University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

SCENE, an Antechamber in the Palace.
Enter Dion, Cleremont, and Thrasiline.
Cleremont.

Here's nor Lords, nor Ladies

Dion.

Credit me, Gentlemen, I wonder at
it. They receiv'd strict Charge from the
King to attend here: Besides, it was loudly
publish'd, that no Officer should forbid any Gentlemen
that desired to attend and hear.

Cle.

Can you guess the Cause?

Dion.

Sir, it is plain, about the Spanish Prince; that's
come to marry our Kingdom's Heir, and be our Sovereign.

Cle.

Many, that will seem to know much, say, she
looks not on him like a Maid in Love.

Thra.

They say too, moreover, that the Lady Megra
(sent hither by the Queen of Spain, Pharamond's Mother,

to grace the Train of Arethusa, and attend her to
her new Home, when espoused to the Prince) carries
herself somewhat too familiarly towards Pharamond; and
it is whisper'd, that there is too close an Intercourse
between him and that Lady.

Dion.

Troth, perhaps, there may; tho' the Multitude
(that seldom know any thing but their own Opinions)
speak what they would have. But the Prince, before
his own Approach, receiv'd so many confident Messages
from the State, and bound himself by such
indissoluble Engagements, that, I think, their Nuptials
must go forwards, and that the Princess is resolv'd
to be ruled.

Cle.

Sir, is it thought, with her he shall enjoy both
these Kingdoms of Sicily and Calabria?

Dion.

Sir, it is, without Controversy, so meant.
But 'twill be a troublesome Labour for him to enjoy
both these Kingdoms with Safety, the right Heir to
one of them living, and living so virtuously; especially,
the People admiring the Bravery of his Mind,
and lamenting his Injuries.

Cle.

Who, Philaster?

Dion.

Yes, whose Father, we all know, was by our
late King of Calabria unrighteously depos'd from his
fruitful Sicily. Myself drew some Blood in those Wars,
which I would give my Hand to be wash'd from.

Cle.

Sir, my Ignorance in State-Policy will not let
me know, why, Philaster being Heir to one of these
Kingdoms, the King should suffer him to walk abroad
with such free Liberty.

Dion.

Sir, it seems, your Nature is more constant
than to enquire after State-News. But the King, of
late, made a Hazard of both the Kingdoms of Sicily
and his own, with offering but to imprison Philaster.
At which the City was in Arms, not to be charm'd
down by any State-Order or Proclamation, till they
saw Philaster ride through the Streets pleas'd, and
without a Guard; at which they threw their Hats,

and their Arms from them; some to make Bonfires,
some to drink, all for his Deliverance: Which, wise
Men say, is the Cause the King labours to bring in the
Power of a Foreign Nation to awe his own with.

[Flourish.
Thra.
Peace, the King.

Scene draws, and discovers the King, Pharamond, Arethusa, and Train
King.
To give a stronger Testimony of Love
Than sickly Promises (which commonly
In Princes find both Birth and Burial
In one Breath) we have drawn you, worthy Sir,
To make your fair Indearments to our Daughter,
And worthy Services known to our Subjects,
Now lov'd and wonder'd at: Next, our Intent
To plant you deeply, our immediate Heir,
Both to our Blood and Kingdoms. For this Lady,
(The best Part of your Life, as you confirm me,
And I believe) though her few Years and Sex
Yet teach her nothing but her Fears and Blushes;
Think not, dear Sir, these undivided Parts,
That must mould up a Virgin, are put on
To shew her so, as borrow'd Ornaments;
To speak her perfect Love to you, or add
An artificial Shadow to her Nature.
Last, noble Son, (for so I now must call you)
What I have done thus publick, is not only
To add a Comfort in particular
To you or me, but all; and to confirm
The Nobles, and the Gentry of these Kingdoms,
By Oath to your Succession, which shall be
Within this Month at most.

