University of Virginia Library

Scena. 4.

Phallax. Promos.
Pro.
Well mette Phallax, I long haue wysht to showe,
A cause to thee which none but I yet know.

Phal.
Say on my Lord, a happy man weare I:
If any way, your wish I could supply:

Pro.
Faine would I speake, but oh, a chylling feare,
(The case is such) makes mee from speech forbeare.

Phal.
These wordes my Lord (whome euer haue bene iust)
Now makes, me thinke, that you my truth mistrust.
But cease suspect, my wyll with yours shall gree,
What so (or against whome) your dealing be:

Pro.
Against a wight of small account it is,
And yet I feare, I shall my purpose mys:

Phal.
Feare not my Lorde, the olde Prouerbe doth saye,
Faynt harts doth steale fayre Ladyes feld away.

Pro.
Fayre Ladyes O, no Lady is my loue,
And yet she sure, as coye as they wyl proue.

Phal.
I thought as much, loue dyd torment you so.
But what is she that dare saye Promos noe?

Pro.
Doe what one can, fyre wyll breake forth I see,
My words vnwares, hath showen what greeueth mee:
My wound is such, as loue must be my leache,
Which cure wyll bryng, my Grauity in speeche,
For what maye be, a folly of more note,
Then for to see, a man gray heard to dote.

Phal.
No my Lorde, Amor omnia vincit,
And Ouid sayth, Forma numen habet.
And for to proue, loues seruice seemes the wise,
Set Sallamon and Sampson, before your eyes:
For wyt, and strength, who wonne the cheefest prise.
And both lyu'd by the lawes loue did deuise,
Which proues in loue, a certaine godhed lyes.
And Goddes rule yearely, by wisdome from the skyes:
Whose wyls (thinke I) are wrought best by the wise.
In deede diuine, I thinke loues working is,
From reasons vse, in that my sences swarue,
In pleasure paine, in payne I fynde a blysse,
On woe I feede, in sight of foode I stearue:
These strange effects, by loue are lodgd in mee,
My thoughts are bound, yet I my selfe am free.

Phal.
Well my Good Lord, I axe (with pardon sought)
Who she may be, that hath your thrauldome wrought?

Pro.
The example is such, as I sygh to showe,
Syster she is, to dampned Andrugio.

Phal.
All the better for you the game doth goe.
The prouerbe sayth, that kyt wyll vnto kinde,
If it be true this comfort, then I fynde:
Cassandras flesh is as her brothers, frayle,
Then wyll shee stoupe, (in cheefe) when Lords assayle.

Pro.
The contrary (through feare) doth worke my payne,
For in her face, such modesty doth raigne,
As cuttes of louing sutes, with chaste disdayne.

Phal.
What loue wyll not, necessity shall gayne,
Her brothers lyfe, will make her glad and fayne.

Pro.
What is it best, Andrugio free to set,
Ere I am sure, his systers loue to gette?

Phal.
My louyng Lord, your seruaunt meanes not so,
But if you will, else where in secret goe:
To worke your wyll, a shift I hope to showe.

Pro.
With ryght good wyll, for such my sicknes is,
As I shall dye, if her good will I mys.

Exeunt.