WEll ore tane my Lord.

Noble friend welcome, and see who encounters vs, honourable good Clerimon.

Thats as their intelligence serues.

Hee is so, but not married yet.

But like to be, and shall haue in dowry with the Princesse this Kingdome of Cycele.

Soft and faire, there is more will forbid the baines, then say amen to the marriage: though the King vsurped the Kingdome, during the non-age of the Prince Phylaster, hee must not thinke to bereaue him of it quite; hee is now come to yeares to claime the Crowne.

And lose his headi' the askin.g.

A diadem worn by a headlesse King wold be wonderous, Phylaster is too weake in power.

He hath many friends.

And few helpers.

The people loue him.

No sir, a faire march a mile out of town that their wiues may bring them their dinners, is the hottest seruice that they are trained vp to.

My heart is with your wishes.

and comfort to her seruants: Last Noble son, for so I now must call you, what I haue done thus publik, is not to add a comfort in particular to you or mee, but all, and to confirme the Nobles and the Gentrie of our Kingdome by oath to your succession: which shall be within this moneth at most.

This will be hardly done.

It must be ill done, if it be done.

I feare.

Who dos not?

Kissing your white hand Mistrisse I take leaue, to thanke your royall Father: and thus far to be my owne free trompet: vnderstand great King, and these your subiects, mine that must be, for so deseruing you haue spoke me Sir: and so deseruing I dare speake my selfe, to what a person of what Eminence, ripe expectation, of what faculties, manners and vertues you would wed your Kingdomes, and in me haue your wishes: oh this countrey, by more then all the gods, I hold it happy, happy in their deor memories, that haue bin Kings great and good; happy in yours that is, and from you as a Chronicle to keepe your noble name from rotting Age: do I open my selfe most happy: Gentlemen beleeue me in a word, a Princes word, there shalbe nothing to make vp a Kingdome mighty and flourishing, defenced feard equall to be commanded and obeyed but through the trauels of my life, ile finde it out, and tie it to this countrey. By all the gods; my Raigne shall bee as easie to the subiects, that euery man shall bee his Prince himselfe, and his owne Law; Yet I his Prince and Law. And deerest Lady, to your deerest selfe, deere in the choyce of him, whose name and lustre, must make you more and mightier: Let mee say you are the blessedst liuing: for sweete Princesse, you shall inioy a man of men, to bee your seruant, you shall make him yours, for whom great Queenes must d e.

Miracles!

Rise, you haue it sir.

Speake your intents sir.

Shall I speake on freely, be still my royall Soueraigne.

As a subiect we giue you freedome.

Now it heates.

Then thus I turne my language to you Prince, you forraigne man nere start, nor put on wonder; you must indure mee, and you shal: This earth you tread vpon, a dowry as you hope with this sweet Princesse, whose memory I bow to, was not left by my dead father, O I had a father: to your inheritance, and I vp and liuing, hauing my selfe about me and my sword the soules of all my name and memories: these armes and some few friends besides the gods to part so calmely with it, and sit still and say I might haue bin, I tell thee Pharamont, when thou art King, looke I be dead and rotten, and my name ashes, as I: for heare mee Pharamont, this very ground thou goest on, this fat earth my fathers friends made firtile with their faiths: before that day of shame shall gape and swollow thee and thy nation, like a hungry graue into his hidden bowels: Prince it shall, by the iust gods it shall.

Hee's mad, beyond cure mad.

You displease vs, you are too bold.

I doe not thinke twill proue so.

Peace, we are all one soule.

It must be sir, when I am nobliervsde.

A dog it is.

Phylaster, tell me the iniuries you aime at in your riddles.

Giue me your wrongs in priuat.

He dares not stand the shocke.

Euery man in this Age has a soule of Christall, to read their actions, though mens faces are so farre asunder, that they hold no intelligence: but view the stranger well, and you shall see a feauer throw all his braueries, and feele him shacke like a true truant, if hee giue not backe his Crowne againe, vpon the report of an elder gun: I am no augery.

Go to, be more your selfe, as you respect our fauour, youle stirre vs else: sir I must haue you know, that you are, and shalbe at our pleasure, what fashion we will put vpon you, smooth your selfe, ore or by the gods

I am dead sir, you are my Fate, it was not I sayde I was wrongd, I carry all about me, my weake starres lead me too: all my weake fortunes, who dare in all this presence speake, that is but man of flesh, and may bee mortall, tell me, I doe not most intirely loue this Prince, and honour his full vertues.

Hees possest.

I thanke you sir, you dare not for the people.

Ladies what thinke you now of this braue fellow.

A pretie talking fellow hot at hand: but eye you stranger, is hee not a fine compleat Gentleman? O these strangers, I doe affect them strangely, they doe the rarest home things, and please the fullest, as I liue I could loue all their Nation ouer and ouer for his sake.

Gods comfort, your poore head-peece tis a weake one, and has need of an night-cap.

See how his fancy labours, has hee not spoke home and brauely, what a dangerous traine did he giue fire to, how hee shoke the King, made his soule melt within him, and his bloud runne into whay: it stood vpon his brow like a cold winter dew.

Gentlemen, you haue no sute to mee, I am no mynion, you stand mee thinkes, like men that would bee Courtiers, if you could well be flattered at a price not to vndo your Children, you are al honest, goe get you home againe, and make your Countrey a vertuous Court, to which your great ones may, in their diseased age, retire liue recluses.

How doe your worth sir.

Whilst we know who you are, and what you are, your wrongs and vertues shrinke not worthy sir: but call your father to you, in whose name we'le waken all the gods, and coniure vp the rods of vengance, the abused people, who like raging torants shall swell hie: and so begirt the dens of these Male-dragons, that through the strongest safety they shall beg for mercy at your swords point.