Pha.
Kissing your white Hand, Mistress, I take Leave,
To thank your Royal Father; and thus far,
To be my own free Trumpet. Understand,
Great King, and these your Subjects! Gentlemen,
Believe me in a Word, a Prince's Word,
There shall be nothing to make up a Kingdom
Mighty, and flourishing, defenced, fear'd,
Equal to be commanded and obey'd,
But through the Travels of my Life I'll find it,
And tie it to this Country. And I vow,
My Reign shall be so easy to the Subject,
That ev'ry Man shall be his Prince himself,
And his own Law: (yet I his Prince and Law.)
And dearest Lady, let me say, you are
The Blessed'st living; for, sweet Princess, you
Shall make him your's, for whom great Queens must die.

Thra.
Miraculous!

Cle.
This Speech calls him Spaniard, being nothing but
A large Inventory of his own Commendations.
But here comes one more worthy those large Speeches,
Than the large Speaker of them.

Enter Philaster.
Phi.
Right noble Sir, as low as my Obedience,
And with a Heart as loyal as my Knee,
I beg your Favour.

King.
Rise; you have it, Sir.
Speak your Intents, Sir.

Phi.
Shall I speak 'em freely?—
Be still my Royal Sovereign.

King.
As a Subject,
We give you Freedom.

Dion.
Now it heats.

Phi.
Then thus I turn
My Language to you, Prince; you, Foreign Man.
Ne'er stare, nor put on Wonder, for you must
Indure me, and you shall. This Earth you tread on
(A Dowry, as you hope, with this fair Princess)
By my dead Father (Oh! I had a Father,
Whose Memory I bow to) was not left
To your Inheritance, and I up and living;
Having myself about me and my Sword,
The Souls of all my Name, and Memories,
These Arms and some few Friends, besides the Gods,
To part so calmly with it, and sit still,
And say, I might have been. I tell thee, Pharamond,
When thou art King, look, I be dead and rotten,
And my Name Ashes: For hear me, Pharamond,
This very Ground thou goest on, this fat Earth,
My Father's Friends made fertile with their Faiths,
Before that Day of Shame, shall gape and swallow
Thee and thy Nation, like a hungry Grave,
Into her hidden Bowels: Prince, it shall;
By Nemesis, it shall.

King.
You do displease us:
Your are too bold.

Phi.
No, Sir, I am too tame,
Too much a Turtle, a Thing born without Passion,
A faint Shadow, that every drunken Cloud sails over,
And maketh nothing.

Pha.
What you have seen in me to stir Offence,
I cannot find; unless it be this Lady
Offer'd into mine Arms, with the Succession,
Which I must keep, though it hath pleas'd your Fury
To mutiny within you. The King grants it,
And I dare make it mine. You have your Answer.

Phi.
If thou wert sole Inheritor to him
That made the World his, and were Pharamond
As truly valiant, as I feel him cold,
And ring'd among the choicest of his Friends,
And from this Presence, spite of all these Stops,
You should hear further from me.

King.
Sir, you wrong the Prince:
I gave you not this Freedom to brave our best Friends,
You do deserve our Frown: Go to, be better temper'd:

Phi.
It must be, Sir, when I am nobler us'd.

King.
Philaster, tell me
The Injuries you aim at in your Riddles.

Phi.
If you had my Eyes, Sir, and Sufferance,
My Griefs upon you, and my broken Fortunes,
My Wants great, and now nought but Hopes and Fears,
My Wrongs would make ill Riddles to be laughed at.
Dare you be still my King, and right me not?

King.
Go to:
Be more your Self, as you respect our Favour;
You'll stir us else: Sir, I must have you know
That you're, and shall be, at our Pleasure, what Fashion we
Will put upon you: Smooth your Brow, or by the Gods—

Phi.
I am dead, Sir, you're my Fate: It was not I
Said I was wrong'd: I carry all about me
My weak Stars led me to, all my weak Fortunes.
Who dares in all this Presence speak, (that is
But Man of Flesh and may be mortal) tell me,
I do not most entirely love this Prince,
And honour his full Virtues!

