Act 1 — Scene I.[3173]

King. To give a stronger testimony of love Than sickly promises (which commonly In princes find both birth and burial100 In one breath) we have drawn you, worthy sir, To make your fair endearments to our daughter, And worthy services known to our subjects, Now lov’d and wondered at; next, our intent To plant you deeply our immediate heir105 Both to our blood and kingdoms. For this lady, (The best part of your life, as you confirm me, And I believe,) though her few years and sex Yet teach her nothing but her fears and blushes, Desires without desire, discourse and knowledge110 Only of what herself is to herself, Make her feel moderate health; and when she sleeps, In making no ill day, knows no ill dreams. Think not, dear sir, these undivided parts, That must mould up a virgin, are put on115 To show her so, as borrowed ornaments To speak her perfect love to you, or add An artificial shadow to her nature,— No, sir; I boldly dare proclaim her yet No woman. But woo her still, and think her modesty120 A sweeter mistress than the offer’d language Of any dame, were she a queen, whose eye Speaks common loves and comforts to her servants.[3176] Last, noble son (for so I now must call you), What I have done thus public, is not only125 To add a comfort in particular To you or me, but all; and to confirm The nobles and the gentry of these kingdoms By oath to your succession, which shall be Within this month at most.130 Thra. This will be hardly done. Cle. It must be ill done, if it be done. Dion. When ’tis at best, ’t will be but half done, whilst So brave a gentleman is wrong’d and flung off. Thra. I fear.135 Cle. Who does not? Dion. I fear not for myself, and yet I fear too. Well, we shall see, we shall see. No more. Pha. Kissing your white hand, mistress, I take leave To thank your royal father; and thus far140 To be my own free trumpet. Understand, Great King, and these your subjects, mine that must be, (For so deserving you have spoke me, sir, And so deserving I dare speak myself,) To what a person, of what eminence,145 Ripe expectation, of what faculties, Manners and virtues, you would wed your kingdoms; You in me have your wishes. Oh, this country! By more than all the gods, I hold it happy;149 Happy in their dear memories that have been Kings great and good; happy in yours that is; And from you (as a chronicle to keep Your noble name from eating age) do I Opine myself most, happy. Gentlemen, Believe me in a word, a prince’s word,155 There shall he nothing to make up a kingdom Mighty and flourishing, defenced, fear’d, Equal to be commanded and obeyed, But through the travails of my life I’ll find it, And tie it to this country. By all the gods,160 My reign shall be so easy to the subject, That every man shall be his prince himself, And his own law—yet I his prince and law. And dearest lady, to your dearest self (Dear in the choice of him whose name and lustre165 Must make you more and mightier) let me say, You are the blessed’st living; for, sweet princess, You shall enjoy a man of men to be Your servant; you shall make him yours, for whom Great queens must die.170 Thra. Miraculous! Cle. This speech calls him Spaniard, being nothing but a large inventory of his own commendations. Dion. I wonder what’s his price; for certainly175 He’ll sell himself, he has so prais’d his shape. Enter Philaster. But here comes one more worthy those large speeches, Than the large speaker of them. Let me be swallowed quick, if I can find, In all the anatomy of yon man’s virtues,180 One sinew sound enough to promise for him, He shall be constable. By this sun, He’ll ne’er make king unless it be of trifles, In my poor judgment. Phi. [kneeling.] Right noble sir, as low as my obedience,185 And with a heart as loyal as my knee, I beg your favour. King. Rise; you have it, sir. [Philaster rises.] Dion. Mark but the King, how pale he looks! He fears! Oh, this same whorson conscience, how it jades us! King. Speak your intents, sir. Phi. Shall I speak ’em freely?190 Be still my royal sovereign. King. As a subject, We give you freedom. Dion. Now it heats. Phi. Then thus I turn My language to you, prince; you, foreign man! Ne’er stare nor put on wonder, for you must Endure me, and you shall. This earth you tread upon195 (A dowry, as you hope, with this fair princess), By my dead father (oh, I had a father, Whose memory I bow to!) was not left To your inheritance, and I up and living— Having myself about me and my sword,200 The souls of all my name and memories, These arms and some few friends beside the gods— To part so calmly with it, and sit still And say, “I might have been.” I tell thee, Pharamond,204 When thou art king, look I be dead and rotten, And my name ashes:[3177] for, hear me, Pharamond! This very ground thou goest on, this fat earth, My father’s friends made fertile with their faiths, Before that day of shame shall gape and swallow Thee and thy nation, like a hungry grave,210 Into her hidden bowels. Prince, it shall: By the just gods, it shall! Pha. He’s mad; beyond cure, mad. Dion. Here is a fellow has some fire in ’s veins: The outlandish prince looks like a tooth-drawer. Phi. Sir Prince of popinjays, I’ll make it well215 Appear to you I am not mad. King. You displease us: You are too bold. Phi. No, sir, I am too tame, Too much a turtle, a thing born without passion, A faint shadow, that every drunken cloud Sails over, and makes nothing. King. I do not fancy this.220 Call our physicians; sure, he’s somewhat tainted![3178] Thra. I do not think ’t will prove so. Dion. H’as given him a general purge already, For all the right he has; and now he means To let him blood. Be constant, gentlemen:225 By heaven, I’ll run his hazard, Although I run my name out of the kingdom! Cle. Peace, we are all one soul. Pha. What you have seen in me to stir offence I cannot find, unless it be this lady,230 Offer’d into mine arms with the succession; Which I must keep, (though it hath pleas’d your fury To mutiny within you,) without disputing Your genealogies, or taking knowledge Whose branch you are. The King will leave it me,235 And I dare make it mine. You have your answer. Phi. If thou wert sole inheritor to him That made the world his,[3179] and couldst see no sun Shine upon any thing but thine; were Pharamond As truly valiant as I feel him cold,240 And ring’d amongst the choicest of his friends (Such as would blush to talk such serious follies, Or back such bellied[3180] commendations), And from this presence, spite of all these bugs,[3181] You should hear further from me.245 King. Sir, you wrong the prince; I gave you not this freedom To brave our best friends. You deserve our frown. Go to; be better temper’d. Phi. It must be, sir, when I am nobler us’d. Gal. Ladies,250 This would have been a pattern of succession,[3182] Had he ne’er met this mischief. By my life, He is the worthiest the true name of man This day within my knowledge. Meg. I cannot tell what you may call your knowledge;255 But the other is the man set in mine eye. Oh, ’tis a prince of wax![3183] Gal. A dog it is.[3184] King. Philaster, tell me The injuries you aim at[3185] in your riddles.259 Phi. If you had my eyes, sir, and sufferance, My griefs upon you, and my broken fortunes, My wants great, and now nought but hopes and fears, My wrongs would make ill riddles to be laught at. Dare you be still my king, and right me not? King. Give me your wrongs in private. Phi. Take them,265 And ease me of a load would bow strong Atlas. They whisper.

