Front matter (continued 2)

Pha. How will you have me kill him?

Are. Not at all, 'tis some distracted fellow.

Pha. By this hand, I'le leave ne'er a piece of him bigger than a Nut, and bring him all in my Hat.

Are. Nay, good Sir; 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 to dressing: Come Gentlemen, we'l follow the chase close.

[Ex. Are. Pha. Di. Cle. Thra. and 1 Woodman.

Coun. I pray you friend let me see the King.

2 Wood.That you shall, and receive thanks.

[Exeunt.

Coun. If I get clear with this, I'le go see no more gay sights.

Enter Bellario.

Bell. 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 could wish I rather were a Coarse strewed o're 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, To strike at her, that would not strike at me: When I did fight, me thought I heard her pray The gods to guard me. She may be abus'd, And I a loathed villain: if she be, She will conceal who hurt her; He 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

[Cry within.

Should be so sound, and mine, whom thou hast wrong'd, So broken: Hark I am pursued: you gods I'le take this offer'd means of my escape: They have no mark to know me, but my wounds, If she be true; if false, let mischief light On all the world at once. Sword, print my wounds Upon this sleeping boy: I ha' none I think Are mortal, nor would I lay greater on thee.

[Wounds him.

Bell. Oh death I hope is come, blest be that hand, It meant me well; again, for pities sake.

Phi. I have caught my self,

[Phi. falls.

The loss of bloud hath stayed my flight. Here, here, Is he that stroke thee: take thy full revenge, Use me, as I did mean thee, worse than death: I'le teach thee to revenge this luckless hand Wounded the Princess, tell my followers Thou didst receive these hurts in staying me, And I will second thee: Get a reward.

Bell. Fly, fly my Lord and save your self.

Phi. How's this? Wouldst thou I should be safe?

Bell. Else it were vain For me to live. These little wounds I have, Ha' not bled much, reach me that noble hand, I'le help to cover you.

Phi. Art thou true to me?

Bell. 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. Then I shall die for grief, if not for this, That I have wounded thee: what wilt thou do?

Bell. Shift for my self well: peace, I hear 'em come.

Within. Follow, follow, follow; that way they went.

Bell. With my own wounds I'le bloudy my own sword. I need not counterfeit to fall; Heaven knows, That I can stand no longer.

Enter Pha. Dion, Cle. and Thra.

Pha. To this place we have tract him by his bloud.

Cle. Yonder, my Lord, creeps one away.

Di. Stay Sir, what are you?

Bell. A wretched creature wounded in these Woods By Beasts; relieve me, if your names be men, Or I shall perish.

Di. This is he my Lord, Upon my soul that hurt 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?

Bell. Then I am betrayed.

Di. Betrayed! no, apprehended.

Bell. I confess; Urge it no more, that big with evil thoughts I set upon her, and did take 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?

Bell. Mine own revenge.

Pha. Revenge, for what?

Bell. It pleas'd her to receive Me as her Page, and when my fortunes ebb'd, That men strid o're them carelesly, she did showr 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 bestowed, 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, resolve to feel The utmost rigour.

[Philaster creeps out of a bush.

Cle. Help to lead him hence.

Phi. Turn back you ravishers of Innocence, Know ye the price of that you bear away so rudely?

Pha. Who's that?

Di. '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 vertue. It was I that hurt 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?

Bell. My Lord, some man Weary of life, that would be glad to die.

Phi. Leave these untimely courtesies Bellario.

Bell. 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 toucht her not. Take heed Bellario, How thou dost drown the vertues 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.

Di. Is't not a brave boy? Well Sirs, I fear we were all deceived.

Phi. Have I no friend here?

Di. 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 gentle on his neck that there I may weep flouds, and breath out my spirit: 'Tis not the wealth of Plutus, nor the gold Lockt in the heart of earth, can buy away This arm-full from me, this had been a ransom To have redeem'd the great Augustus Caesar, Had he been taken: you hard-hearted men, More stony than these Mountains, can you see Such clear pure bloud drop, and not cut your flesh To stop his life? To bind whose better wounds, Queens ought to tear their hair, and with their tears, Bath 'em. Forgive me, thou that art the wealth of poor Philaster.