Friend no more, our eares may be corrupted, tis an Age we dare not trust our wils to, doe you loue me?

Doe we loue heauen and honour?

Most honourd sir shee is, and for a penance but of an idle dreame, has vndertooke a tedious pilgrimage.

I'st to me, or to any of these Gentlemen you come.

To you, braue Lord, the Princesse would intreate your present company.

The Princesse send for me, you are mistaken,

If you be cald Phylaster, tis you.

Kisse her faire hand, and say I will attend her.

Doe you know what you doe?

Yes, go to see a woman.

But doe you way the danger you are in?

Danger in a sweete face: By Iubiter I must not feare a woman.

I dare not thinke it Gentlemen, shee's noble, her eye may shoote mee dead, or those true red and white fiend frends in her cheekes, may steale my soule out, there's all the danger int: but bee what may, her single name hath armde me.

Go on, and be as truely happy as thou art fearelesse:

Come Gentlemen, lets make our friends acquainted, lest the king prooue false.

Comes he not.

Madame?

Will Phylaster come?

Deare Madame, you were wont to credit me at the first.

But didst thou tell me so.

I am forgetfull, and my womans strength is so ore chargde, with dangers like to grow about my marriage, that these vnder things dares not abide in such a troubled sea, how lookt hee when hee told thee he would come?

Why we ll.

And not a little fearefull.

You all are of his faction, the whole Court is bold in praise of him, whilst I may liue neglected, and doe noble things, as fooles in strife throw gold into the sea, drownde in the doing: but I know he feares.

Madame, mee thoughts his lookes hid more of loue then feare.

Of loue, to whom: to you, did you deliuer those plaine words I sent, with such a woing iesture and puicke lookes that you haue caught.

Madam I meaue to you.

Of loue to me: alas, thy ignorance lets thee not see the crosses of our births, nature that loues not to be questioned: why shee did this, or that, but has his ends, and knowes she dos well: neuer gaue the world to things so opposite, so bound to put as he and I am, if a boule of bloud drawne from this arme, would poison thee, a draught ofhis would cure thee: loue to me.

Madame, I thinke I heare him.

Bring him in: you gods that will not haue your dens with. stood, whose holy wisedomes at this time it is to make the passions of a feeble maid, the way into your Iustice, I obay.

Here is my Lord Phylaster.

Oh it is well, withdraw your selfe.

Neuer madame you.

Phylaster, know I must inioy these Kingdomes.

Madame both?

Nay then heare, I must and will haue them, and more.

What more?

Madame, what more?

Turne then away thy face.

No.

Doe.

Yet for my sake a little bend thy looks.

I do.

Then know I must haue them and thee.

And me!

Thy loue, without which, all the land discouerd yet, will serue me for no vse, but to be buried in.

I'st possible.

With it, it were too little to bestow on thee, now though thy breath strike me dead, which know it may, I haue vnript my breast.

which you might haue for asking, to suspect were base, where I deserue no ill: loue you by all my hopes, I doe aboue my life, but how this passion should proceed from you so violently, would amaze a man that would be Iealous.

T'will be ill I should abide here long.

I haue a boy, sent by the gods, I hope to this intent, not yet seene in the Court, hunting the buck I found him sitting by a fountaine side, of which he borrowed some, to quench his thirst, and payd the nymph as much againe in teares: a Garland lay him by, made by himselfe, of many seuerall flowers, bred in the vayle, stucke in that mistick order that the rarenesse delighted me, but euer when he turn'd his tender eye vpon vm, he would weepe as if he meant to make them grow againe, seeing such prety helplesse innocence dwel in his face: I askt him all his story, he told me that his parents gentle dyed, leauing him to the mercy ofthe fields: which gaue him roots, & of the christall springs, which did not stop the course, and the Sun, which still he thankt, it yeelded him his life: then tooke hee vp his garland, and did shew what euery flower, as countrey people hold, did signifie, and how all ordered thus exprest his griefe, and to my thoughts did read the pretiest lecture of his countrey art, that could be wisht, so that me thoughts I could haue studied it, I gladly entertainde him, whom was glad to follow: and haue got the trustiest, louingest, and the gentlest boy that euer maister kept, him wil I send to wayte on you and beare our hidden loue.

Madame, the Prince is come to doe his seruice.

What will you Phylaster doe with your selfe?

Why? that which all the gods haue appointed out for me.

Deare, hide thy selfe, bring in the Prince.

He cannot know it.

I will.

IfI shall haue an answer or no, derectly I am gone.

To what? what would he haue answer?

To his claime vnto the Kingdome.

Sira, I forbare you before the King.

Good sir doe so still, I would not talke with you.

But now the time is fitter, doe but offer to make mention of right to any kingdome, though it lie scarce habitable.

Good sir let me goe.

And by the gods

Peace Pharamont, if then

Leaue vs Phylaster.

I haue done.

What now?

Know Pharamont I loath to brawle with such a blast as thou, who are nothing but a valiant voyce, but if thou shalt prouoke mee further, men shall say thou wert, and not lament it.

It is a place to which I must confesse, I owe a reuerence, but wert the Church at the high Altar, there's no place so safe, where thou darstiniurie me, but I dare kill thee: and for your greatnesse, know I can grasp you and your greatnesse, thus, thus, into nothing: giue not a word, not a word back, farewell.

'Tis an odd fellow Madame, wee must stop his mouth with some office when we are married.

You were best make him your Controuler.

I thinke he would discharge it well.

Madame, I hope our hearts are knit, but yet so slow, the cerimonies ofstate are, that twill bee long before our hearts bee so, then if you please being agreed in heart, let vs not waite for dreaming forme, but take a little stolne delights, and so preuent our ioyes to come.

