University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

SCENE, the Court.
Enter Philaster.
O, that I had a Sea
Within my Breast, to quench the Fire I feel!
More Circumstances will but fan this Fire.
It more afflicts me now, to know by whom
This Deed is done, than simply that 'tis done.
Woman, frail Sex! the Winds that are let loose
From the four several Corners of the Earth,
And spread themselves all over Sea and Land,
Kiss not a chaste one! Taken with her Boy!
O, that, like Beasts, we could not grieve ourselves
With what we see not! Bulls and Rams will fight
To keep their Females standing in their Sight;
But take 'em from them, and you take at once
Their Spleens away; and they will fall again
Unto their Pastures, growing fresh and fat;
And taste the Water of the Springs as sweet
As 'twas before, finding no Start in Sleep.
But miserable Man—See, see, you Gods,
[Seeing Bellario at a Distance.
He walks still! and the Face, you let him wear
When he was innocent, is still the same,
Not blasted. Is this Justice? Do you mean
To intrap Mortality, that you allow
Treason so smooth a Brow?
Enter Bellario.
I cannot now
Think he is guilty.

Bel.
Health to you, my Lord!
The Princess doth commend her Love, her Life,
And this unto you.

[Gives a Letter.
Phi.
Oh Bellario,
Now I perceive she loves me; she does shew it
In loving thee, my Boy; sh'as made thee brave.

Bel.
My Lord, she has attired me past my Wish,
Past my Desert; more fit for her Attendant,
Though far unfit for me, who do attend.

Phi.
Thou art grown courtly, Boy. O, let all Women,
[Reads.
That love black Deeds, learn to dissemble here!
Here, by this Paper she does write to me,
As if her Heart were Mines of Adamant
To all the World besides; but, unto me
A maiden Snow that melted with my Looks.
Tell me, my Boy, how doth the Princess use thee?
For I shall guess her Love to me by that.

Bel.
Scarce like her Servant, but as if I were
Something allied to her, or had preserv'd
Her Life three Times by my Fidelity:
As Mothers fond do use their only Sons;
As I'd use one that's left unto my Trust,
For whom my Life should pay, if he met Harm;
So she does use me.

Phi.
Why, this is wondrous well:
But what kind Language does she feed thee with?

Bel.
Why, she does tell me, she will trust my Youth
With all her loving Secrets; and does call me
Her pretty Servant; bids me weep no more
For leaving you; she'll see my Services
Rewarded; and such Words of that soft Strain,
That I am nearer weeping when she ends
Than e'er she spake.

Phi.
This is much better still.

Bel.
Are you not ill, my Lord?

Phi.
Ill! No, Bellario.

Bel.
Methinks your Words
Fall not from off your Tongue so evenly,
Nor is there in your Looks that Quietness,
That I was wont to see.

Phi.
Thou art deceiv'd, Boy:
And she stroaks thy Head?

Bel.
Yes.

Phi.
And does clap thy Cheeks?

Bel.
She does, my Lord.

Phi.
And she does kiss thee, Boy? ha!

Bel.
How, my Lord!

Phi.
She kisses thee?

Bel.
Not so, my Lord.

Phi.
Come, come, I know she does.

Bel.
No, by my Life.

Phi.
Why, then, she does not love me; come, she does,
I bad her do it; I charg'd her by all Charms
Of Love between us, by the Hope of Peace
We should enjoy, to yield thee all Delights.
Tell me, gentle Boy,
Is she not past Compare? Is not her Breath
Sweet as Arabian Winds, when Fruits are ripe?
Is she not all a lasting Mine of Joy?

Bel.
Ay, now I see why my disturbed Thoughts
Were so perplext. When first I went to her,
My Heart held Augury; you are abus'd;
Some Villain has abus'd you: I do see
Whereto you tend: Fall Rocks upon his Head,
That put this to you! 'tis some subtle Train,
To bring that noble Frame of yours to nought.