[Enter King, Arethusa and a Guard.

King. Is the villain ta'ne?

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. Ay me, I know he will.

King. Did not you know him?

Are. 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'le 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) Their custodies, and that I may appoint Their tortures and their death.

Di. Death? soft, our Law will not reach that, for this fault.

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.

Cle. I pray that this action lose not Philaster the hearts of the people.

Di. Fear it not, their overwise heads will think it but a trick.

[Exeunt Omnes.

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Dion, Cleremont, and Thrasiline.

Thra. Has the King sent for him to death?

Di. Yes, but the King must know, 'tis not in his power to war with Heaven.

Cle. We linger time; the King sent for Philaster and the Headsman an hour ago.

Thra. Are all his wounds well?

Di. All they were but scratches; but the loss of bloud made him faint.

Cle. We dally Gentlemen.

Thra. Away.

Di. We'l scuffle hard before he perish.

[Exeunt.

Enter Philaster, Arethusa, and Bellario.

Are. Nay dear Philaster grieve not, we are well.

Bell. Nay good my Lord forbear, we are wondrous well.

Phi. Oh Arethusa! O Bellario! leave to be kind: I shall be shot from Heaven, as now from Earth, If you continue so; I am a man, False to a pair of the most trusty ones That ever earth bore, can it bear us all? Forgive and leave me, but the King hath sent To call me to my death, Oh shew it me, And then forget me: And for thee my boy, I shall deliver words will mollifie The hearts of beasts, to spare thy innocence.

Bell. Alas my Lord, my life is not a thing Worthy your noble thoughts; 'tis not a life, 'Tis but a piece of child-hood thrown away: Should I out-live, I shall then out-live Vertue and honour. And when that day comes, If ever I should close these eyes but once, May I live spotted for my perjury, And waste my limbs to nothing.

Are. And I (the woful'st maid as ever was, Forc'd with my hands to bring my Lord to death) Do by the honour of a Virgin swear, To tell no hours beyond it.

Phi. Make me not hated so.

Are. Come from this prison, all joyful to our deaths.

Phi. People will tear me when they find you true To such a wretch as I; I shall die loath'd. Injoy your Kingdoms peaceably, whil'st I For ever sleep forgotten with my faults, Every just servant, every maid in love Will have a piece of me if you be true.

Are. My dear Lord say not so.

Bell. A piece of you? He was not born of women that can cut it and look on.

Phi. Take me in tears betwixt you, For my heart will break with shame and sorrow.

Are. Why 'tis well.

Bell. Lament no more.

Phi. What would you have done If you had wrong'd me basely, and had found My life no price, compar'd to yours? For love Sirs, Deal with me truly.

Bell. 'Twas mistaken, Sir.

Phi. Why if it were?

Bell. Then Sir we would have ask'd you pardon.

Phi. And have hope to enjoy it?

Are. Injoy it? I.

Phi. Would you indeed? be plain.

Bell. We would my Lord.

Phi. Forgive me then.

Are. So, so.

Bell. 'Tis as it should be now.

Phi. Lead to my death.

[Exeunt.

Enter King, Dion, Cleremont, and Thrasiline.

King. Gentlemen, who saw the Prince?

Cle. So please you Sir, he's gone to see the City, And the new Platform, with some Gentlemen Attending on him.

King. Is the Princess ready To bring her prisoner out?

Thra. She waits your Grace.

King. Tell her we stay.

