Philaster Part 11

_King_. 'Tis a new language, that all love to learn, The common people speak it well already, They need no Grammer; understand me well, There be foul whispers stirring; cast him off!

And suddenly do it: Farewel.

[_Exit_ King.

_Are_. Where may a Maiden live securely free, Keeping her Honour safe? Not with the living, They feed upon opinions, errours, dreams, And make 'em truths: they draw a nourishment Out of defamings, grow upon disgraces, And when they see a vertue fortified Strongly above the battery of their tongues; Oh, how they cast to sink it; and defeated (Soul sick with Poyson) strike the Monuments Where n.o.ble names lie sleeping: till they sweat, And the cold Marble melt.

_Enter_ Philaster.

_Phi_. Peace to your fairest thoughts, dearest Mistress.

_Are_. Oh, my dearest 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'le 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 jealousie. 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 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 eye-lid, 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'le get thee a far better.

_Are_. Oh never, never such a boy again, as my _Bellario_.

_Phi_. 'Tis but your fond affection.

_Are_. With thee my boy, farewel for ever, All secrecy in servants: farewel faith, And all desire to do well for it self: Let all that shall succeed thee, for thy wrongs, Sell and betray chast love.

_Phi_. And all this pa.s.sion for a boy?

_Are_. He was your boy, and you put 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 do thus.

_Are_. Do what Sir? would you sleep?

_Phi_. For ever _Arethusa_. Oh you G.o.ds, Give me a worthy patience; Have I stood Naked, alone the shock of many fortunes?

Have I seen mischiefs numberless, and mighty Grow li[k]e a sea upon me? Have I taken Danger as stern as death into my bosom, And laught upon it, made it but a mirth, And flung it by? Do I live now like him, Under this Tyrant King, that languis.h.i.+ng Hears his sad Bell, and sees his Mourners? Do I Bear all this bravely, and must sink at length Under a womans falshood? Oh that boy, That cursed boy? None but a villain boy, to ease your l.u.s.t?

_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 Joy, 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 heaven is in your eyes, but in your hearts, More h.e.l.l than h.e.l.l has; how your tongues like Scorpions, Both heal and poyson; how your thoughts are woven With thousand changes in one subtle webb, And worn so by you. How that foolish man, That reads the story of a womans 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 frosts, 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 cannot distinguish. These sad Texts Till my last hour, I am bound to utter of you.

So farewel all my wo, all my delight.

[_Exit_ Phi.

_Are_. Be merciful ye G.o.ds 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_ Bell.

And guilty (me thinks) that boy looks now?

Oh thou dissembler, that before thou spak'st Wert in thy cradle false? sent to make lies, And betray Innocents; thy Lord and thou, May glory in the ashes of a Maid Fool'd by her pa.s.sion; but the conquest is Nothing so great as wicked. Fly away, Let my command force thee to that, which shame Would 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.

_Bell_. Oh what G.o.d Angry with men, hath sent this strange disease Into the n.o.blest 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 had struck his anger through my heart, And let out all the hope of future joyes, You need not bid me fly, I came to part, To take my latest leave, Farewel for ever; I durst not run away in honesty, From such a Lady, like a boy that stole, Or made some grievous fault; the power of G.o.ds a.s.sist you in your sufferings; 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_ Bell.

_Are_. Peace guide thee, th'ast overthrown me once, Yet if I had another _Troy_ to lose, Thou or another villain with thy looks, Might talk me out of it, and send me naked, My hair dishevel'd through the fiery streets.

[ _Enter a_ Lady

_La_. 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_.