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A Select Collection of Old English Plays Part 50

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ARA. 'Tis now about a week I have observ'd This alteration; it shakes him, like an ague, Once in two days, but holds him longer Than a fit o' th' gout. They whisper about the court As if the king had chid him for it, And now at length [had] found his haunts----

INO. A poor discovery! Who might not find 'em out, That would be so uncivil? I was about To follow him, but thought it an ign.o.ble way, Beneath the name of friends.h.i.+p, and so desisted.

About four days ago, meeting him i' th' long gallery, I ask'd him how he did? Taking me by the hand, He wrung it, and after a sigh or two, told me, "Not very well, but he had business"--and so we parted.

I saw him not again in twenty hours after; And then I ask'd him where he'd been so long?

He told me (as if he was ashamed To deny me such a poor request) I must not know: And when I told him his often absence was observ'd, Is it? (saith he) I cannot help it; but it shall No more be so; and at the last he stole away: Since when I saw him not.



NIC. O this wicked peace! Inophilus, Is there no hopes of war?

To lie at home to see our armours rust; We could keep the prince sober and merry too, If he would but exchange his court for a camp.

INO. The king is old, and doats upon his son; Is loth to venture him to danger: Yet at this time there is occasion.

The Argives have refus'd to pay their tribute, And are for certain preparing for invasion: Some say they have got into Iberia already.

ARA. Nay, then there's hopes; If we could but find the prince with a buff-coat again, I should be once more merry.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ EPHORBAS _the King_, RINATUS, EUBULUS, _and_ ARAMNES, _three Lords_.

EPH. See the amba.s.sadors entertain'd With such an evenness as should be us'd to men We neither fear nor love; let neither Too much obsequiousness teach them insolency, Nor any ill-usage brand us with incivility: Stay you, Rinatus.

[_He sighs. Exeunt_ EUBULUS _and_ ARAMNES.

Open thy bosom, and receive torrents of sorrow, That lie like rocks of lead upon my soul; Honest Rinatus, experience bids me trust thee With a mighty secret. Thou canst not choose But know my son of late is much retir'd.

I do not like that youth should be thus melancholy: Let them enjoy themselves; for age will come, Whose impotency will deny all pleasures.

I do believe he loves me. Ha?

RIN. Yes, doubtless, better than sick men health; Or those who are penn'd up in darkness Love the sun.

EPH. I speak not, as if I thought he did not; For thou know'st I humour him, afford him Liberty enough; I never chide him, nor express The least dislike of any action. Am not I a gentle father?

Methinks, were I a son again to such a father, I should not think he liv'd too long; shouldst thou, Rinatus?

RIN. No more doth he, upon my soul: One command of yours would make him venture upon Lightning, nay, almost make him act a sin, A thing he fears to name.

EPH. I do believe thee: But yet, methinks, should he be grown so impious, There might be found excuses.

A crown is a temptation; especially so near one: 'Tis not with princes as with other sons; And I am told too-- Hath not my hand the palsy?-- Doth a crown become grey hairs? To be a king Might make some men forswear all conscience.

But I know Plangus hath far n.o.bler thoughts; And yet an empire might excuse a parricide.

RIN. Sir, sure, you are a stranger to your son; For, give me leave to say, your fears are vain: So great a virtue as the prince's cannot Antic.i.p.ate his hopes by any sin.

Honour and duty have been acquainted with him now Too long to be divorc'd. Some sycophants there are (Such creatures still will haunt the court), I know, Love not the prince, because he loves not them.

Sir, shut your ears to them: they will betray you To your ruin. Jealousy's a disease Should be below a king, as that which seizeth On the basest spirits. O, shut it from your soul!

One may read in story what dire effects The fury hath brought forth. Kings make away Their only sons, and princes their fathers; And when they have done, they may despair at leisure.

EPH. I do not think Plangus Hath plots or on my crown or me; He was virtuous always, and is still, I hope: But why is he so much from court then, and alone too?

I do but ask the question.

RIN. It can be no design, believe me, sir; For crowns are won by other courses.

Aspirers must grow popular, be hedg'd about With their confederates. Then would he flatter you, Be jolly still, as if no melancholy thought were in him.

A guilty conscience would then teach him policy, And he would seek to take suspicion from all his carriages; Innocence makes him careless now.

EPH. Thou hast almost resolv'd me, The tempest in my soul is almost laid, And wants but time to calm it.

Youth hath its whimsies, nor are we To examine all their paths too strictly.

We went awry ourselves when we were young.

RIN. Sir!

EPH. Thou may'st be gone, Rinatus.

[_Exit_ RINATUS.

SCENE III.

EPHORBAS _solus_.

The blessing of an honest servant!

This Rinatus is truer unto me.

He loves the king as well as I Ephorbas; And may I live but to reward him, For he's too honest for a court.

_Enter_ ARTESIO.

How now, Artesio? thy looks speak strong amazement; I am with child to hear the news: prythee, Be quick in the delivery.

ART. The prince, an't please your majesty----

EPH. What of him, Artesio?

ART. I have observ'd, is much retir'd of late.

EPH. So have I too; this is no news.

ART. And I can whisper in your ear the cause.

'Twas chance, no policy of mine, betray'd his privacies: Ill-offices are not the engines I desire To rise by, only love to the young prince Makes me reveal them.

EPH. Nay, nay, without apology; If it were treason, it should not go down The sooner for all the gilded preparation.

Nor am I of so feminine a humour As to mistrust affection delivered bluntly: Plain meaning should be plainly told; Bad wares may have false lights, good can abide the day.

ART. But I know the nature of my office; Though kings still hug suspicion in their bosoms, They hate the causers; love to hear secrets too, Yet the revealers still fare the worse, Being either thought guilty of ends or weakness; And so esteem'd by those they tell them to Either unfit or dangerous to be trusted.

Perhaps, sir, when the prince and you are friends again You'll tell me that, had my love been real, I should have whisper'd the prince's errors to himself.

EPH. Without a syllable of prologue more, Or I shall verify your fears.

ART. In this brave city (take it as brief as may be) There lives a beauty, fit to command Them that command the world, And might be Alexander's mistress, were he yet alive, And had added empires as large as his desires: She's but a private merchant's wife; Yet the prince is so far gravell'd in her affection, I fear----

EPH. Then there is hopes I may recall him: Love is a childish evil, though the effects Are dangerous. A prince's errors grown public Will be scandalous. Poor boy! perhaps The jealous husband may commit a murder; I would not have him cut off so young: Love should be princes' recreation, not their business.

What physic must we give him for his cure?

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