Di. King, you may be deceiv'd yet: The head you aim at cost more setting on Than to be lost so slightly: If it must off Like a wild overflow, that soops before him A golden Stack, and with it shakes down Bridges, Cracks the strong hearts of Pines, whose Cable roots Held out a thousand Storms, a thousand Thunders, And so made mightier, takes whole Villages Upon his back, and in that heat of pride, Charges strong Towns, Towers, Castles, Palaces, And layes them desolate: so shall thy head, Thy noble head, bury the lives of thousands That must bleed with thee like a sacrifice, In thy red ruines.

Enter Phil. Are. and Bell, in a Robe and Garland.

King. How now, what Mask is this?

Bell. Right Royal Sir, I should Sing you an Epithalamium of these lovers, But having lost my best ayres with my fortunes, And wanting a celestial Harp to strike This blessed union on; thus in glad story I give you all. These two fair Cedar-branches, The noblest of the Mountain, where they grew Straightest and tallest, under whose still shades The worthier beasts have made their layers, and slept Free from the Syrian Star, and the fell Thunder-stroke, Free from the Clouds, when they were big with humour, And delivered in thousand spouts, their issues to the earth: O there was none but silent quiet there! Till never pleas'd fortune shot up shrubs, Base under brambles to divorce these branches; And for a while they did so, and did raign Over the Mountain, and choakt up his beauty With Brakes, rude Thornes and Thistles, till thy Sun Scorcht them even to the roots, and dried them there: And now a gentle gale hath blown again That made these branches meet, and twine together, Never to be divided: The god that sings His holy numbers over marriage beds, Hath knit their noble hearts, and here they stand Your Children mighty King, and I have done.

King. How, how?

Are. Sir, if you love it in plain truth, For there is no Masking in't; This Gentleman The prisoner that you gave me is become My keeper, and through all the bitter throws Your jealousies and his ill fate have wrought him, Thus nobly hath he strangled, and at length Arriv'd here my dear Husband.

King. Your dear Husband! call in The Captain of the Cittadel; There you shall keep Your Wedding. I'le provide a Mask shall make Your Hymen turn his Saffron into a sullen Coat, And sing sad Requiems to your departing souls: Bloud shall put out your Torches, and instead Of gaudy flowers about your wanton necks, An Ax shall hang like a prodigious Meteor Ready to crop your loves sweets. Hear you gods: From this time do I shake all title off, Of Father to this woman, this base woman, And what there is of vengeance, in a Lion Cast amongst Dogs, or rob'd of his dear young, The same inforc't more terrible, more mighty, Expect from me.

Are. Sir, By that little life I have left to swear by, There's nothing that can stir me from my self. What I have done, I have done without repentance, For death can be no Bug-bear unto me, So long as Pharamond is not my headsman.

Di. Sweet peace upon thy soul, thou worthy maid When ere thou dyest; for this time I'le excuse thee, Or be thy Prologue.

Phi. Sir, let me speak next, And let my dying words be better with you Than my dull living actions; if you aime At the dear life of this sweet Innocent, Y'are a Tyrant and a savage Monster; Your memory shall be as foul behind you As you are living, all your better deeds Shall be in water writ, but this in Marble: No Chronicle shall speak you, though your own, But for the shame of men. No Monument (Though high and big as Pelion) shall be able To cover this base murther; make it rich With Brass, with purest Gold, and shining Jasper, Like the Pyramids, lay on Epitaphs, Such as make great men gods; my little marble (That only cloaths my ashes, not my faults) Shall far out shine it: And for after issues Think not so madly of the heavenly wisdoms, That they will give you more, for your mad rage To cut off, unless it be some Snake, or something Like your self, that in his birth shall strangle you. Remember, my Father King; there was a fault, But I forgive it: let that sin perswade you To love this Lady. If you have a soul, Think, save her, and be saved, for my self, I have so long expected this glad hour, So languisht under you, and daily withered, That heaven knows it is my joy to dye, I find a recreation in't.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Where's the King?

King. Here.

Mess. Get you to your strength, And rescue the Prince Pharamond from danger, He's taken prisoner by the Citizens, Fearing the Lord Philaster.