If you dare speake your thoughts, I must with-draw in honour.

You trusted me vnknowne: and that which you were apt to conster: a simple innocence in me: perhaps might haue beene crafty: The cunning of a boy hardened in lyes: and theft: yet ventered you to part my miseries and me: For which I neuer can expect to serue a Lady: that beares more honour in her brest then you.

And bear'st a childish ouer-flowing loue, to them that claps thy cheekes, and speake thee faire: but when iudgement comes no rule those passions, thou wilt remember best those carefull friends, that pla'st thee in the noblest way of life: she is a Princesse I preferre thee to.

I neuer knewe a man hastie to part with a seruant he thought trusty. I remember my father would preferre the boyes he kept to greater men then he, but did it not till they were too sawcy for himselfe.

The loue of boyes vnto their Lords is strange, I haue read wonders ofit: yet this boy for my sake, if a man may iudge by looks and speech, would out doe story. I must see a day to pay him for his loyaltie.

Your grace.

Shall I not be a trouble?

Not to me sir.

Nay, nay, y'are too quicke by this sweete hand.

You'le bee forsworne sir, tis an olde gloue, if you will talke at distance I am for you, but good Prince be not baudy, nor doe not brag, those two I onely barre, and then I thinke I shall haue sence enough to answer all the waighty Apothegmes your royall bloud shal manage.

Deare Lady, can you loue?

Deare Prince, how deare? I ne're cost you a Couch yet, nor put you to the deare repentance of a play and a banquet, here's no Scarlet sir, to make you blush, this is my owne hayre, and this face has bin so farre from being deare to any, that it ne're cost a peny painting, and for the rest ofmy poore wardrop such as you see, it leaues no hand behind it, to make the iealous silke-mans wife curse our doing.

Lord I doe so, would you or I could helpe it.

Y'are very dangerous bitter, like a potion.

No sir, I do not mean to purge you, though I meane to purge a little time on you.

Do Ladies of this Countrey vse to giue no more respect to men of my full being.

Lady you talke of nothing all this time.

Tis very true sir, I talke ofyou.

What ha you there my Lord, gold? now as I liue tis faire gold, you'd haue siluer fort, to play with the Pages, you could not haue taken me in a worse time sir, but ifyou haue present vse my Lord, I'le send my man with siluer, and keepe your gold safe for you.

Lady, Lady.

If there be but two such in this Kingdome more, and neere the Court, we may ene hang vp our harpes, ten such Campher Constitutions as this would call the golden age againe in question, and teach the old way for euery ill fast husband, to get his owne children, and what a mischiefe that would breed, let all consider.

What would your grace talke of?

O delicate sweete Prince, shee that hath snow enough about her heart, to take the wanton spring of ten such lynes, it may bee a number without Probatum. Sir, you haue by such neate Poetrie gathered a kisse, that if I had but fiue lines of that number, such pretie begging blankes: I should commend your forehead, or your cheekes, and kisse you too.

I shall, I shall.

Loue you my Lord 〈…〉 ye?

Was it lie with you, that you said, tis impossible.

Has your grace seene the Court starre Gallatea.

How do you hold her wit?

Whether?

To your bed, ifyou mistrust my faith, you doe me the most vnnoblest wrong.

I dare not Prince.

My Lord, my chamber's most vncertaine, but when tis night i'le finde some meanes to slip into your lodging, till when

Till when, this and my heart go with thee.

Oh thou pernitious petticote Prince, are these your vertues, well, if I doe not iay a traine to blow your sport vp, I am no woman, and Lady Dowsabell, i'le fit you for it.

Where's the boy?

Within.

Gaue you him gold to buy him clothes?

I did.

And has he don't?

Yes Madam.

Tis a pretie sad talking boy, i'st not, askt you his name?

No Madame.

O, you are welcome, what good newes?

Hast thou discouered?

I haue straind a point of modesty for you.

I prethee how?

In listning after bawdry: I see, let a Lady liue neuer so modestly, they shall be sure to finde a lawfull time, to harken after bawdry, your Prince braue Pharamont was so hot ont.

With whom?

Why with the Lady I suspected, I can tell the time and place.

O when and where?

To night, his lodging.

Run thy selfe into the presents: mingle there againe with other Ladies, leaue the rest to me, if destinie to whom wee dare not say, why thou didst this, haue not decreed it so, in lasting leaues: whose smallest charecters was neuer altred, yet this match shall breake: wheres the boy.

Here Madame.

Madame, I haue not chang'd, I waite on you to doe him seruice.

Then trust in me, tell me thy name.

Bellario.

Thou canst sing and play.

If griefe will giue me leaue Madame, I can.

I know not Madame, what it is.

If it be loue to forget all respect to his owne friends, with thinking of your face: if it bee loue to sit crosse armde, and thinke away the day, with mingling starts, and crying your name as lowde as men in streetes doe fire: if it bee loue to weepe himselfe away, when hee but heares of any woman dead or kild, because it might haue bin your chance: ifwhen hee goes to rest, which will not bee, twixt euery praierhe saies, to name you once as others drop beades, be to be in loue, then Madame I dare sweare he loues yee.

Come Ladies, shal we talke a round, as men do walke a mile, women should talke an houre after supper, tis their exercise.

Tislate.

Tis all my eyes will doe to lead me to my bed.

I feare theyre so heauy youle scarce finde the way to your owne lodging with vm to night.

The Prince.

Not abed Ladyes, yare good sitters vp, what thinke you of a pleasing dreame to last till morning?

I shall chose my Lord a pleasing wake before it.

Yes madame.

Waite you there.

His forme is angel-like.

I finde no musicke in these boyes.

Serues he the Princesse?

Yes.