King.
Sure, he's possest.

Phi.
Yes, with my Father's Spirit: It's here, O King!
A dangerous Spirit; now he tells me, King,
I was a King's Heir; bids me be a King;
And whispers to me, these be all my Subjects.
'Tis strange, he will not let me sleep, but dives
Into my Fancy, and there gives me Shapes
That kneel, and do me Service, cry me King:
But I'll suppress him, he's a factious Spirit,
And will undo me: Noble Sir, your Hand,
I am your Servant.

King.
Away, I do not like this:
For this Time I pardon your wild Speech.

[Exeunt King, Pha. Are. and Train.
Dion.
See, how his Fancy labours: Has he not
Spoke home, and bravely? What a dangerous Train
Did he give Fire to! How he shook the King!
Made his Soul melt within him, and his Blood
Run into Whey! It stood upon his Brow
Like a cold Winter Dew.

Phi.
Gentlemen,
You have no Suit to me: I am no Minion:
You stand, methinks, like Men that would be Courtiers,
If you could well be flatter'd at a Price,
Not to undo your Children: You're all honest:
Go get you home again, and make your Country
A virtuous Court; to which your Great Ones may,
In their diseased Age, retire, and live recluse.

Cle.
How do you, worthy Sir?

Phi.
Well, very well,
And so well, that if the King please, I find,
I may live many Years.

Dion.
The King must please,
Whilst we know what you are, and who you are,
Your Wrongs and Injuries: Shrink not, worthy Sir,
But add your Father to you: In whose Name
We'll waken all the Gods, and conjure up
The Rods of Vengeance, the abused People;
Who, like to raging Torrents, shall swell high,
And so begirt the Dens of these Male-Dragoons,
That, through the strongest Safety, they shall beg
For Mercy at your Sword's Point.

Phi.
Friends, no more;
Our Ears may be corrupted: 'Tis an Age
We dare not trust our Wills to: Do you love me?

Thra.
Do we love Heav'n and Honour?

Phi.
My Lord Dion,
You had a virtuous Gentlewoman call'd you Father:
Is she yet alive?

Dion.
Most honour'd Sir, she is:
And for the Penance but of an idle Dream,
Has undertook a tedious Pilgrimage.

Enter a Lady.
Phi.
Is it to me, or any of these Gentlemen you come?

Lady.
To you, brave Lord; the Princess would intreat
Your present Company.

Phi.
Kiss her fair Hand, and say, I will attend her.

Dion.
Do you know what you do?

Phi.
Yes, go to see a Woman.

Cle.
But do you weigh the Danger you are in?

Phi.
Danger in a sweet Face?
Her Eye may shoot me dead, or those true red
And white Friends in her Face may steal my Soul out:
There's all the Danger in't: But be what may,
Her single Name hath armed me.

[Exit.
Dion.
Go on:
And be as truly happy as thou art fearless:
Come, Gentlemen, let's make our Friends acquainted,
Lest the King prove false.

[Exeunt.
Scene changes to another Apartment.
Enter Arethusa and a Lady.
Are.
Comes he not?

Lady.
Madam?

Are.
Will Philaster come?

Lady.
Dear Madam, you were wont
To credit me at first.

Are.
But didst thou tell me so?
I am forgetful, and my Woman's Strength
Is so o'ercharg'd with Danger like to grow
About my Marriage, that these under Things
Dare not abide in such a troubled Sea:
How look'd he, when he told thee he would come?

Lady.
Why, well.

Are.
And not a little fearful?

Lady.
Fear, Madam? Sure he knows not what it is.

Are.
You are all of his Faction; the whole Court
Is bold in Praise of him; whilst I
May live neglected, and do noble Things,
As Fools in Strife throw Gold into the Sea,
Drown'd in the Doing: But, I know, he fears.

Lady.
Fear? Madam, methought, his Looks hid more
Of Love than Fear.

