thine, I must not find her in thy doubts.
Theand.
O Phylomont! I have
Not blood enough to use in blushes, should I name her crime.
Phylo.
Thy passions I forgive agen! but marke
How much they are mis-led, this learned Gentleman,
Will free disguised truth out of that Labyrinth,
An instant remedy to all our griefes.
Buon.
But you must promise patience sir, and when
I give the signe, retire to'th the Arras all silent and conceal'd.
Theand.
Such blessings as you promise seldome come
From heaven, I'm sure no humane helpe can doe't.
Enter Fredeline creeping in, as he were sicke.
Buon.
Away, listen and hide your selues, there stands
The Conjurer that I must first outcharme.
Fred.
How am I Planet-struck, how suddenly
Depriv'd of strength, I breath faintly, and short;
Like wearied Coursers when the race is done:
My sinewes shrinke, and beare me crooked when
I move, as I had beene their load a hundred yeares.
Palsies and Agues have possess'd my joints,
I quiver like a naked Russian in
The snow; and my dimme eyes begin to glare,
And winke like to a long neglected I ampe
Whose oyle is wasted to a dropp.
Buon.
The generous Fredeline? how doe you sir.
Fred.
Villaine, Th'ast poyson'd me, the minerals which
Thou gavest me in thy fume were full of death?
Buon.
I must confesse they were not very wholesome—
Fredeline offers to draw.
Nay, be not angry sir, you draw a sword?
You draw a knitting needle or a rush,
Las poore weake gentleman? but if you could,
Here at my old friend Archymedes ward
I'ld stand.—We Mathematick Mounsiers have
Our lines revers'd, and our stoccato's too.
Fred.
This scorne will bring a worse disease into
My gaule, than whats already in my blood.
Buon.
You have beene bred in Cities, Courts, and Campes,
And weighed the hearts and braines of men in your
Owne scales, would foole the wisest Conclave too,
Though they went fasting to consult; so wise,
You'ld make the Devill oversee at Cards,
And then perswade him's hornes hung in his light.
You had your plots, but wee dull bookemen have
Our counterplots.
Fred.
Sir, 'ti confess'd too late.
Buon.
It was not in the power of Art to make
It sir, but this will serve your turne as well,
'Twill end your lust and give it ease at once.
Fred.
Have pitty on my languishment and paines.
Buon.
Y'are now within the armes of death; but I've
A cordiall that may proove restorative,
If you will justly answer what I aske.
Fred.
All sir, and not disguise an article.
Buon.
How did you raise this jealousie in the
Offended Duke? I've heard he found two at
His Ladies Chamber doore, where they discours'd
Such language as inferr'd Eurithea false.
Fred.
Sir, they were planted there by me, and what
They said was counterfeit, such as I then
Appointed them to speake?
Theand.
O damn'd infernall slave!
Phylo.
I held him for a sober Saint.
Sciol.
Containe your selfe my Lord: you shall heare more.
Buon.
Where have you hid those pious Instruments?
Fred.
'Twas Castraganio, and his Sister Amadine;
Th'are lock'd i'th Garret neere the Turret leads?
Theand.
Give way to my revenge, that I may kill
Him with my foot, spurne out his monstrous soule—
Phylo.
Theander hold, Your anger was not wont to stoope so low?
Theand.
Your counsel's timely sir,
I give you thankes; Sciolto beare him from
My sight: let him and's cursed Instruments be safely kept.
Sciol.
Doe you grinne now? a pox o'your milde lookes.
You tooke a precious care o'th Dukes posteritie?
Fred.
I'm an unfornate Platonicke Gentleman.
Buon.
Keepe him for justice Sir, the Physicke which
He tooke will quickly cease its violence.
Exeunt Sciolto. Fred.
Enter Ariola, Eurithea.
Ariol.
Where is Theander, that hath vex'd the best
And gentlest Lady in the world to such
Astonishment, that shee is drown'd in teares?
Theand.
Kind Eurithea pardon me, thy fate
Decreed, that thou who hast so long preserv'd
My life, shouldst by thy mercie now have privilege
To give it too
Eurith.
Restore me to your love (my Lord) and then
And not seeme worthy of your thankes.
Theand.
Things are reveal'd, thou'lt heare of horrid Miracles:
But sure, henceforth I shall not dare to trust
My heart within mine owne inconstant brest;
It must be lodg'd in thine.
Eurith.
I shall be tender how I give it cause
Of a remove, 'lesse mine goe with it too.
Phylo.
Ariola, my Philosopher sayes
His Lectures pierc'd quite through your tender eares.
Ariol.
Well sir, y'had best to take mee whilst
My new Religion is i'th fit; hee has
A mighty reason, and a fluent tongue.
Enter Sciolto and Gridonell.
Phyl.
To th'Chappell then, my businesse will lye there.
Sciolt.
The villaine is imprison'd sir, and his
Confederates acknowlegde all that hee
Reveal'd, for an unhappy truth.
Theand.
My Eurithea must become their Judge,
And my Provinciall Lawes shall sleepe a while.
Eurith.
That will but hearten others to doe wrong,
For mine will be an easie doome.
Sciolt.
Pray sir, bee knowne to my Phylosopher.
Theand.
I must embrace him for my friend.
Sciolt.
Well, he hath done strange feats: you tooke a powder,
And my Son too, there was no harme intended.
You shall heare all within, perhaps find cause
To swaddle my old Hide.
Grid.
By this hand sir, were you not my Father I would begin;
I thought y'had powder'd mee, 'tis well the heat
Is past. Lord, how I dream't of Taffatie
Kirtles, French Gownes, and fine Italian tires,
That hung (mee thought) by my Bed side.
Sciolt.
Son, Ile requite thee with a wife; my friend
Hath so behav'd himselfe for th'credit of
The Arts, that Ile be at charge of a Primmer,
And a Fescue till thou learne to reade.
Phylo.
Theander, my advice is good, when you
Possesse your Ladies Bed your selfe, y'are the
Best sentinell to hinder th'onslaught of
For Evenuches and for old revolted Nunnes.
Theand.
I shall incline in time.
Phyl.
And when I'm married sir, I strait command
Yea heare this briske Phylosopher one houre
Vpon that Theame.
Buon.
Wise Nature is my Mistrisse sir, I shall
Demeane my selfe most stoutly in her cause.
Theand.
Then surely I must yield: Come Phylomont.
Your Nuptiall Rites perform'd, let's all enjoy
The treasure of his knowledge and his tongue.
Yet wee (my Eurithea) have a while
So rul'd each other with nice feares, that none
Hereafter will in civill kindnesse doubt
There are Platonick Lovers, though but few,
The Sect conceal'd, and still imagin'd new.
Exeunt omnes.
FINIS.
| The Platonick Lovers | |