Tis a sweete boy, how braue she keepes him.

Yes, all good night.

Looke your intelligence be true.

Ypon my life it is, and I doe hope your Highnesse will not tie me to a man, that in the heate of woing, throwes me off, and takes another.

What should this meane?

If it be true, that Lady had beene better imbrast curelesse diseases: get you to your rest, you shalbe righted: Gentlemen draw neere, we shall imploy ye.

Is young Pharamont come to his lodging?

I saw him enter there.

Sir she parted hence but now with other Ladyes.

If shee bee there, we shall not neede to make a vaine discouerie of our suspition, you gods I see, that who vnrighteously holds wealth or state from others, shall be curst in that which meaner men are blest withall: Ages to come, shall know no male of him, left to inherit, and his name shalbe blotted from the earth, ifhee haue any child, it shalbe crosly matcht, the gods themselues shall sowe wild strife betwixt her Lord and her: yet if it be your wils forgiue the sinne I haue committed, let it not fall vpon this vndeseruing child, if she has not broke your lawes, but how could I looke to be heard of gods, that must be iust, praying vpon the ground, I hold in wrong.

Sir I haue askt, and her women sweare she is within, but they I thinke are baudes, I tolde vm I must speake with her, they laught, and said their Lady lay speechlesse: I said my businesse was important, they said their Lady was about it: I grew hot, and cried, my businesse was a matter that concern'd life and death, they answered so was sleeping, at which their Lady was: I vrg'd againe shee had scarce time to bee so, since last I saw her, they smilde againe, and seemde to instruct mee, that sleeping was nothing but lying downe and winking, answers more direct, I could not get from them, in short sir, shee's not there.

Tis then no time to dally, you a'the guard, wait at the backdoore of the Princes lodging, and see that none passe thence vpon your liues: Knock Gentlemen, knock lowde, what has your pleasure taken off your hearing: I'le breake your meditation, knock againe, and lowder, not yet, I do not thinke he sleepes, hauing such larumes by him, once more, Pharamont.

What sawcy groome knocks at this dead of night, where be our waiters, by my vexed soule he meetes his death, that meetes me for this boldnesse.

Prince, Prince, you wrong your thoughts, wee are your friends, come downe.

The king?

If your grace please to vse mee, i'le attend you to your chamber.

No, tis too late Prince, i'le make bold with yours.

Sir be resolued, I must come, and will come enter.

I will not be dishonoured thus, hee that enters, enters vpon his death, sir tis a signe you make no stranger of mee, to bring these runagates to my chamber, at these vnseasoned houres.

I so no.

I know their businesse, tis a poore breaking of a Ladies honour, they hunt so hotly after, let vm enioy it, you haue your businesse Gentlemen, I lay here, O my Lord the King, this is not noble in you, To make publicke the weakenesse of a woman.

Come downe.

I dare my Lord, your whoting and your clamours, your priuate whispers, and your broad fleerings, can no more vex my soule, then this base carriage: but I haue vengeance still in store for some, shall in the most contempt you can haue ofmee, bee ioy and nourishment.

Will you come downe?

Yes, to laugh at your worst, but I shall wring you, if my skill faile me not.

Get him another wench, and you bring him to bed indeed.

What boy is that she raues at?

Has she a boy?

So please your grace I haue seene a boy waite on her, a faire boy.

Do so, and i'le forget your —

Heere's a male spirit fit for Hercules.

if euer there be nine worthy of women, this wench shall ride aside and be their Captaine.

Nay, wee'le go wander with you.

And doubtlesse tis true.

Perhaps hee'le not bileeue.

Why Gentlemen, tis without question so.

We all are satisfied within our selues.

It will be best.

Twill moue him.

My worthy friends, you that can keepe your memories, to know your friend in miseries, and cannot frame on men disgrace for vertue, a good day attend you all, what seruice may I doe worthy your acceptation.

Why, what ofher?

Is loathed as much as he.

By what strange meanes?

Shee's knowne a whore.

Thou lyest!

My Lord —

This is most strange, sure he dos loue her.

I doe loue faire truth, she is my mistresse, & who iniuries her, drawes vengeance from me. Sirs, let goe my armes.

Nay, good my Lord be patient.

Sir, remember this is your honor'd friend, that comes to doe his seruice, and will shew you why he vttered this.

Should I haue heard dishonour spoke ofyou, behind your backs, vntruely, I had beene as much distempered and inrag'd, as now.

But this my Lord, is truth.

Good sir forbeare to say so, tis then truth that women all are false, vrge itno more, tis impossible, why should you thinke the Princesse light?

Why she was taken at it.

Why then it cannot be.

And she was taken with her boy.

What boy?

A Page, a boy that serues her.

Oh good gods, a little boy.

I, know you him my Lord?

If she were lustfull, would shee take a boy that knowes not yet desires, shee would haue one should meete her thoughts, and know the sinne sh e acts, which is the great delight of wickednesse, you are abus'd, and so is she and I.

How, you my Lord?

Why all the worlds abusd, in an vniust report.

Haue you knowne him so ill temper'd?

Neuer before.

Why my Lord, are you so mooued at this?

All the gods direct you the readiest way.

Why she dos tell me she will trust my youth with al her maiden store, and dos call mee her pretie seruant, bids mee weepe no more for leauing you, she'le see my seruice rewarded, & such words of that soft straine, that I am neerer weeping when she ends, then ere she speakes.

This is much better still.

Are you not well my Lord?

Ill, no Bellario.

Me thinkes your words fall out from your tongue, so vneuenly, nor is there in your looks that quicknesse that I was wont to see.

Thou art deceiued boy. And she strokes thy head.

Yes.

And she dos clap thy cheekes.

She dos my Lord.

And she dos kisse thee boy, ha.