Are.
Of Love? to whom? to you?
Did you deliver those plain Words I sent
With such a winning Gesture, and quick Look,
That you have caught him?

Lady.
Madam, I mean to you.

Are.
Of Love to me? Alas! thy Ignorance
Lets thee not see the Crosses of our Births.
Nature, that loves not to be question'd why
She did or this, or that, but has her Ends,
And knows she does well, never gave the World
Two Things so opposite, so contrary,
As He, and I am.

Lady.
Madam, I think I hear him.

Are.
Bring him in:
[Exit Lady.
You Gods, that would not have your Dooms withstood,
Whose holy Wisdoms at this Time it is,
To make the Passion of a feeble Maid
The Way unto your Justice, I obey.

Re-enter Lady and Philaster.
Lady.
Here is my Lord Philaster.

Are.
Oh! 'tis well:
Withdraw yourself.

[Exit Lady.
Phi.
Madam, your Messenger
Made me believe, you wish'd to speak with me.

Are.
'Tis true, Philaster;
Have you known,
That I have ought detracted from your Worth?
Have I in Person wrong'd you? Or have set
My baser Instruments to throw Disgrace
Upon your Virtues?

Phi.
Never, Madam, you.

Are.
Why then should you, in such a public Place,
Injure a Princess, and a Scandal lay
Upon my Fortunes, fam'd to be so great;
Calling a great Part of my Dowry in Question?

Phi.
Madam, this Truth, which I shall speak, will seem
Foolish: But for your fair and virtuous Self,
I could afford myself to have no Right
To any thing you wish'd.

Are.
Philaster, know,
I must enjoy these Kingdoms, of Calabria
And Sicily: By Fate, I die, Philaster,
If I not calmly may enjoy them both.

Phi.
I would do much to save that noble Life:
Yet would be loth to have Posterity
Find in our Stories, that Philaster gave
His Right unto a Scepter, and a Crown,
To save a Lady's Longing.

Are.
Nay, then hear:
I must, and will have them, and more.

Phi.
What more? Say, you would have my Life;
Why, I will give it you; for it is of me
A Thing so loath'd, and unto you that ask
Of so poor Use, I will unmov'dly hear.

Are.
Fain would I speak, and yet the Words are such
I have to say, and do so ill beseem
The Mouth of Woman, that I wish them said,
And yet am loth to utter them.—Oh turn
Away thy Face!—a little bend thy Looks!—
Spare, spare me, Oh Philaster!

Phi.
What means this?

Are.
But that my Fortunes hang upon this Hour,
But that Occasion urges me to speak,
And that perversely to keep Silence now
Would doom me to a Life of Wretchedness,
I could not thus have summon'd thee, to tell thee,
The Thoughts of Pharamond are Scorpions to me,
More horrible than Danger, Pain or Death!
Yes—I must have thy Kingdoms—must have thee!

Phi.
How me?

Are.
Thy Love!—without which all the Land
Discovered yet, will serve me for no Use
But to be buried in.

Phi.
Is't possible?

Are.
With it, it were too little to bestow
On thee: Now, though thy Breath doth strike me dead,
(Which, know, it may) I have unript my Breast.

Phi.
Madam, you are too full of noble Thoughts,
To lay a Train for this contemned Life,
Which you may have for asking: To suspect
Were base, where I deserve no ill: Love you!
By all my Hopes, I do, above my Life:
But how this Passion should proceed from you
So violently—

Are.
Another Soul, into my Body shot,
Could not have fill'd me with more Strength and Spirit,
Than this thy Breath: But spend not hasty Time,
In seeking how I came thus: 'Tis the Gods,
The Gods, that make me so; and, sure, our Love
Will be the nobler, and the better blest,
In that the secret Justice of the Gods
Is mingled with it. Let us leave and part,
Lest some unwelcome Guest should fall betwixt.

Phi.
'Twill be ill,
I should abide here long.

Are.
'Tis true, and worse
You should come often: How shall we devise
To hold Intelligence, that our true Loves
On any new Occasion may agree,
What Path is best to tread?