Di. Oh brave followers; Mutiny, my fine dear Country-men, mutiny, Now my brave valiant foremen, shew your weapons In honour of your Mistresses.

[Enter another Messenger.

Mess. Arm, arm, arm.

King. A thousand devils take 'em.

Di. A thousand blessings on 'em.

Mess. Arm O King, the City is in mutiny, Led by an old Gray Ruffin, who comes on In rescue of the Lord Philaster.

[Exit with Are. Phi. Bell.

King. Away to the Cittadel, I'le see them safe, And then cope with these Burgers: Let the Guard And all the Gentlemen give strong attendance.

[Ex. King.

[Manent Dion, Cleremont, Thrasiline.

Cle. The City up! this was above our wishes.

Di. I and the Marriage too; by my life, This noble Lady has deceiv'd us all, a plague upon my self; a thousand plagues, for having such unworthy thoughts of her dear honour: O I could beat my self, or do you beat me and I'le beat you, for we had all one thought.

Cle. No, no, 'twill but lose time.

Di. You say true, are your swords sharp? Well my dear Country-men, what ye lack, if you continue and fall not back upon the first broken shin, I'le have you chronicled, and chronicled, and cut and chronicled and all to be prais'd, and sung in Sonnets, and bath'd in new brave Ballads, that all tongues shall troule you in Saecula Saeculorum my kind Can-carriers.

Thra. What if a toy take 'em i'th' heels now, and they run all away, and cry the Devil take the hindmost?

Di. Then the same Devil take the foremost too, and sowce him for his breakfast; if they all prove Cowards, my curses fly amongst them and be speeding. May they have Murreins raign to keep the Gentlemen at home unbound in easie freeze: May the Moths branch their Velvets, and their Silks only be worn before sore eyes. May their false lights undo 'em, and discover presses, holes, stains, and oldness in their Stuffs, and make them shop-rid: May they keep Whores and Horses, and break; and live mued up with necks of Beef and Turnips: May they have many children, and none like the Father: May they know no language but that gibberish they prattle to their Parcels, unless it be the goarish Latine they write in their bonds, and may they write that false, and lose their debts.

Enter the King.

King. Now the vengeance of all the gods confound them; how they swarm together! what a hum they raise; Devils choak your wilde throats; If a man had need to use their valours, he must pay a Brokage for it, and then bring 'em on, they will fight like sheep. 'Tis Philaster, none but Philaster must allay this heat: They will not hear me speak, but fling dirt at me, and call me Tyrant. Oh run dear friend, and bring the Lord Philaster: speak him fair, call him Prince, do him all the courtesie you can, commend me to him. Oh my wits, my wits!

[Exit Cle.

Di. Oh my brave Countrymen! as I live, I will not buy a pin out of your walls for this; Nay, you shall cozen me, and I'le thank you; and send you Brawn and Bacon, and soil you every long vacation a brace of foremen, that at Michaelmas shall come up fat and kicking.

King. What they will do with this poor Prince, the gods know, and I fear.

Di. Why Sir: they'l flea him, and make Church Buckets on's skin to squench rebellion, then clap a rivet in's sconce, and hang him up for a sign.

Enter Cleremont with Philaster.

King. O worthy Sir forgive me, do not make Your miseries and my faults meet together, To bring a greater danger. Be your self, Still sound amongst Diseases, I have wrong'd you, And though I find it last, and beaten to it, Let first your goodness know it. Calm the people, And be what you were born to: take your love, And with her my repentance, and my wishes, And all my prayers, by the gods my heart speaks this: And if the least fall from me not perform'd, May I be struck with Thunder.

Phi. Mighty Sir, I will not do your greatness so much wrong, As not to make your word truth; free the Princess, And the poor boy, and let me stand the shock Of this mad Sea breach, which I'le either turn Or perish with it.

King. Let your own word free them.

Phi. Then thus I take my leave kissing your hand, And hanging on your Royal word: be Kingly, And be not moved Sir, I shall bring your peace, Or never bring my self back.