How my Lord?

She kisses thee.

Neuer my Lord, by heauen.

That's strange, I know she dos.

No by my life.

Why then she dos not loue me,

Come she dos, I bid her do't: I charg'd her by all charmes of loue betweene vs, by the hope of peace wee should inioy, to yeeld thee all delight, naked as to her Lord. I tooke her oath thou shouldst inioy her. Tell mee gentle boy, is shee not paradise: is not her breath sweete as Arabian winds when fruites are ripe, are not her breasts two lickquid Iuory bals? is she not all a lasting mine of ioy?

Yes, now I see why my discurled thoughts were so perplext. When first I went to her my heart held augeries: you are abus'd, some villaine has abus'd you, I doe see where you tend. Fall rocks vpon his head, that put this to you, tis some subtile traine to bring that noble friend of yours to naught.

Thou thinkst I will bee angry with thee, come thou shalt know all my drift. I hate her more then I loue happinesse, and plac't thee there to pry with sparrowes eyes, into her deedes, hast thou discouered, is shee falne to lust, as I would wish her, speake some comfort to me.

Fear'st thou not death, can boyes contemne that.

O thou dost not know what tis to die.

If I be false, send mee to suffer in those punishments you speake of Kill me.

Oh! What should I doe, why who can but beleeue him?

Hee dos sweare so earnestly, that if it were not true, the gods would not indure him. Rise Bellario, thy protestaions are so deepe, and thou dost looke so truely when thou vtterest them, that though I knew vm false, as were my hopes, I cannot vrge thee further, but thou wert too blame to iniuie me: for I must loue thy honest lookes, and take no reuenge vpon thy honest lookes: a loue from mee to thee is firme, what ere thou dost, it troubles me, that I haue cald thy blood out of thy cheekes, that did so well become thee: But good boy let me not see thee more, something is done, that will distract me, that will make mee mad, if I behold thee, if thou tenderest mee, let me not see thee.

As there is morning, ere I giue distaste to that most honord frame, but through these teares shed at my haplesse parting, I can see a world of treason practis'd vpon you, and her, and me, farewell for euermore, if you shall heare that sorrowes strucke me dead, and after finde me loyall, let there be a teare shed from you, in my memory, and I shall rest at peace.

What, in your meditations, who attends you?

Tell me, haue you not a boy?

Yes Sir.

What kinde of boy?

A page, a waiting boy.

A hansome boy?

He speakes, and sings, and plaies?

Yes Sir.

About eighteene?

I neuer askt his age.

Is he full of seruice?

By your pardon, why do you aske?

Put him away.

Sir.

Good sir, let me vnderstand you?

Ifyou feare me, show it in duty? put away that boy.

Let me haue reason for it, and then your wil is a command.

What I haue done?

Whispers stirring, cast him off, and suddenly do it, farewell.

Peace to your fairest thoughts, deerest mistrisse.

He must be more then man that makes these christals runne into riuers, sweetest faire the cause, and as I am your slaue, tied to your goodnesse, your creature made againe from what I was, and newly spirited, I'le right your honour.

O my best loue, thatboy.

What boy?

The pretic boy you gaue me,

What of him?

Must be no more mine.

Why?

They are iealous of him.

Iealous, who?

The King.

Oh neuer, neuer, such a boy againe, as my Bellario.

Tis but your fond affection.

And all this passion for a boy.

O thou forgetfull woman.

How, my Lord?

Now you may take that little right I haue to this

Be mercifull you gods, and strike me dead.

You are clowdy sir. Come we haue forgotten your veniall trespasses, let not that sit heauy vpon your spirit,

Heres none dares vtter it.

He lookes like an olde surfeited stallion after his leaping, Dull as a Dormouse: see how he sinckes, the wench has shot him betweene wind and water, and I hope sprung a lake.

And for his horne, has left it at the lodge where he lay late: Oh hee's a pernitious limhound, turne him vpon the pursue of any Lady, and if hee lose her, hang him vp i'th slip: when my foxe bith bewty growes prowd, I'le borrow him.

Is your boy turnde away?

You did command sir, and I obeyed you.

Tis well done, harke ye furder.

Faith no great matter to speake of: a foolish twinckling with the eie, that spoyles her coat, but hee must be a cunning Herald that findes it.

See how they muster on another, O thers a ranke regient, where the diuell carries the Culours, and his damn'd drum maior. Now the flesh and the world come behinde with the Carriage.

To horse, to horse, we loose the morning Gentlemen.

What, haue you log'd the Deere below?

Yes, they are ready for the bow.

Who shoots?

The Princesse.

No, shee'le hunt.

Shee'le take a stand I say.

Who else?

Why the young strange Prince.

I neuer lou'd his beyond-sea-shippe, since he forsooke the Say, for paying ten shillings: he was there at the fall of a Deare, and would needes out ofhis Mightinesse, giue ten groates for the docets; mary his steward would haue the villuet head into the bargaine, to turfe his hat withall, I thinke he should loue venery: he and old Sir Tristrum: for ifye be remembred, hee forsooke a Stagge once, to strike a rascall milking in a meddow, and her hee kild i'the eye. Who shootes else?

The Lady Gallatea.

That's a good wench, an shee would not chide vs for tumbling of her women in the brakes, she's liberal, and by the gods, they say honest, and whether that be a fault or no, I haue nothing to do, there's all.

No, one more, Megra.

That's a firker I'faith boy, there's a wench will ride her hanches as hard after a kennell of hounds as a hunting sadle, & whē she comes home, get vm clapt, and all is well againe, I haue knowne her lose her selfe three times in one after-noone, if the Woods had beene answerable, and has bin worke enough for one man to finde her, and has swet for't: shee rides well, and shee payes well, harke else.