Phi.
Thou think'st, I will be angry with thee; come,
Thou shalt know all my Drift: I hate her more
Than I love Happiness; and plac'd thee there,
To pry with narrow Eyes into her Deeds.
Hast thou discover'd? Is she faln to Lust,
As I would wish her? Speak some Comfort to me.

Bel.
My Lord, you did mistake the Boy you sent:
Had she a Sin that way, hid from the World,
Beyond the Name of Sin, I would not aid
Her base Desires; but what I came to know
As Servant to her, I would not reveal,
To make my Life last Ages.

Phi.
Oh, my Heart!
This is a Salve worse than the main Disease.
Tell me thy Thoughts; for I will know the least
That dwells within thee, or will rip thy Heart
To know it; I will see thy Thoughts as plain
As I do now thy Face.

Bel.
Why, so you do.
She is (for ought I know) by all the Gods,
As chaste as Ice; but were she foul as Hell,
And I did know it thus, the Breath of Kings,
The Points of Swords, Tortures, nor Bulls of Brass,
Should draw it from me.

Phi.
Then it is no Time
To dally with thee; I will take thy Life,
For I do hate thee; I cou'd curse thee now.

Bel.
If you do hate, you could not curse me worse;
The Gods have not a Punishment in Store
Greater for me, than is your Hate.

Phi.
Fie, fie!
So young and so dissembling! Tell me when
And where thou didst possess her, or let Plagues
Fall on me strait, if I destroy thee not!

Bel.
Heav'n knows, I never did: And when I lie
To save my Life, may I live long and loath'd!
Hew me asunder, and, whilst I can think,
I'll love those Pieces you have cut away,
Better than those that grow; and kiss those Limbs,
Because you made them so.

Phi.
Fear'st thou not Death?
Can Boys contemn that?

Bel.
Oh, what Boy is he
Can be content to live to be a Man,
That sees the best of Men thus passionate,
Thus without Reason?

Phi.
Oh, but thou dost not know
What 'tis to die.

Bel.
Yes, I do know, my Lord;
'Tis less than to be born; a lasting Sleep,
A quiet Resting from all Jealousy;
A Thing we all pursue: I know, besides,
It is but giving over of a Game
That must be lost.

Phi.
But there are Pains, false Boy,
For perjur'd Souls; think but on these, and then
Thy Heart will melt, and thou wilt utter all.

Bel.
May they fall all upon me whilst I live,
If I be perjur'd, or have ever thought
Of that you charge me with! If I be false,
Send me to suffer in those Punishments
You speak of; kill me.

Phi.
Oh, what shou'd I do?
Why, who can but believe him? He does swear
So earnestly, that if it were not true,
The Gods would not endure him. Rise, Bellario;
Thy Protestations are so deep, and thou
Dost look so truly, when thou utterest them,
That though I know 'em false, as were my Hopes,
I cannot urge thee further: But thou wert
To blame to injure me, for I must love
Thy honest Looks, and take no Vengeance on
Thy tender Youth: A Love from me to thee
Is firm whate'er thou dost: It troubles me,
That I have call'd the Blood out of thy Cheeks,
That did so well become them. But, good Boy,
Let me not see thee more: Something is done,
That will distract me, that will make me mad,
If I behold thee; if thou tender'st me,
Let me not see thee.

Bel.
I will fly as far
As there is Morning, e'er I give Distaste
To that most honour'd Mind. But through these Tears,
Shed at my hopeless Parting, I can see
A World of Treason practis'd upon you,
And Her, and Me. Farewell, for evermore!
If you shall hear, that Sorrow struck me dead,
And after find me loyal, let there be
A Tear shed from you in my Memory,
And I shall rest at Peace.
[Exit Bel.

Phi.
Blessing be with thee,
Whatever thou deserv'st! Oh, where shall I
Go bathe this Body? Nature, too unkind,
That made no Medicine for a troubled Mind!
[Exit Philaster.

Scene, Arethusa's Apartment.
Enter Arethusa.
Are.
I marvel, my Boy comes not back again.
But that I know my Love will question him
Over and over; how I slept, wak'd, talk'd!
How I remembered him, when his dear Name
Was last spoke! and how, when I sigh'd, wept, sung,
And ten thousand such! I should be angry at his Stay.

