University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

SCENE, a Wood.
Enter Philaster.
Oh, that I had been nourish'd in these Woods
With Milk of Goats, and Acorns, and not known
The Right of Crowns, nor the dissembling Trains
Of Womens Looks; but dig'd myself a Cave,
Where I, my Fire, my Cattle, and my Bed,
Might have been shut together in one Shed;
And then had taken me some Mountain Girl,
Beaten with Winds, chaste as the harden'd Rocks
Whereon she dwells; that might have strew'd my Bed
With Leaves, and Reeds, and with the Skins of Beasts
Our Neighbours; and have borne at her big Breasts
My large coarse Issue! This had been a Life
Free from Vexation.

Enter Bellario.
Bel.
Oh, wicked Men!
An Innocent may walk safe among Beasts:
Nothing assaults me here. See, my griev'd Lord
Looks as his Soul were searching out the Way
To leave his Body. Pardon me, that must
Break thro' thy last Command; for I must speak:
You, that are griev'd, can pity; hear, my Lord.

Phi.
Is there a Creature yet so miserable,
That I can pity?

Bel.
Oh, my noble Lord,
View my strange Fortune, and bestow on me,
According to your Bounty (if my Service
Can merit nothing) so much as may serve
To keep that little Piece I hold of Life
From Cold and Hunger.

Phi.
Is it thou? Be gone:
Go, sell those misbeseeming Cloaths thou wear'st,
And feed thyself with them.

Bel.
Alas! my Lord, I can get nothing for them:
The silly Country People think, 'tis Treason
To touch such gay Things.

Phi.
Now, by my Life, this is
Unkindly done, to vex me with thy Sight;
Thou'rt faln again to thy dissembling Trade:
How shouldst thou think to cozen me again?
Remains there yet a Plague untry'd for me?
Even so thou wept'st, and look'd'st, and spok'st, when first
I took thee up: Curse on the Time! If thy
Commanding Tears can work on any other,
Use thy old Art, I'll not betray it. Which
Way wilt thou take? that I may shun thee; for
Thine Eyes are Poison unto mine; and I
Am loth to grow in Rage. This Way, or that Way?

Bel.
Any will serve. But I will chuse to have
That Path in Chase that leads unto my Grave.

[Exeunt severally.
Enter Dion and the Woodmen.
Dion.
This is the strangest sudden Chance! You,
Woodman!—

1 Wood.
My Lord Dion.—

Dion.
Saw you a Lady come this Way on a sable
Horse studded with Stars of White?

2 Wood.
Was she not young and tall?

Dion.
Yes; Rode she to the Wood, or to the Plain?

2 Wood.
Faith, my Lord, we saw none.

[Exeunt Wood.
Dion.
Pox of your Questions then!
Enter Cleremont.
What, is she found?

Cle.

Nor will be, I think. There's already a thousand
fatherless Tales amongst us; some say, her Horse
run away with her; some a Wolf pursued her; others,
it was a Plot to kill her; and that armed Men were
seen in the Wood: But, questionless, she rode away
willingly.

Enter King, and Thrasiline.
King.
Where is she?

Cle.
Sir, I cannot tell.

King.
How is that?
Sir, speak you where she is.

Dion.
Sir, I do not know.

King.
You have betray'd me, you have let me lose
The Jewel of my Life: go, bring her me,
And set her here before me; 'tis the King
Will have it so. Alas! what are we Kings?
Why do you, Gods, place us above the rest;
To be serv'd, flatter'd, and ador'd, till we
Believe, we hold within our Hands your Thunder;
And when we come to try the Pow'r we have,
There's not a Leaf shakes at our Threatenings.
I have sinn'd, 'tis true, and here stand to be punish'd;
Yet would not thus be punish'd.

Enter Pharamond, Galatea, and Megra.
King.
What, is she found?

Pha.
No, we have ta'en her Horse.
He gallop'd empty by; There is some Treason:
You, Galatea, rode with her into the Wood; Why left you her?

Gal.
She did command me.

King.
You're all cuning to obey us for our Hurt;
But I will have her.
Run all, disperse yourselves: The Man that finds her,
Or (if she be kill'd) the Traitor; I'll make him great.

Pha.
Come, let us seek.

King.
Each Man a several Way; here I myself.

[Exeunt.
Another Part of the Wood.
Enter Arethusa.
Are.
Where am I now? Feet, find me out a Way,
Without the Counsel of my troubled Head;
I'll follow you boldly about these Woods,
O'er Mountains, thorough Brambles, Pits, and Floods:
Heaven, I hope, will ease me. I am sick.