King. Go to; Be more yourself, as you respect our favour;279 You ’ll stir us else. Sir, I must have you know, That y’ are and shall be, at our pleasure, what Fashion we will put upon you. Smooth your brow, Or by the gods—— Phi. I am dead, sir; y’ are my fate. It was not I Said, I was wrong’d: I carry all about me285 My weak stars lead me to, all my weak fortunes. Who dares in all this presence speak, (that is But man of flesh, and may be mortal,) tell me I do not most entirely love this prince, And honour his full virtues! King. Sure, he’s possess’d.290 Phi. Yes, with my father’s spirit. It’s here, O King, A dangerous spirit! Now he tells me, King, I was a king’s heir, bids me be a king, And whispers to me, these are all my subjects. ’Tis strange he will not let me sleep, but dives Into my fancy, and there gives me shapes296 That kneel and do me service, cry me king. But I’ll suppress him; he’s a factious spirit, And will undo me.—[To Phar.] Noble sir, your hand; I am your servant. King. Away! I do not like this:300 I’ll make you tamer, or I’ll dispossess you Both of your life and spirit. For this time I pardon your wild speech, without so much As your imprisonment. Exeunt King, Pharamond, Arethusa [and Train].

Dion. See, how his fancy labours! Has he not Spoke home and bravely? What a dangerous train Did he give fire to! How he shook the King, Made his soul melt within him, and his blood Run into whey! It stood upon his brow 320 Like a cold winter dew. Phi. Gentlemen, You have no suit to me? I am no minion. You stand, methinks, like men that would be courtiers, If I [3189] could well be flatter’d at a price Not to undo your children. You’re all honest: Go, get you home again, and make your country 326 A virtuous court, to which your great ones may, In their diseased age, retire and live recluse. Cle. How do you, worthy sir? Phi. Well, very well; And so well that, if the King please you, I find I may live many years. Dion. The King must please, 331 Whilst we know what you are and who you are, Your wrongs and virtues.[3190] Shrink not, worthy sir, But add your father to you; in whose name We’ll waken all the gods, and conjure up 335 The rods of vengeance, the abused people, Who, like to raging torrents, shall swell high, And so begirt the dens of these male-dragons, That, through the strongest safety, they shall beg For mercy at your sword’s point. Phi. Friends, no more; 340 Our ears may be corrupted; t is an age We dare not trust our wills to. Do you love me? Thra. Do we love Heaven and Honour? Phi. My Lord Dion, you had A virtuous gentlewoman call’d you father; 345 Is she yet alive? Dion. Most honour’d sir, she is; And, for the penance but of an idle dream Has undertook a tedious pilgrimage.

Phi. Is it to me, or any of these gentlemen, you come? Lady. To you, brave lord; the princess would entreat350 Your present company. Phi. The princess send for me! You are mistaken. Lady. If you be called Philaster, ’t is to you. Phi. Kiss her fair hand, and say I will attend her. [Exit Lady.] Dion. Do you know what you do?355 Phi. Yes; go to see a woman. Cle. But do you weigh the danger you are in? Phi. Danger in a sweet face! By Jupiter, I must not fear a woman! Thra. But are you sure it was the princess sent?360 It may be some foul train to catch your life. Phi. I do not think it, gentlemen; she’s noble. Her eye may shoot me dead, or those true red And white friends in her cheeks may steal my soul out;364 There’s all the danger in ’t. But, be what may, Her single[3191] name hath arm’d me. Exit. Dion. Go on, And be as truly happy as thou ’rt fearless!— Come, gentlemen, let ’s make our friends acquainted, Lest the King prove false. Exeunt.