King. All the gods go with thee.

[Exeunt Omnes.

Enter an old Captain and Citizens with Pharamond.

Cap. Come my brave Mirmidons let's fall on, let our caps Swarm my boys, and you nimble tongues forget your mothers Gibberish, of what do you lack, and set your mouths Up Children, till your Pallats fall frighted half a Fathom, past the cure of Bay-salt and gross Pepper. And then cry Philaster, brave Philaster, Let Philaster be deeper in request, my ding-dongs, My pairs of dear Indentures, King of Clubs, Than your cold water Chamblets or your paintings Spitted with Copper; let not your hasty Silks, Or your branch'd Cloth of Bodkin, or your Tishues, Dearly belov'd of spiced Cake and Custard, Your Robin-hoods scarlets and Johns, tie your affections In darkness to your shops; no, dainty Duckers, Up with your three pil'd spirits, your wrought valours. And let your un-cut Coller make the King feel The measure of your mightiness Philaster. Cry my Rose nobles, cry.

All. Philaster, Philaster.

Cap. How do you like this my Lord Prince, these are mad boys, I tell you, these are things that will not strike their top-sayles to a Foist. And let a man of war, an Argosie hull and cry Cockles.

Pha. Why you rude slave, do you know what you do?

Cap. My Pretty Prince of Puppets, we do know, And give your greatness warning, that you talk No more such Bugs-words, or that soldred Crown Shall be scratch'd with a Musket: Dear Prince Pippen, Down with your noble bloud; or as I live, I'le have you codled: let him lose my spirits, Make us a round Ring with your Bills my Hectors, And let us see what this trim man dares do. Now Sir, have at you; here I [lie], And with this swashing blow, do you swear Prince; I could hulk your Grace, and hang you up cross-leg'd, Like a Hare at a Poulters, and do this with this wiper.

Pha. You will not see me murder'd wicked Villains?

1 Cit. Yes indeed will we Sir, we have not seen one fo[r] a great while.

Capt. He would have weapons would he? give him a Broad-side my brave boyes with your pikes, branch me his skin in Flowers like a Satin, and between every Flower a mortal cut, your Royalty shall ravel, jag him Gentlemen, I'le have him cut to the kell, then down the seames, oh for a whip To make him Galoone-Laces, I'le have a Coach-whip.

Pha. O spare me Gentlemen.

Cap. Hold, hold, the man begins to fear and know himself, He shall for this time only be seal'd up With a Feather through his nose, that he may only see Heaven, and think whither he's going, Nay beyond-Sea Sir, we will proclaim you, you would be King Thou tender Heir apparent to a Church-Ale, Thou sleight Prince of single Sarcenet; Thou Royal Ring-tail, fit to fly at nothing But poor mens Poultry, and have every Boy Beat thee from that too with his Bread and Butter.

Pha. Gods keep me from these Hell-hounds.

2 Cit. Shall's geld him Captain?

Cap. No, you shall spare his dowcets my dear Donsels, As you respect the Ladies let them flourish; The curses of a longing woman kill as speedy as a Plague, Boys.

1 Cit. I'le have a Leg that's certain.

2 Cit. I'le have an Arm.

3 Cit. I'le have his Nose, and at mine own charge build a Colledge, and clap't upon the Gate.

4 Cit. I'le have his little Gut to string a Kit with, For certainly a Royal Gut will sound like silver.

Pha. Would they were in thy belly, and I past my pain once.

5 Cit. Good Captain let me have his Liver to feed Ferrets.

Cap. Who will have parcels else? speak.

Pha. Good gods consider me, I shall be tortur'd.

1 Cit. Captain, I'le give you the trimming of your hand-sword, and let me have his Skin to make false Scabbards.

2. He had no horns Sir had he?

Cap. No Sir, he's a Pollard, what would'st thou do with horns?