Enter Bellario.
Bel.
Yonder's my Lady; Heav'n knows, I want nothing,
Because I do not wish to live; yet I
Will try her Charity. O hear, you that have Plenty,
And from that flowing Store, drop some on dry Ground: See,
The lively Red is gone to guard her Heart; (she faints)

I fear, she faints. Madam, look up; she breathes not;
Open once more those rosy Twins, and send
Unto my Lord, your latest Farewell; Oh, she stirs:
How is it, Madam?

Are.
'Tis not gently done,
To put me in a miserable Life,
And hold me there; I pray thee, let me go,
I shall do best without thee; I am well.

Enter Philaster.
Phi.
I am to blame to be so much in Rage:
I'll tell her cooly, when, and where I heard
This killing Truth. I will be temperate
In speaking, and as just in hearing it.
Oh monstrous! (seeing them)
Tempt me not, ye Gods! good Gods,
Tempt not a frail Man! what's he, that has a Heart,
But he must ease it here?

Bel.
My Lord, help the Princess.

Are.
I am well, forbear.

Phi.
Let me love Lightening, let me embrac'd
And kiss'd by Scorpions, or adore the Eyes
Of Basilisks, rather than trust the Tongues,
Of Hell-bred Women! Some good Gods look down,
And shrink these Veins up! stick me here a Stone,
Lasting to Ages in the Memory
Of this damn'd Act! Hear me, you wicked Ones!
You have put Hills of Fire into this Breast,
Not to be quench'd with Tears; for which may Guilt
Sit on your Bosoms! at your Meals, and Beds,
Despair await you! What, before my Face?
Poison of Asps between your Lips! Diseases
Be your best Issues! Nature make a Curse,
And throw it on you!

Are.
Dear Philaster, leave
To be enrag'd, and hear me.

Phi.
I have done;
Forgive my Passion. Not the calmed Sea,
When Æolus locks up his windy Brood,
Is less disturb'd than I. I'll make you know it.
Dear Arethusa, do but take this Sword,
And search how temperate a Heart I have;
Then you, and this your Boy, may live and reign
In Lust, without Controul. Wilt thou, Bellario?
I prithee, kill me; thou art poor, and may'st
Nourish ambitious Thoughts, when I am dead:
This Way were freer.

Are.
Kill you!

Bel.
Not for a World.

Phi.
I blame not thee,
Bellario; thou hast done but that which Gods
Would have transform'd themselves to do! be gone,
Leave me without Reply; this is the last
Of all our Meeting. Kill me with this Sword!
Be wife, or worse will follow; we are Two
Earth cannot bear at once. Resolve to do, or suffer.

Are.
If my Fortunes be so good to let me fall
Upon thy Hand, I shall have Peace in Death.
Yet tell me this, will there be no Slanders,
No Jealousies in the other World, no Ill there?

Phi.
No.

Are.
Shew me then the Way.

Phi.
Then guide
My feeble Hand, you that have Pow'r to do it!
For I must perform a Piece of Justice. If your Youth
Have any Way offended Heav'n, let Pray'rs
Short and effectual reconcile you to it.

Enter a Country Fellow.
Coun.

I'll see the King if he be in the Forest; I have
hunted him these two Hours; if I should come home
and not see him, my Sisters would laugh at me.
There's a Courtier with his Sword drawn, by this
Hand, upon a Woman, I think.

Are.
I am prepar'd.

Phi.
Are you at Peace?

Are.
With Heav'ns and Earth.

Phi.
May they divide thy Soul and Body!

Coun.
Hold, Dastard! offer to strike a Woman!

(preventing him)
Phi.
Leave us, good Friend.

Are.
What ill-bred Man art thou, to intrude thyself
Upon our private Sports, our Recreations?

Coun.

I understand you not; but I know the Knave
wou'd have hurt you.

Phi.
Pursue thy own Affairs; it will be ill
To multiply Blood upon my Head, which thou wilt force me to.

Coun.

I know not your Rhetorick; but I can lay it
on, if you offer to touch the Woman.

Phi.
Slave, take what thou deserv'st.

[They fight.
Are.
Heav'ns guard my Lord!

