Act 1 — Scene III.[4136]

Tec. Tempt not the stars; young man, thou canst not play With the severity of fate: this change Of habit and disguise in outward view Hides not the secrets of thy soul within thee From their quick-piercing eyes, which dive at all times5 Down to thy thoughts: in thy aspect I note A consequence of danger. Org. Give me leave, Grave Tecnicus, without foredooming destiny, Under thy roof to ease my silent griefs, By applying to my hidden wounds the balm10 Of thy oraculous lectures. If my fortune Run such a crooked by-way as to wrest My steps to ruin, yet thy learned precepts Shall call me back and set my footings straight. I will not court the world. Tec. Ah, Orgilus,15 Neglects in young men of delights and life Run often to extremities; they care not For harms to others who contemn their own. Org. But I, most learned artist, am not so much At odds with nature that I grudge the thrift20 Of any true deserver; nor doth malice Of present hopes so check them with despair As that I yield to thought of more affliction Than what is incident to frailty: wherefore Impute not this retired course of living25 Some little time to any other cause Than what I justly render,—the information Of an unsettled mind; as the effect Must clearly witness. Tec. Spirit of truth inspire thee! On these conditions I conceal thy change,30 And willingly admit thee for an auditor.— I ’ll to my study. Org. I to contemplations In these delightful walks.— Exit Tecnicus. Thus metamorphos’d I may without suspicion hearken after Penthea’s usage and Euphranea’s faith.35 Love, thou art full of mystery! The deities Themselves are not secure[4137] in searching out The secrets of those flames, which, hidden, waste A breast made tributary to the laws Of beauty: physic yet hath never found40 A remedy to cure a lover’s wound.— Ha! who are those that cross yon private walk Into the shadowing grove in amorous foldings? Prophilus passeth over, supporting[4138] Euphranea, and whispering. My sister! O, my sister! ’t is Euphranea With Prophilus: supported too! I would45 It were an apparition! Prophilus Is Ithocles his friend: it strangely puzzles me. Again! help me, my book; this scholar’s habit Must stand my privilege: my mind is busy, Mine eyes and ears are open. Walks by, reading.

Pro. Do not waste50 The span of this stol’n time, lent by the gods For precious use, in niceness.[4139] Bright Euphranea, Should I repeat old vows, or study new, For purchase of belief to my desires,— Org. [Aside.] Desires! Pro. My service, my integrity,—55 Org. [Aside.] That ’s better. Pro. I should but repeat a lesson Oft conn’d without a prompter but thine eyes. My love is honourable. Org. [Aside.] So was mine To my Penthea, chastely honourable. Pro. Nor wants there more addition to my wish60 Of happiness than having thee a wife; Already sure of Ithocles, a friend Firm and unalterable. Org. [Aside.] But a brother More cruel than the grave. Euph. What can you look for, In answer to your noble protestations,65 From an unskilful maid, but language suited To a divided mind? Org. [Aside.] Hold out, Euphranea! Euph. Know, Prophilus, I never undervalu’d, From the first time you mentioned worthy love, Your merit, means, or person: it had been70 A fault of judgment in me, and a dulness In my affections, not to weigh and thank My better stars that offered me the grace Of so much blissfulness. For, to speak truth, The law of my desires kept equal pace75 With yours; nor have I left that resolution: But only, in a word, whatever choice Lives nearest in my heart must first procure Consent both from my father and my brother, Ere he can own me his. Org. [Aside.] She is forsworn else.80 Pro. Leave me that task. Euph. My brother, ere he parted To Athens, had my oath. Org. [Aside.] Yes, yes, ’a had, sure. Pro. I doubt not, with the means the court supplies, But to prevail at pleasure. Org. [Aside.] Very likely! Pro. Meantime, best, dearest, I may build my hopes85 On the foundation of thy constant suff’rance In any opposition. Euph. Death shall sooner Divorce life and the joys I have in living Than my chaste vows from truth. Pro. On thy fair hand I seal the like.90 Org. [Aside.] There is no faith in woman. Passion, O, be contain’d! My very heart-strings Are on the tenters.