Cit. O if he had, I would have made rare Hafts and Whistles of 'em, but his Shin-bones if they be sound shall serve me.

[Enter Philaster.

All. Long live Philaster, the brave Prince Philaster.

Phi. I thank you Gentlemen, but why are these Rude weapons brought abroad, to teach your hands Uncivil Trades?

Cap. My Royal Rosiclear, We are thy Mirmidons, thy Guard, thy Rorers, And when thy noble body is in durance, Thus do we clap our musty Murrions on, And trace the streets in terrour: Is it peace Thou Mars of men? Is the King sociable, And bids thee live? Art thou above thy foemen, And free as Phoebus? Speak, if not, this stand Of Royal blood shall be abroach, atilt, and run Even to the lees of honour.

Phi. Hold and be satisfied, I am my self Free as my thoughts are, by the gods I am.

Cap. Art thou the dainty darling of the King? Art thou the Hylas to our Hercules? Do the Lords bow, and the regarded scarlets, Kiss their Gumd-gols, and cry, we are your servants? Is the Court Navigable, and the presence struck With Flags of friendship? if not, we are thy Castle And this man sleeps.

Phi. I am what I desire to be, your friend, I am what I was born to be, your Prince.

Pha. Sir, there is some humanity in you, You have a noble soul, forget my name, And know my misery, set me safe aboard From these wild Canibals, and as I live, I'le quit this Land for ever: there is nothing, Perpetual prisonment, cold, hunger, sickness Of all sorts, all dangers, and all together The worst company of the worst men, madness, age, To be as many Creatures as a woman, And do as all they do, nay to despair; But I would rather make it a new Nature, And live with all those than endure one hour Amongst these wild Dogs.

Phi. I do pity you: Friends discharge your fears, Deliver me the Prince, I'le warrant you I shall be old enough to find my safety.

3 Cit. Good Sir take heed he does not hurt you, He's a fierce man I can tell you Sir.

Cap. Prince, by your leave I'le have a Sursingle, And Male you like a Hawke.

[He stirs.

Phi. Away, away, there is no danger in him: Alas he had rather sleep to shake his fit off. Look you friends, how gently he leads, upon my word He's tame enough, he need[s] no further watching. Good my friends go to your houses and by me have your pardons, and my love, And know there shall be nothing in my power You may deserve, but you shall have your wishes. To give you more thanks were to flatter you, Continue still your love, and for an earnest Drink this. All. Long maist thou live brave Prince, brave Prince, brave Prince.

[Exeunt Phi. and Pha.

Cap. Thou art the King of Courtesie: Fall off again my sweet youths, come and every man Trace to his house again, and hang his pewter up, then to The Tavern and bring your wives in Muffes: we will have Musick and the red grape shall make us dance, and rise Boys.

[Exeunt.

Enter King, Are. Gal. Meg. Cle. Dion, Thra. Bellario, and Attendants.

King. Is it appeas'd?

Di. Sir, all is quiet as this dead of night, As peaceable as sleep, my Lord Philaster Brings on the Prince himself.

King. Kind Gentlemen! I will not break the least word I have given In promise to him, I have heap'd a world Of grief upon his head, which yet I hope To wash away.

Enter Philaster and Pharamond.

Cle. My Lord is come.

King. My Son! Blest be the time that I have leave to call Such vertue mine; now thou art in mine arms, Me thinks I have a salve unto my breast For all the stings that dwell there, streams of grief That I have wrought thee, and as much of joy That I repent it, issue from mine eyes: Let them appease thee, take thy right; take her, She is thy right too, and forget to urge My vexed soul with that I did before.

Phi. Sir, [it is] blotted from my memory, Past and forgotten: For you Prince of Spain, Whom I have thus redeem'd, you have full leave To make an honourable voyage home. And if you would go furnish'd to your Realm With fair provision, I do see a Lady Me thinks would gladly bear you company: How like you this piece?