Bel.
Unmanner'd Boor!—my Lord!—

[Interposing, is wounded.
Phi.
I hear the Tread of People: I am hurt.
The Gods take Part against me, cou'd this Boor
Have held me thus else? I must shift for Life,
Though I do loath it.

[Exit Phi. and Bel.
Coun.
I cannot follow the Rogue.

Enter Pharamond, Dion, Cleremont, Thrasiline, and Woodmen.
Pha.
What art thou?

Coun.
Almost kill'd I am for a foolish Woman; a
Knave would have hurt her.

Pha.
The Princess, Gentlemen!

Dion.
'Tis above Wonder! Who should dare do this?

Pha.
Speak, Villain, who would have hurt the Princess?

Coun.
Is it the Princess?

Dion.
Ay.

Coun.
Then I have seen Something yet.

Pha.
But who would have hurt her?

Coun.
I told you, a Rogue; I ne'er saw him before, I.

Pha.
Madam, who was it?

Are.
Some dishonest Wretch;
Alas! I know him not, and do forgive him.

Coun.

He's hurt himself, and soundly too, he cannot
go far; I made my Father's old Fox fly about his
Ears.

Pha.
How will you have me kill him?

Are.
Not at all,
'Tis some distracted Fellow.
If you do take him, bring him quick to me,
And I will study for a Punishment,
Great as his Fault.

Pha.
I will.

Are.
But swear.

Pha.
By all my Love, I will:
Woodmen, conduct the Princess to the King,
And bear that wounded Fellow unto Dressing:
Come, Gentlemen, we'll follow the Chase close.

[Ex. Are. Pha. Dion. Cle. Thra. and 1 Woodman.
Coun.
I pray you, Friend, let me see the King.

2 Wood.
That you shall, and receive Thanks.

Coun.
If I get clear of this, I'll go see no more gay
Sights.

[Exeunt.
Scene, another Part of the Wood.
Enter Bellario, with a Scarf.
Bel.
Yes, I am hurt; and would to Heav'n it were
A Death's Wound to me! I am faint and weak
With Loss of Blood: My Spirits ebb a-pace:
A Heaviness near Death sits on my Brow,
And I must sleep: Bear me, thou gentle Bank,
For ever, if thou wilt, you sweet Ones all,
Let me unworthy press you: I cou'd wish,
I rather were a Corse strew'd over with you,
Than quick above you. Dulness shuts mine Eyes,
And I am giddy. Oh! that I could take
So sound a Sleep, that I might never wake.

Enter Philaster.
Phi.
I have done ill; my Conscience calls me false.
What strike at her, that would not strike at me!
When I did fight, methought, I heard her pray
The Gods to guard me. She may be abus'd,
And I a loathed Villain: If she be,
She'll not discover me; the Slave has Wounds,
And cannot follow, neither knows he me.
Who's this? Bellario sleeping! If thou beest
Guilty, there is no Justice that thy Sleep
Should be so sound; and mine, whom thou hast wrong'd
So broken.

Bel.
Who is there? My Lord Philaster!
[A Cry within.
Hark! You are pursu'd, fly, fly my Lord! and save
Yourself.

Phi.
How's this! would'st Thou I should be safe?

Bel.
Else were it vain for me to live; oh seize,
My Lord, this offer'd Means of your Escape!
The Princess, I am sure, will ne'er reveal you;
They have no Mark to know you, but your Wounds;
I, coming in betwixt the Boor and you,
Was wounded too. To stay the Loss of Blood
I did bind on this Scarf, which thus
I tear away. Fly! and 'twill be believed
'Twas I assail'd the Princess.

Phi.
O Heavens!
What hast thou done? Art thou then true to me?

Bel.
Or let me perish loath'd! Come, my good Lord,
Creep in amongst those Bushes: Who does know,
But that the Gods may save your much-lov'd Breath?

Phi..
Oh, I shall die for Grief! What wilt thou do?

Bel.
Shift for myself well: Peace, I hear 'em come!

Within.

Follow, follow, follow; that Way they went.

Bel.
With my own Wounds I'll bloody my own Sword!
I need not counterfeit to fall; Heav'n knows
That I can stand no longer.

Enter Pharamond, Dion, Cleremont, Thrasiline, &c.
Pha.
To this Place we have track'd him by his Blood.

Cle.
Yonder, my Lord, creeps one away.

Dion.
Stay, Sir, what are you?

Bel.
A wretched Creature wounded in these Woods
By Beasts! relieve me, if your Names be Men,
Or I shall perish!

