University of Virginia Library

Act II.

Scene I.

Enter Philander, Endymion.
Phil.
And thou shalt find her honourable, Boy,
Full of Regard unto thy tender Youth,
For thy own Modesty, and for my Sake,
Apter to give than thou wilt be to ask.

End.
Sir, you did take me up when I was nothing;
And only yet am something by being yours;
You trusted me unknown; and that which you
Were apt to construe Innocence in me,
Might have been Craft; the Cunning of a Boy
Harden'd in Lies and Theft; yet ventur'd you
To part my Miseries and me; for which,
I never can expect to serve a Lady
That bears more Honour in her Breast than you.

Phil.
But, Boy, it will prefer thee, thou art young,
And bear'st a childish overflowing Love
To them that speak thee fair; when thy Age
And Judgment once shall end those Passions,
Thou wilt remember best these careful Friends
That plac'd thee in the noblest Way of Life;
She is a Princess I prefer thee to.

End.
In that small Time that I have seen the World,
I never knew a Man hasty to part
With Servants he thought trusty: I remember
My Father would prefer the Boys he kept
To greater Men than he; but did it not
Till they were grown too saucy for himself.

Phil.
Why, gentle Boy, I find no Fault at all
In thy Behaviour.

End.
Sir, if I have made
A Fault of Ignorance, instruct my Youth,
I shall 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 past all Hope
For once; what Master holds so strict a Hand
Over his Boy, that he will part with him
Without one Warning? Let me be corrected
To break my Stubborness, if it be so,
Rather than turn me off, and I shall mend.

Phil.
Thy Love doth plead so prettily to stay.
That, trust me, I could weep to part with thee.
Alas! I do not turn thee off; thou know'st
It is my Business that doth call thee hence,
And when thou art with her, thou dwell'st with me:
Think so, and 'tis so: and when Time is full,
And thou hast well discharg'd this heavy Trust.
Laid on so 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 did'st attend the Princess.

End.
I am gone;
But since I am to part with you, my Lord,
And none knows whether I shall live to do
More Service for you, take this little Pray'r;
Heav'n bless your Loves, your Fights, all your Designs;
May sick Men, if they have your Wish be well;
And Heav'n hate those you curse, tho' I be one.

[Exit.
Phil.
The Love of Boys unto their Lords is strange,
I have read Wonders of it; yet this Boy,
For my Sake (if a Man may judge by Looks
And Speech) would outdo their Story: I may see
A Day to pay him for his Loyalty.

[Exit.
Enter Araminta and a Lady.
Ara.
Where is the Boy?

Lady.
I think within, Madam.

Ara.
But are his Cloaths made yet?

Lady.
He has 'em on.

Ara.
'Tis a pretty sad talking Boy this, is
He not? I would fain know his Name.

Lady.
Endymion, Madam.

Enter Melesinda.
Ara.
Oh, you are welcome: What good News?

Mel.
As good as any one can tell your Highness,
That says she has done that you would have wish'd.

Ara.
Hast thou discover'd?

Mel.
Yes, I have strain'd a Point
Of Modesty for you.

Ara.
I prithee how?

Mel.
In list'ning after Baudry. I perceive
Let a Lady live never so modestly,
She will be sure to meet one Time or other
With Opportunities of hearing that.
Your Prince, brave Thrasomond, has been so amorous,
And in so excellent a Stile!

Ara.
With whom?

Mel.
Why with the Lady that I did suspect.
I am inform'd both of the Time and Place.

Ara.
O when! and where!

Mel.
To Night: Her Chamber.

Ara.
Run
Thy self into the Presence; mingle there
With other Ladies, leave the rest to me.
If Destiny (to whom we dare not say
Why thou did'st this) have not decreed it so,
In lasting Leaves, (whose smallest Characters
Were never alter'd) then this Match shall break.
Where is the Boy?

Lady.
Here, Madam.

Enter Endymion.
Ara.
You are sad,
I see, to change your Service, is't not so?

End.
Madam, I have not chang'd; I wait on you
To do him Service.

Ara.
Thou disclaim'st me then?
Philander told me thou canst sing and play.

End.
If Grief will give me leave, Madam, I can.

Ara.
Alas, what kind of Grief can thy Years know?
Was't a curst Master that thou hadst at School?
Thou art not capable of other Grief.
Thy Brows and Cheeks are smooth as Waters be,
When no Breath troubles them; believe me, Boy,
Care seeks out wrinkled Brows and hollow Eyes,
And builds himself Caves to abide in them.
Come, Sir, pray, tell me truly, does your Lord
Love me?

End.
I know not, Madam, what Love is.

Ara.
Canst thou know Grief, and never yet knew'st Love?
Thou art deceiv'd, Boy; does he speak of me
As if he wish'd me well?

End.
If it be Love
To lose the Memory of all things else,
To forget all Respect of his own Friends,
In thinking of your Face; if it be Love
To sit cross-arm'd, and sigh away the Day,
Mingled with Starts, crying your Name as loud
And hastily as Men i'th' Streets do Fire:
If it be Love to weep himself away,
When he but hears of any Lady dead
Or kill'd, because it might have been your Chance;
If when he goes to rest, (which will not be)
'Twixt ev'ry Prayer he says, to name you once,
As others drop a Bead, be any Sign
Of Love, then, Madam, I dare swear he loves you.

Ara.
O y' are a cunning Boy, and taught to lie
For your Lord's Service: But thou know'st a Lie
That bears this Sound is welcomer to me,
Than any Truth, that says he loves me not.
Lead the Way, Boy; do you attend me too;
'Tis thy Lord's Business hastes me thus away.