Is there a creature yet so miserable that I can pittie?

This is the strangest sodaine chance, you Wood-man.

My Lord Leon —

Saw you a Lady come this way, on a sable horse, starredyed with stars of white?

Was she not young and tall?

Yes, rode she to the wood, or to the plaine?

Faith my Lord, we saw none.

Pox ofyour questions then: What, is she found?

Nor will be, I thinke.

Where is she?

Sir, I cannot tell.

Howe's that? answere me so againe.

Sir, shall I lie?

Sir, I doe not know.

Speake that againe so boldly, and by heauen it is thy last. You fellowes, answere me, where is shee? marke mee all, I am your king, I wish to see my daughter, shew her mee, I doe command you all, as you are subiects, to shew her mee: what, am I not your king, if I, why then, am I not to be obay'd?

Yes, if you command things possible, and honest.

You haue betrayed me, you haue let me loose the Iewell of my life, goe bring her mee, and set her here before mee, tis the king will haue it so, whose breath can still the winds, vnclowd the Sun, charme downe the swelling sea, and stoppe the Flouds of heauen: speake, can it not?

No.

No, cannot the breath of a king do this?

No more smell sweete it selfe, if once the lungs bee but corrupted.

Take you heed?

He articles with the gods, would some body would draw bonds, for the performance of couenant betwixt them.

What, is she found?

No, we haue tane her horse, hee gallopt empty by, there's some treason: you Gallatea rode into the Wood with her, Why left you her?

She did command me.

Command, you should not.

If I haue her not, by this sword, there shall bee no more Cycele.

What, will he carry it to Spaine in's pockets?

Yes, you may do well to leaue your Lady bedfellow here for a spincer.

I see the iniuries I haue done, must be reueng'd.

Sir, this is not the way to finde her out.

Run all, disperse your selues, the man that findes her, or if shee be kild, the traytor, I'le make him great.

I, some would giue fiue thousand pounds to finde her.

Come, let vs seeke.

Each man a seuerall way, here I my selfe.

Come Gentlemen, we heere.

Lady, you must go search too.

I had rather be the search my selfe.

Where am I now, feete finde out the way, without the counsell of my troubled head, I'le follow you boldly about these woods, or mountaines, through brambles, pits and fluds; Heauen I hope will ease me, I am sicke.

Yonder my Lady is, gods knowes, I want nothing, because I do not wish to liue, yet I will trie her charity. O heare you, that haue plenty from that flowing store, drop some on dry grounds, see the liuely red is gone to guard her heart: I feare she faints, Madame, looke vp: shee breathes not; open once those rosie twines, and send vnto my Lord your latest farewell: O shee stirs; How i'st Madame? speake comfort.

Tis not gentlie done to put mee in a miserable life, and hold me there, I prethee let me goe, I shall do best without thee.

You gods, good gods, tempt not a fraile man, who's hee that has a heart, but he must ease it with his tongue.

My Lord, helpe, helpe the Princesse.

I am well, forbeare.

Deare Phylaster, leaue to inrage, and heare me.

You will not kill me then?

Kill you,

Not for the world.

Or worse wil follow, we are two, earth cannot beare at once, resolue to do or suffer.

Yet tell me this, there will be no slanders, no iealousie, in the other world no il here?

No.

Shew me the way to ioy.

Theres a Courtier with his sword drawne, by this hand vpon a woman, I thinke.

Are you at peace?

wounds her.

With heauen and earth.

Nay, they diuide thy soule and body.

Hold dastard, strike a woman, th'art a crauen, I warrant thee, thoud'st be loth to play halfe a dozen veneis at wasters with a man for a broken head.

Leaue vs good friend.

What ill bred man art thou, to intrude thy selfe vpon our priuate sports, our recreations.

Pursue thy owne affaires, it will be ill to multiply blood vpon my head, which thou wilt force me to.

I know not your Rethrack, but I can lay it on if you touch the woman.

Gods guard my Lord.

O, do you breath?

I heare the tread of people, I am hurt, the gods take part against me, would this bore haue held me thus else: I must shift for life, though I doe lose it, I would finde a course,

To lose it rather by my will, then force.

What art thou.

He has not hurt me.

By god she lies, has hurt her i'the breast, looke else.

Oh secret spring ofinnocent blood.

Tis aboue wonder, who should dare this.

I felt it not.

Speake villaine, who has hurt the Princesse?

Is it the Princesse?

I.

Then I haue seene something yet.

But who has done it?

I told you a rogue, I ne're saw him before, I.

Madame, who did it?

He's hurt too, he cannot go farre, I let my fathers old fox flie about's eares.

How, will you haue me kill him?

Not at all, tis some distracted fellow.

By this ayre, i'le leaue neuer a piece bigger then a nut, and bring him all in my hat.

Nay, good sir, if you do take him, bring him quick to mee, and I will study for a punishment great as his sinne.

I will.

But sweare.

By all my Loue, I will: Wood-man, conduct the Princesse vnto the king, and beare that wounded fellow to dressing: Come Gentlemen, wee'le follow the chase close.

I pray you friend, let me see the king.

That you shall, and receiue thankes.

If I get cleere of this, I'le see no more gay fights,

Hide, hide my Lord, and saue your selfe.

How is this? wouldst thou I should be safe?

Art thou then true to me?

Shift for my selfe: Well, peace, I heare vm come.

Follow, follow, that way they went.

To this place I tract him by his blood.

Yonder my Lord, creepes one away.

Stay sir, what are you?

O thou damn'd in thy creation, what cause couldst thou shape to strike the Princesse?

Betrayd, no, apprehended.

I will know who hir'd thee to this deed.

My owne reuenge.

Reuenge, for what?