Dion.
This is he, my Lord,
Upon my Soul, assail'd her; 'tis the Boy,
That wicked Boy, that serv'd her.

Pha.
O thou damn'd
In thy Creation! What Cause could'st thou shape
To hurt the Princess?

Bel.
Then I am betray'd.

Dion.
Betray'd! no, apprehended.

Bel.
I confess,
Urge it no more, that, big with evil Thoughts,
I set upon her, and did make my Aim
Her Death. For Charity, let fall at once
The Punishment you mean, and do not load
This weary Flesh with Tortures!

Pha.
I will know
Who hir'd thee to this Deed.

Bel.
My own Revenge.

Pha.
Revenge, for what?

Bel.
It pleas'd her to receive
Me as her Page, and, when my Fortunes ebb'd,
That Men strid o'er them careless, she did shower
Her welcome Graces on me, and did swell
My Fortunes, till they overflow'd their Banks,
Threatning the Men that crost 'em; when, as swift
As Storms arise at Sea, she turn'd her Eyes
To burning Suns upon me, and did dry
The Streams she had bestow'd; leaving me worse,
And more contemn'd than other little Brooks,
Because I had been great: In short, I knew
I could not live, and therefore did desire
To die reveng'd.

Pha.
If Tortures can be found,
Long as thy natural Life, prepare to feel
The utmost Rigour.

Cle.
Help to lead him hence.

Philaster comes forth.
Phi.
Turn back you Ravishers of Innocence!
Know ye the Price of that you bear away
So rudely?

Pha.
Who's that?

Dion.
'Tis the Lord Philaster.

Phi.
'Tis not the Treasure of all Kings in one,
The Wealth of Tagus, nor the Rocks of Pearl
That pave the Court of Neptune, can weigh down
That Virtue. It was I assail'd the Princess.
Place me, some God, upon a Piramis,
Higher than Hills of Earth, and lend a Voice
Loud as your Thunder to me, that from thence
I may discourse to all the Under-world
The Worth that dwells in him!

Pha.
How's this?

Bel.
My Lord, some Man
Weary of Life, that would be glad to die.

Phi.
Leave these untimely Courtesies, Bellario.

Bel.
Alas! he's mad; come, will you lead me on?

Phi.
By all the Oaths that Men ought most to keep,
And Gods do punish most, when Men do break,
He touch'd her not. Take Heed, Bellario,
How thou dost drown the Virtues, thou hast shown,
With Perjury. By all that's good, 'twas I:
You know, she stood betwixt me and my Right.

Pha.
Thy own Tongue be thy Judge.

Cle.
It was Philaster.

Dion.
Is't not a brave Boy?
Well, Sirs, I fear me, we are all deceiv'd.

Phi.
Have I no Friend here?

Dion.
Yes.

Phi.
Then shew it; some
Good Body lend a Hand to draw us nearer.
Would you have Tears shed for you when you die?
Then lay me gently on his Neck, that there
I may weep Floods, [they lead him to Bellario]
and breathe out my Spirit:
'Tis not the Wealth of Plutus, nor the Gold
Lock'd in the Heart of Earth can buy away
This Arm-full from me. You hard-hearted Men,
More stony than these Mountains, can you see
Such clear pure Blood drop, and not cut your Flesh
To stop his Life? To bind, whose bitter Wounds,
Queens ought to tear their Hair, and with their Tears
Bathe 'em. Forgive me, thou that art the Wealth
Of poor Philaster!

Enter King, Arethusa, and a Guard.
King.
Is the Villain ta'en?

Pha.
Sir, here be two confess the Deed; but say it was
Philaster.

Phi.
Question it no more, it was.

King.
The Fellow, that did fight with him, will tell us.

Are.
Ah me! I know he will.

King.
Did not you know him?

Are.
No, Sir; if it was he, he was disguised.

Phi.
I was so. Oh my Stars! that I should live still.

King.
Thou ambitious Fool!
Thou, that hast laid a Train for thy own Life;
Now I do mean to do, I'll leave to talk.
Bear him to Prison.

Are.
Sir, they did plot together to take hence
This harmless Life; should it pass unreveng'd,
I should to Earth go weeping: Grant me then
(By all the Love a Father bears his Child)
The Custody of both, and to appoint
Their Tortures, and their Death.

King.
'Tis granted: Take 'em to you, with a Guard.
Come, Princely Pharamond, this Business past,
We may with more Security go on
To your intended Match.

[Exeunt.