[4140] Euph. Sir, we are overheard. Cupid protect us! ’T was a stirring, sir, Of some one near. Pro. Your fears are needless, lady;95 None have access into these private pleasures Except some near in court, or bosom-student From Tecnicus his oratory, granted By special favour lately from the king Unto the grave philosopher. Euph. Methinks100 I hear one talking to himself,—I see him. Pro. ’T is a poor scholar, as I told you, lady. Org. [Aside.] I am discovered.—[Half aloud to himself, as if studying.] Say it; is it possible, With a smooth tongue, a leering countenance, Flattery, or force of reason—I come t’ye, sir—105 To turn or to appease the raging sea? Answer to that.—Your art! what art to catch And hold fast in a net the sun’s small atoms? No, no; they’ll out, they’ll out: ye may as easily Outrun a cloud driven by a northern blast110 As fiddle-faddle so! Peace, or speak sense. Euph. Call you this thing a scholar? ’Las, he ’s lunatic. Pro. Observe him, sweet; ’t is but his recreation. Org. But will you hear a little? You’re so tetchy, You keep no rule in argument. Philosophy115 Works not upon impossibilities, But natural conclusions.—Mew!—absurd! The metaphysics are but speculations Of the celestial bodies, or such accidents As not mixt perfectly, in the air engend’red120 Appear to us unnatural; that’s all. Prove it; yet, with a reverence to your gravity, I’ll balk illiterate sauciness, submitting My sole opinion to the touch of writers. Pro. Now let us fall in with him. [They come forward.] Org. Ha, ha, ha!125 These apish boys, when they but taste the grammates[4141] And principles of theory, imagine They can oppose their teachers. Confidence Leads many into errors. Pro. By your leave, sir. Euph. Are you a scholar, friend? Org. I am, gay creature,130 With pardon of your deities, a mushroom On whom the dew of heaven drops now and then; The sun shines on me too, I thank his beams! Sometime I feel their warmth; and eat and sleep. Pro. Does Tecnicus read to thee? Org. Yes, forsooth,135 He is my master surely; yonder door Opens upon his study. Pro. Happy creatures! Such people toil not, sweet, in heats of state, Nor sink in thaws of greatness; their affections Keep order with the limits of their modesty;140 Their love is love of virtue.—What’s thy name? Org. Aplotes, sumptuous master, a poor wretch. Euph. Dost thou want anything? Org. Books, Venus, books. Pro. Lady, a new conceit comes in my thought, And most available for both our comforts.145 Euph. My lord,— Pro. Whiles I endeavour to deserve Your father’s blessing to our loves, this scholar May daily at some certain hours attend[4142] What notice I can write of my success,149 Here in this grove, and give it to your hands; The like from you to me: so can we never, Barr’d of out mutual speech, want sure intelligence, And thus our hearts may talk when our tongues cannot. Euph. Occasion is most favourable; use it. Pro. Aplotes, wilt thou wait us twice a day, At nine i’ the morning and at four at night,156 Here in this bower, to convey such letters As each shall send to other? Do it willingly, Safely, and secretly, and I will furnish Thy study, or what else thou canst desire.160 Org. Jove, make me thankful, thankful, I beseech thee, Propitious Jove! I will prove sure and trusty: You will not fail me books? Pro. Nor aught besides Thy heart can wish. This lady’s name’s Euphranea, Mine Prophilus. Org. I have a pretty memory;165 It must prove my best friend. I will not miss One minute of the hours appointed. Pro. Write The books thou wouldst have bought thee in a note, Or take thyself some money. Org. No, no money; Money to scholars is a spirit invisible,170 We dare not finger it: or books, or nothing. Pro. Books of what sort thou wilt: do not forget Our names. Org. I warrant ye, I warrant ye. Pro. Smile, Hymen, on the growth of our desires; We’ll feed thy torches with eternal fires!175 Exeunt Prophilus and Euphranea. Org. Put out thy torches, Hymen, or their light Shall meet a darkness of eternal night! Inspire me, Mercury, with swift deceits. Ingenious Fate has leapt into mine arms, Beyond the compass of my brain.[4143] Mortality180 Creeps on the dung of earth, and cannot reach The riddles which are purpos’d by the gods. Great arts best write themselves in their own stories; They die too basely who outlive their glories. Exit.