Enter King.
King.
What, at your Meditations! Who attends you?

Are.
None but my single Self; I need no Guard;
I do no Wrong, nor fear none.

King.
Tell me, have you not a Boy?

Are.
Yes, Sir.

King.
What Kind of Boy?

Are.
A Page, a Waiting-Boy.

King.
A handsome Boy?

Are.
I think he be not ugly;
Well qualified, and dutiful, I know him;
I took him not for Beauty.

King.
He speaks, and sings, and plays?

Are.
Yes, Sir.

King.
About Eighteen?

Are.
I never ask'd his Age.

King.
Is he full of Service?

Are.
By your Pardon, why do you ask?

King.
Put him away.

Are.
Sir!

King.
Put him away; 'has done you that good Service
Shames me to speak of.

Are.
Good Sir, let me understand you.

King.
If you fear me,
Shew it in Duty; put away that Boy.

Are.
Let me have Reason for it, Sir, and then
Your Will is my Command.

King.
Do you not blush to ask it? Cast him off,
Or I shall do the same to you. You're one
Shame with me, and so near unto myself,
That, by my Life, I dare not tell myself
What you have done.

Are.
What have I done, my Lord?

King.
Understand me well;
There be foul Whispers stirring; cast him off,
And suddenly do it. Farewell.
[Exit King.

Are.
Where may a Maiden live securely free,
Keeping her Honour safe? Not with the Living,
They feed upon Opinions, Errors, Dreams,
And make 'em Truths: They draw a Nourishment
Out of Defamings, grow upon Disgraces,
And when they see a Virtue fortified
Strongly above the Battery of their Tongues,
Oh, how they cast to sink it; and defeated
(Soul-sick with Poison) strike the Monuments
Where noble Names lie sleeping.

Enter Philaster.
Phi.
Peace to your fairest Thoughts, my dearest Mistress!

Are.
Oh, my dear Servant, I have a War within me.

Phi.
He must be more than Man, that makes these Crystals
Run into Rivers. Sweetest Fair, the Cause;
And as I am your Slave, tied to your Goodness,
Your Creature made again from what I was,
And newly spirited, I'll right your Honours.

Are.
Oh, my best Love; that Boy!

Phi.
What Boy?

Are.
The pretty Boy you gave me.—

Phi.
What of him?

Are.
Must be no more mine.

Phi.
Why?

Are.
They are jealous of him.

Phi.
Jealous! who?

Are.
The King.

Phi.
Oh, my Fortune!
Then 'tis no idle Jealousy. Let him go.

Are.
Oh cruel,
Are you hard-hearted too? Who shall now tell you,
How much I lov'd you? Who shall swear it to you,
And weep the Tears I send? Who shall now bring you
Letters, Rings, Bracelets, lose his Health in Service?
Wake tedious Nights in Stories of your Praise?
Who now shall sing your crying Elegies,
And strike a sad Soul into senseless Pictures,
And make them mourn? Who shall take up his Lute,
And touch it, till he crown a silent Sleep
Upon my Eyelid, making me dream and cry,
Oh my dear, dear Philaster.

Phi.
Oh, my Heart!
Would he had broken thee, that made thee know
This Lady was not loyal! Mistress, forget
The Boy, I'll get thee a far better one.

Are.
Oh never, never, such a Boy again,
As my Bellario.

Phi.
'Tis but your fond Affection.

Are.
With thee, my Boy, farewell for ever
All Secrecy in Servants: Farewell Faith,
And all Desire to do well for itself:
Let all that shall succeed thee, for thy Wrongs,
Sell and betray chaste Love?

Phi.
And all this Passion for a Boy?

Are.
He was your Boy; you gave him to me, and
The Loss of such must have a Mourning for.

Phi.
O thou forgetful Woman!

Are.
How, my Lord?

Phi.
False Arethusa!
Hast thou a Medicine to restore my Wits,
When I have lost 'em? If not, leave to talk,
And to do thus.