Helpe to leade him hence.

Who's that?

My Lord Phylaster.

How's this?

My Lord, some man weary oflife that would be glad to dy.

Leaue this vntimely courtesie Bellario.

Alas, he's mad, come, will you beare me hence?

Thy owne tongue be thy Iudge.

It was Phylaster.

Haue I no friend here?

Yes.

Then shew it some good body, lend a hand to draw vs neerer: Would you haue teares shed for you, when you die? then lay me gentlie on his neck, that there I may weep flouds, and breath forth my spirit. Not all the wealth of Pluto, nor the gold locked in the heart of earth, can buy away this 〈◊〉 from me; this had beene a ransome to haue redeem'd the 〈◊〉 〈◊◊〉 , had hee beene taken; you hard-hearted men, more stony then these Mountaines, can you see such a cleere pure bloud drop, and not cut your flesh to stop his life, to binde whose bitter wounds, Queenes ought to teare their haires, and with their teares bathe them: forgiue me thou that art the wealth of poore Phylaster,

Is the villaine tane?

Sir, here be two confesse the deed, but sute it was Phylaster.

Question it no more, it was.

The fellow that did fight with him, will tell vs that.

Ay me, I know him well.

Did not you know him?

Sir, if it were he, he was disguis'd.

I was so: Oh wy starres, that I should liue still.

Sir, they did plot together, to take hence this harmelesse life, should it passe vnreuengd, I should to earth, weeping. Grant mee then, by all the loues a father beares his child, their custodies, that I may appoint their tortures, and their deathes.

Death, soft your law will not reach that for this fault.

I pray that this actionloose not Phylastor the hearts of the people.

Has the king sent for him to death?

Yes, but the king must know, 'tis not in his powor to warre with heauen.

We linger time, the king sent for Phylastor, and the headsman, an houre agoe.

Are all his wounds well?

All, they were but scrarches, but the losse of blood made him faint.

We dally Gentlemen.

Away.

Wee'le shufle hard before he perish.

Nay, faith Phylaster, grieue not, we are well.

Nay, good my Lord forbeare, we are wondrous well.

Make me not hated so.

Come from this prison, all ioyfull to our deaths.

A peece of you, he was not borne of woman, that can cut it, and looke on.

Why? tis well.

Lament no more.

Why, if it were?

Then sir we would haue askt you pardon.

And haue hope to inioy it.

Inioy it, I.

Would you indeed? be plaine.

We would my Lord.

Forgiue me then.

So, so.

Tis as it should be now.

Leade to my death.

Gentlemen, who saw the Prince?

Is the Princesse ready to bring her prisoner out?

She waites your grace.

Tell her we stay.

How now, what maske is this?

I shal sing you an Epethelamon, but hauing lost my best aires with my fortunes, and wanting a celestiall harpe to strike this blessed vnyon; thus in glad story I giue you all these two faire Caedor branches. The noblest of the mountaines where they grew, straightest and tallest, vnder whose still shades, the worthier beasts haue made their layers, and slept free from the firuer of the Serian starre, and the fell thunder-stroke, free from the Clouds, when they were big with humour, and deliuer in thousand spouts, that issues to the earth: O there was none but silent quiet there, till neuer-pleased fortune shot vp shrubs base vnder branches, to deuour these branches, and for a while they did so, and did raigne ouer the Mountaine, and did choake vp his beauty with brakes, rud, thornes and thistles, till the Sunne scorcht them to the roote, and dride vm there, and now a gentle gaile has blowne againe, that made these branches meete and twine together, neuer to be vnarmde: The god that sings his Number ore marriage beds, has knit their noble hearts, and heere they stand, your children, worthy king, and I haue done.

How, how?

Sir, if you loue it in plaine truth, for now there is no masking in't, this gentleman the prisoner that you gaue mee, is become my keeper.

And through all the bitter threats, your Iealousies, and his il fate, haue wrought him, thus nobly hath hee strugled, and at length arriued here:

My deere husband.

Your deere husband. Call in the Captaine of the Citadell, where you shall keepe your wedding, I'le prouide a maske shall make your Hymen turne his saffron into a sullen coate, and sing sad requiems to your departing soules, blood shal put out your torches, and insteed of gawdy flowers about your wanton necks, an Axe shall hang, like a prodigious Metour, ready to crop your loues sweetes. Heare you gods: From this time do I shake all title off of father to this woman, this base woman, and what there is of vengein a Lyon chaft amongst dogs, or rob'd of his deere young, the same inforc't more terrible, more mighty, looke from me.

Where's the King?

Heere.

O braue fellowes; Mureny my fine deere countrimen, Muteny. Now my braue valiant formen, show your weapons In honour of your Mistresses.

Arme, arme, arme.

A thousand diuels take these Citizens.

A thousand blessings on them.

The Citie vp, this was aboue our wishes.

I, and the marriage too, by al the gods, this noble Lady has deceiued vs all, a plague vpon my selfe, a thousand plagues, for hauing such vnworthy thoughts of her deare Honor: O, I could beat my selfe, or doe you beat mee, and I'le beat you, for wee had all one thought.

No, no, 'twill but lose time.

What if a toy take vm i'ch hee les now, and they run all away, and cry, the diuell take the hindmost.

Then the same diuell take the formost too, and sawce him for his breakefast, if they all prooue cowards, my curses flush amongst vm, and ill speeding: may they haue iniurious raine to keepe the Gentlemen at home in rasine freeze, may the moth branch their veluets, and their silkes onely bee worne before sore eies, may their false lights vndoe vm, and discouer preases, holes, staines, and oldnesse in their stuffes, and make them shop-rid, may they keepe whoores, and horses, and breake, and liue mued vp with necks ofbeefe and turnups; May they haue many children, and none like the father, and know no language but that gibberish they pratle to their parsels, vnlesse it be the gotish latine they write in their bonds, and may they write that false, and lose their debts.