[Exeunt.
Enter Cleon, Agremont, Adelard, Alga, Melesinda.
Cleon.
Come, Ladies, shall we talk a Round? As Men
Do walk a Mile Women should talk an Hour,
After Supper 'tis their Exercise.

Mel.
'Tis late.

Alga.
'Tis all
My Eyes will do to lead me to my Bed.

[Exeunt.
Enter King, Araminta, and a Guard.
King.
You Gods, I see, that who unrighteously
Holds Wealth or State from others, shall be curst
In that which meaner Men are blest withal:
Ages to come shall know no Male of him
Left to inherit, and his Name shall be
Blotted from Earth; if he have any Child,
It shall be crossly match'd: The Gods themselves
Shall sow Division 'twixt her Lord and her.
Yet, if it be your Wills, forgive the Faults
Which I have done; let not your Vengeance fall
Upon this understanding Child of mine:
She has not broke your Laws; but how can I
Look to be heard of Gods, who must be just,
Praying upon the Ground I hold by Wrong?

Enter Cleon.
Cleon.

Sir, I have ask'd her Women, but they, I
think, are Bauds: I told them I must speak with her;
they laugh'd, and said their Mistress lay speechless:
I said my Business was important; they said their
Lady was about it: I grew hot, and cry'd my Business
was a Matter that concern'd Life and Death;
they answer'd, so was that which their Mistress was
a doing. Answers more direct I could not get: In
short, Sir, I conceive she is very well employ'd.

King.
'Tis then no time to dally: You o'th' Guard,
Wait at the Back-door of Alga's Lodgings,
And see that none pass thence upon your Lives,
But bring them to me whosoe'er they be:
Knock, Gentlemen, knock louder, louder yet:
What has their Pleasure ta'en away their Hearing?

Maid.
Who's there that knocks so at the dead of Night?

Cleon.
Some Friends that are come here to pay you a Visit.

Enter the Guard, bringing in Thrasomond, in Drawers, muffiled up in a Cloak.
Guard.
Sir, in obedience to your Commands,
We stopt this Fellow stealing out of Doors.

[They pull off his Cloak,
Agr.
Who's this, the Prince?

Cleon.
Yes; he's incognito.

King.
Sir, I must chide you for this Looseness:
You've wrong'd a worthy Lady; but no more.

Thras.
Sir I came hither but to take the Air.

Cleon.
A witty Rogue, I warrant him.

Agr.
I, he's a Devil at his Answers.

King.
Conduct him to his Lodgings.
Come, Sirs, break open the Doors.

Maid.
You shall not enter here.

Agr.
We must, and will.

Alga.
Nay, let 'em enter; I am up, and ready;
I know the Business they come hither for,
'Tis the poor breaking of a Lady's Honour
They hunt so after; let 'em have their Wills.
My Lord, the King, this is not noble in you,
To publish thus the Weakness of a Woman.

King.
Come down.

Alga.
I dare, my Lord, for all your Whispers;
This your base Carriage shall not startle me:
But I have Vengeance still in Store for some,
That shall, in Spight of this your great Design,
Be Joy and Nourishment to all the Nation.

King.
Will you come down?

Alga.
I will to laugh at you.
I'll vex you to the Heart, if my Skill fail not.

Cleon.

'Tis strange that a Lady cannot ride a Heat or
two to breath her self, but she must be ruin'd for't.
If this Geer holds, that Lodgings be search'd thus,
Pray Heav'n we may lye with our own Wives quietly.

Enter Alga.
King.
Good Madam Alga, where's your Honour now?
No Man can fit your Pallat but the Prince:
Thou most ill-shrouded Rottenness, thou Piece
Made by a Painter and Apothecary,
Had'st thou none to allure unto thy Lust,
But he that must be wedded to my Daughter?
By all the Gods, all these, and all the Pages
Shall whoot you thro' the Court; what do you laugh?

Alga.
Faith, Sir, your Majesty must pardon me,
I cannot chuse but laugh to see you merry.
If you do this, O King, or dare to think on't,
By all those Gods you swore by, and as many
More of my own, I will have Fellows with me,
Such Fellows as shall make you noble Mirth:
The Princess, your dear Daughter, shall stand by me,
She shall be whooted at as well as I.
Urge me no farther, Sir, I know her Haunts,
Her Layes and Leaps, and will discover all;
Nay, will dishonour her: I know the Boy
She keeps; a handsome Boy about eighteen;
Can tell what she does with him; where and when.
Come, Sir, you put me to a Woman's Madness,
The Glory of a Fury; and if I
Don't do it to the Height—

King.
What Boy is this?

Alga.
Good-minded Prince, alas Sir, you know nothing;
I'm loth to utter more. Keep in this Fault,
As you would keep your Health, from the hot Air
Of the corrupted People; or by Heav'n
I will not fall alone: What I have known
Shall be as publick as a Print; nay, as
Your Counsels, and by all as freely laught at.

King.
Has she a Boy?

Agr.
I think I've seen one, Sir,
That waits upon her.

King.
Get you to your Quarter;
For this Time I will study to forget you.

Alga.
Do you study to forget me, and I'll study to forget you.

[Exeunt King, Alga and Guard.
Agr.

Why here's a Male Spirit for Hercules! If
ever there be nine Worthies of Women this Wench
shall ride astride, and be their Captain.

Cleon.

Sure she has a Garrison of Devils in her
Tongue; she utter'd such Balls of Wild-fire, that all
the Doctors in the Country will scarce cure him:
That Boy was a strange found out Antidote to cure
her Infection, That Boy, that Princess's Boy, that
brave, chaste, virtuous Lady's Boy, and a fair Boy, a
well-spoken Boy: All these considered can make nothing
else

—But there I'll leave you, Gentlemen,

Adel.
Nay, we'll go wander with you.

[Exeunt.