Phi.
I have a Boy
Sent by the Gods, I hope, to this Intent,
Not yet seen in the Court. Hunting the Buck,
I found him sitting by a Fountain-Side,
Of which he borrow'd some to quench his Thirst,
And paid the Nymph again as much in Tears;
A Garland lay by him, made by himself,
Of many several Flowers, bred in the Bay,
Stuck in that mystick Order, that the Rareness
Delighted me: But ever when he turned
His tender Eyes upon 'em, he would weep,
As if he meant to make 'em grow again.
Seeing such pretty helpless Innocence
Dwell in his Face, I ask'd him all his Story;
He told me, that his Parents gentle dy'd,
Leaving him to the Mercy of the Fields,
Which gave him Roots; and of the crystal Springs,
Which did not stop their Courses; and the Sun,
Which still, he thank'd him, yielded him his Light;
Then took he up his Garland, and did shew,
What every Flower, as Country People hold,
Did signify; and how all, ordered thus,
Exprest his Grief; and to my Thoughts did read
The prettiest Lecture of his Country Art
That cou'd be wish'd: So that, methought, I cou'd
Have studied it. I gladly entertain'd him,
Who was as glad to follow; and have got
The trustiest, loving'st, and the gentlest Boy,
That ever Master kept: Him will I send
To wait on you, and bear our hidden Love.

Enter Lady.
Are.
'Tis well; no more.

Lady.
Madam, the Prince is come to do his Service.

Are.
What will you do, Philaster, with yourself?
Dear, hide thyself. Bring in the Prince.

Phi.
Hide me from Pharamond!
When Thunder speaks, which is the Voice of Jove,
Though I do Reverence, yet I hide me not.

Are.
Then, good Philaster, give him Scope and Way
In what he says; for he is apt to speak
What you are loth to hear: For my Sake do.

Phi.
I will.

Enter Pharamond.
Pha.
My Princely Mistress, as true Lovers ought,
I come to kiss these fair Hands; and to shew,
In outward Ceremonies, the dear Love
Writ in my Heart.

Phi.
If I shall have an Answer no directlier,
I am gone.

Pha.
To what would he have an Answer?

Are.
To his Claim unto the Kingdom.

Pha.
I did forbear you, Sir, before the King.

Phi.
Good Sir, do so still; I would not talk with you.

Pha.
But now the Time is fitter.

Phi.
Pharamond,
I loath to brawl with such a Blast as thou,
Who art nought but a valiant Voice: But if
Thou shalt provoke me further, Men shall say,
Thou wert, and not lament it.

Pha.
Do you slight
My Greatness so, and in the Chamber of the Princess!

Phi.
It is a Place, to which, I must confess,
I owe a Reverence: But were't the Church,
Ay, at the Altar, there's no Place so safe,
Where thou dar'st injure me, but I dare punish thee:
Farewell.
[Exit Philaster.

Pha.
Insolent Boaster! offer but to mention
Thy Right to any Kingdom—

Are.
Let him go;
He is not worth your Care.

Pha.
My Arethusa!
I hope our Hearts are Knit; and yet so slow
State Ceremonies are, it may be long
Before our Hands be so: If then you please,
Being agreed in Heart, let us not wait
For Pomp and Circumstance, but solemnize
A private Nuptial, and anticipate
Delights, and so foretaste our Joys to come.

Are.
My Father, Sir, is all in all to me;
Nor can I give my Fancy or my Will
More Scope than he shall warrant. When he bids
My Eye look up to Pharamond for Lord,
I know my Duty; but, till then, farewell.

[Exit.
Pha.
Nay!—but there's more in this—some happier Man!
Perhaps Philaster!—Sdeath! let me not think on't.
—She must be watch'd—He too must be ta'en Care of,
Or all my Hopes of her and Empire rest
Upon a sandy Bottom.—If she means
To wed me, well; if not—I swear Revenge.

[Exit.