What they wil do with that poore Prince, the gods know, I feare.

Why, they'le flea him, and make Church buckets on's skin, to qucnch rebellion, then clap a reuit in's sconce, and hang him vp for a signe.

Let your owne word free her.

Now all the gods go with thee.

Come my braue Mermedons, fal on, letyour caps swarm, & your nimble tongues forget your gibrish, of what you lack, and set your mouthes ope' children, till your pallats fall frighted halfe a fathom past the cure of bay-salt & grosse pepper; and then crie Phylaster, braue Phylaster. Let Phylaster be deep in request, my ding-adings, mypaire of deare Indentures: King of clubs, thē your cut-water-chamlets, and your painting: let not your hasty silkes, deerly belouers of Custards & Cheescakes, or your branch cloth of bodkins, or your tyffenies, your robbin-hood scarlet and Iohns, tie your affections in durance to your shops, my dainty duckers, vp with your three pil'd spirits, that rightvalourous, and let your accute colours make the King to feele the measure of your mightinesse; Phylaster, cry, myrose nobles, cry.

Phylaster, Phylaster.

Why, you damn'd slaues, doe you know who I am?

Yes, my pretie Prince of puppits, we do know, and giue you gentle warning, you talke no more such bugs words, lest that sodden Crowne should be scracht with a musket; deare Prince pippin, I'le haue you codled, let him loose my spirits, and make a ring with your bils my hearts: Now let mee see what this braue man dares doe: note sir, haue at you with this washing blow, here I lie, doe you huffe sweete Prince? I could hock your grace, and hang you crosse leg'd, like a Hare at a Poulters stall; and do thus.

Gentlemen, honest Gentlemen —

A speakes treason Captaine, shal's knock him downe?

Hold, I say.

Good Captaine let me haue one mal at's mazard, I feele my stomacke strangely prouoked to bee at his Spanish pot-nowle, shal's kill him?

I, kill him, kill him.

Againe I say hold.

O how ranke he lookes, sweete Captaine let's geld him, and send his dowsets for a dish to the Burdello.

No, let's rather sell them to some woman Chymist, that extractions, shee might draw an excellent prouocatiue oyle from vseth them, that might be very vsefull.

You see, my scuruy Don, how precious you are in esteem amongst vs, had you not beene better kept at home, I thinke you had: must you needes come amongst vs, to haue your saffron hide taw'd as wee intend it: My Don, Phylaster must suffer death to satisfie your melancholly spleene, he must my Don, he must; but we your Physitians, hold it fit that you bleede for it: Come my robusticks, my braue regiment of rattle makers, let's cal a common cornuted counsell, and like graue Senators, beare vp our brancht crests, in sitting vpon the seuerall tortures we shall put him to, and with as little sense as may be, put your wils in execucion.

Burne him, burne him.

Hang him, hang him.

No, rather let's carbinade his cods-head, and cut him to collops: shall I begin?

Stay your furies my louing Countrimen.

Phylaster is come, Phylaster, Phylaster.

My poroupines of spite, make roome I say, that I may salute my braue Prince: and is Prince Phylaster at liberty?

Then giue me thy Princely goll, which thus I kisse, to whom I crouch and bow; But see my royall sparke, this head-strong swarme that follow me humming like a master Bee, haue I led forth their Hiues, and being on wing, and in our heady flight, haue seazed him shall suffer for thy wrongs.

I, I, let's kill him, kill him.

But heare me, Countrimen.

Heare the Prince, I say, heare Phylaster.

I, I, heare the Prince, heare the Prince.

My comming is to giue you thankes, my deere Countrimen, whose powerfull sway hath curb'd the prossecuting fury of my foes.

We will curb vm, we will curb vm.

Take him to thee braue Prince, and we thy bounty thankefully accept, and will drinke thy health, thy perpetuall health my Prince, whilst memory lasts amongst vs, we are thy Mermidons, my Achillis: we are those will follow thee, and in thy seruice will scowre our rusty murins and our bill-bow-blades, most noble Phylaster, we will: Come my rowtists let's retyer till occasion calls vs to attend the nohle Phylaster.

Phylaster, Phylaster, Phylaster.

I euer thought the boy was honest.

Yet you'ld not beleeue this.

A plague on my forwardnesse, what a villaine was I, to wrong vm so; a mischiefe on my muddy braines, was I mad?

A little frantick in your rash attempt, but that was your loue to Phylaster, sir.

A pox on such loue, haue you any hope my countinance will ere serue me to looke on them?

O very well Sir.

Very ill Sir, vds death, I could beate out my braines, or hang my selfe in reuenge.

There would be little gotten by it, ene keepe you as ye are.

An excellent boy, Gentlemen beleeue it, harke the King is comming,

See Sir, Phylaster is return'd.

How happie am I in thee Phylaster?

How Sir, yer son, what am I then, your Daughter you gaue to me.

They are married sir.

How married? I hope your highnesse will not vse me so, I came not to be disgraced, and returne alone.

I cannot helpe it sir.

I should know this face; my daughter.

The same sir.

How, our sometime Page, Bellario, turn'd woman?

I doe beleeue thee, Bellario I shall call thee still.

The faithfullest seruant that euer gaue attendance.

Heres such an age of transformation, that I doe not know how to trust my selfe, I'le get me gone to: Sir, the disparagement you haue done, must be cald in question. I haue power to right my selfe, and will.

We feare ye not sir.

Tis my sute too.

Such royall spokes-men must not be deni'd.

Nor shall not, Madame.

Then thus I ioyne your hands.

Our hearts were knit before.