Meg. Sir, he likes it well, For he hath tried it, and found it worth His princely liking; we were ta'ne a bed, I know your meaning, I am not the first That Nature taught to seek a fellow forth: Can shame remain perpetually in me, And not in others? or have Princes salves To cure ill names that meaner people want?

Phi. What mean you?

Meg. You must get another ship To clear the Princess and the boy together.

Di. How now!

Meg. Others took me, and I took her and him At that all women may be ta'ne sometimes: Ship us all four my Lord, we can endure Weather and wind alike.

King. Clear thou thy self, or know not me for Father.

Are. This earth, How false it is? what means is left for me To clear my self? It lies in your belief, My Lords believe me, and let all things else Struggle together to dishonour me.

Bell. O stop your ears great King, that I may speak As freedom would, then I will call this Lady As base as be her actions, hear me Sir, Believe [y]our hated bloud when it rebels Against your reason sooner than this Lady.

Meg. By this good light he bears it hansomely.

Phi. This Lady? I will sooner trust the wind With Feathers, or the troubled Sea with Pearl, Than her with any thing; believe her not! Why think you, if I did believe her words; I would outlive 'em: honour cannot take Revenge on you, then what were to be known But death?

King. Forget her Sir, since all is knit Between us: but I must request of you One favour, and will sadly be denied.

Phi. Command what ere it be.

King. Swear to be true to what you promise.

Phi. By the powers above, Let it not be the death of her or him, And it is granted.

King. Bear away the boy To Torture, I will have her clear'd or buried.

Phi. O let me call my words back, worthy Sir, Ask something else, bury my life and right In one poor grave, but do not take away my life and fame at once. King. Away with him, it stands irrevocable.

Phi. Turn all your eyes on me, here stands a man The falsest and the basest of this world: Set swords against this breast some honest man, For I have liv'd till I am pitied, My former deeds are hateful, but this last Is pitifull, for I unwillingly Have given the dear preserver of my life

[Offers to kill himself.]

Unto his Torture: is it in the power Of flesh and blood, to carry this and live?

Are. Dear Sir be patient yet, or stay that hand.

King. Sirs, strip that boy.

Di. Come Sir, your tender flesh will try your constancie.

Bell. O kill me gentlemen.

Di. No, help Sirs.

Bell. Will you Torture me?

King. Hast there, why stay you?

Bell. Then I shall not break my vow, You know just gods, though I discover all.

King. How's that? Will he confess?

Di. Sir, so he says.

King. Speak then.

Bell. Great King if you command This Lord to talk with me alone, my tongue Urg'd by my heart, shall utter all the thoughts My youth hath known, and stranger things than these You hear not often.

King. Walk aside with him.

Di. Why speak'st thou not?

Bell. Know you this face my Lord?

Di. No.

Bell. Have you not seen it, nor the like?

Di. Yes, I have seen the like, but readily I know not where.

Bell. I have been often told In Court, of one Euphrasia, a Lady And Daughter to you; betwixt whom and me (They that would flatter my bad face would swear) There was such strange resemblance, that we two Could not be known asunder, drest alike.

Di. By Heaven and so there is.

Bell. For her fair sake, Who now doth spend the spring time of her life In holy Pilgrimage, move to the King, That I may scape this Torture.

Di. But thou speak'st As like Euphrasia as thou dost look, How came it to thy knowledge that she lives in Pilgrimage?

Bell. I know it not my Lord, But I have heard it, and do scarce believe it.

Di. Oh my shame, is't possible? Draw near, That I may gaze upon thee, art thou she? Or else her Murderer? where wert thou born?

Bell. In Siracusa.

Di. What's thy name?

Bell. Euphrasia.

Di. O 'tis just, 'tis she now, I do know thee, Oh that thou hadst died And I had never seen thee nor my shame, How shall I own thee? shall this tongue of mine E're call thee Daughter more?

Bell. Would I had died indeed, I wish it too, And so I must have done by vow, e're published What I have told, but that there was no means To hide it longer, yet I joy in this, The Princess is all clear.