Are.
Do what, Sir? Would you sleep?

Phi.
For ever, Arethusa. Oh, you Gods,
Give me a worthy Patience: Have I stood
Naked, alone, the Shock of many Fortunes?
Have I seen Mischiefs numberless, and mighty,
Grow like a Sea upon me? Have I taken
Danger as stern as Death into my Bosom,
And laugh'd upon it, made it but a Mirth,
And flung it by? Do I live now like him,
Under this Tyrant King, that languishing
Hears his sad Bell, and sees his Mourners? Do I
Bear all this bravely, and must sink at length
Under a Woman's Falsehood? Oh, that Boy,
That cursed Boy! None but a villain Boy,
To ease your Lust.

Are.
Nay, then I am betray'd;
I feel the Plot cast for my Overthrow;
Oh, I am wretched.

Phi.
Now you may take that little Right I have
To this poor Kingdom: Give it to your Boy!
For I have no Joy in it. Some far Place
Where never Womankind durst set her Foot,
For bursting with her Poisons, must I seek,
And live to curse you:
There dig a Cave, and preach to Birds and Beasts,
What Woman is, and help to save them from you.
How Heav'n is in your Eyes, but in your Hearts
More Hell than Hell has; how your Tongues, like Scorpions,
Both heal and poison: how your Thoughts are woven
With thousand Changes in one subtle Web,
And worn so by you. How that foolish Man,
That reads the Story of a Woman's Face,
And dies believing it, is lost for ever.
How all the Good you have, is but a Shadow,
I'th'Morning with you, and at Night behind you,
Past and forgotten. How your Vows are Frost,
Fast for a Night, and with the next Sun gone.
How you are, being taken all together,
A meer Confusion, and so dead a Chaos,
That Love cnnnot distinguish. These sad Texts,
Till my last Hour, I am bound to utter of you.
So farewell all my Woe, all my Delight!

[Exit.
Are.
Be merciful, ye Gods, and strike me dead;
What way have I deserv'd this? Make my Breast
Transparent as pure Crystal, that the World,
Jealous of me, may see the foulest Thought
My Heart holds. Where shall a Woman turn her Eyes,
To find out Constancy? Save me, how black,
Enter Bellario.
And guiltily, methinks, that Boy looks now?
Oh thou Dissembler, that, before thou spak'st,
Wert in thy Cradle false! Sent to make Lyes,
And betray Innocents; thy Lord and thou
May glory in the Ashes of a Maid
Fool'd by her Passion; but the Conquest is
Nothing so great as wicked. Fly away,
Let my Command force thee to that, which Shame
Should do without it. If thou understoodst
The loathed Office thou hast undergone,
Why, thou wouldst hide thee under Heaps of Hills,
Lest Men should dig and find thee.

Bel.
Oh what God,
Angry with Men, hath sent this strange Disease
Into the noblest Minds? Madam, this Grief
You add unto me is no more than Drops
To Seas, for which they are not seen to swell;
My Lord hath struck his Anger through my Heart,
And let out all the Hope of future Joys:
You need not bid me fly; I came to part,
To take my latest Leave.
I durst not run away in Honesty,
From such a Lady, like a Boy that stole,
Or made some grievous Fault. Farewell! The Gods
Assist you in your Suff'rings! Hasty Time
Reveal the Truth to your abused Lord,
And mine; that he may know your Worth! Whilst I
Go seek out some forgotten Place to die.

[Exit.
Are.
Peace guide thee! thou hast overthrown me once,
Yet, if I had another Heaven to lose,
Thou, or another Villain, with thy Looks,
Might talk me out of it.

Enter a Lady.
Lady.
Madam, the King would hunt, and calls for you
With Earnestness.

Are.
I am in Tune to hunt!
Diana, if thou canst rage with a Maid,
As with a Man, let me discover thee
Bathing, and turn me to a fearful Hind,
That I may die pursu'd by cruel Hounds,
And have my Story written in my Wounds.

[Exeunt.