King. What have you done?

Di. All is discovered.

Phi. Why then hold you me?

Di. All is discovered, pray you let me go. [He offers to stab himself_.]

King. Stay him.

Are. What is discovered?

Di. Why my shame, it is a woman, let her speak the rest.

Phi. How! that again.

Di. It is a woman.

Phi. Blest be you powers that favour innocence.

King. Lay hold upon that Lady.

Phi. It is a woman Sir, hark Gentlemen! It is a woman. Arethusa take My soul into thy breast, that would be gone With joy: it is a woman, thou art fair,

And vertuous still to ages, in despight of malice.

King. Speak you, where lies his shame?

Bell. I am his Daughter.

Phi. The Gods are just.

Di. I dare accuse none, but before you two The vertue of our age, I bend my knee For mercy.

Phi. Take it freely; for I know, Though what thou didst were undiscreetly done, 'Twas meant well.

Are. And for me, I have a power to pardon sins as oft As any man has power to wrong me.

Cle. Noble and worthy.

Phi. But Bellario, (For I must call thee still so) tell me why Thou didst conceal thy Sex, it was a fault, A fault Bellario, though thy other deeds Of truth outweigh'd it: All these Jealousies Had flown to nothing, if thou hadst discovered, What now we know.

Bell. My Father would oft speak Your worth and vertue, and as I did grow More and more apprehensive, I did thirst To see the man so rais'd, but yet all this Was but a Maiden longing to be lost As soon as found, till sitting in my window, Printing my thoughts in Lawne, I saw a God I thought (but it was you) enter our Gates, My bloud flew out, and back again as fast As I had puft it forth, and suck't it in Like breath, then was I call'd away in hast To entertain you. Never was a man Heav'd from a Sheep-coat to a Scepter rais'd So high in thoughts as I, you left a kiss Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep From you for ever, I did hear you talk Far above singing; after you were gone, I grew acquainted with my heart, and search'd What stir'd it so, Alas I found it love, Yet far from lust, for could I have but liv'd In presence of you, I had had my end, For this I did delude my noble Father With a feign'd Pilgrimage, and drest my self In habit of a boy, and, for I knew My birth no match for you, I was past hope Of having you. And understanding well That when I made discovery of my Sex, I could not stay with you, I made a vow By all the most religious things a Maid Could call together, never to be known, Whilst there was hope to hide me from mens eyes, For other than I seem'd; that I might ever Abide with you, then sate I by the Fount Where first you took me up.

King. Search out a match Within our Kingdom where and when thou wilt, And I will pay thy Dowry, and thy self Wilt well deserve him.

Bell. Never Sir will I Marry, it is a thing within my vow, But if I may have leave to serve the Princess, To see the vertues of her Lord and her, I shall have hope to live.

Are. I Philaster, Cannot be jealous, though you had a Lady Drest like a Page to serve you, nor will I Suspect her living here: come live with me, Live free, as I do, she that loves my Lord, Curst be the wife that hates her.

Phi. I grieve such vertues should be laid in earth Without an Heir; hear me my Royal Father, Wrong not the freedom of our souls so much, To think to take revenge of that base woman, Her malice cannot hurt us: set her free As she was born, saving from shame and sin.

King. Set her at liberty, but leave the Court, This is no place for such: you Pharamond Shall have free passage, and a conduct home Worthy so great a Prince, when you come there, Remember 'twas your faults that lost you her, And not my purpos'd will.

Pha. I do confess, Renowned Sir.

King. Last joyn your hands in one, enjoy Philaster This Kingdom which is yours, and after me What ever I call mine, my blessing on you, All happy hours be at your Marriage joyes, That you may grow your selves over all Lands, And live to see your plenteous branches spring Where ever there is Sun. Let Princes learn By this to rule the passions of their blood, For what Heaven wills, can never be withstood.

[Exeunt Omnes.