PALADOR

Why all this Company? I believe it. Of me? my subjects talk of me? I'll borrow patience A little time to listen to these wrongs, And from the few of you which are here present, Conceive the general voice. By all your loves I charge you, without fear Or flattery, to let me know your thoughts, And how I am interpreted: Speak boldly. So—Tutor, your conceit? You are a Courtier. You have not spoken yet. You are somewhat long a thinking. Am I not worthy of your thought? Pity? Is it a misery to be a Prince? Your Sovereign while he lived. But what of him? I charge thee by the duty that thou owest us, be plain in what thou meanest to speak: there's some thing that we must know: be free, our ears are open. This is mere trifling—Would? are all stolen hence? We are alone: Thou hast and honest look, Thou hast a tongue, I hope, that is not oiled With flattery. Be open, though 'tis true, That in my younger days I oft have herd Agenors name, my Father, more traduced, Then I could then observe; yet I protest, I never had a friend, a certain friend, That would inform me thoroughly of such errors, As oftentimes are incident to Princes. I see then I must court thee. Take the word Of a joust Prince for any thing thou speakest. I have more then a Pardon, thanks and love. She was a lovely beauty: Prithee forward. Good call it back again into thy memory, Else losing the remainder, I am lost too. But what became of fair Eroclea? No hope lives then Of ever, ever seeing her again. I am prepared to hear, say what you please. My ear is open to thee. In habit of a man? If I did love her, Rhetias : yes I did. Give me thy hand: As thou didst serve Meleander, And art still true to these, henceforth serve me. Forget the sadder story of my Father, And only Rhetias, learn to read me well, For I must ever thank thee; th'ast unlocked A tongue was vowed to silence, for requital Open my bosom, Rhetias. To tie thee to and oath of secrecy— Unloose the buttons, man, thou dost it faintly, What findest thou there? Look well vpon't. Whose! Hers that was once Eroclea : for her sake Have I aduanst Sophronos to the Helm Of government; for her sake will restore Meleanders Honours to him; will for her sake Beg friendship from thee, Rhetias. Oh be faithful, And let no politic Lord work from thy bosom My griefs: I know thou Wertenberg put on to sift me: But be not too secure. Continue still thy discontented fashion: Humour the Lords, as they would humour me; I'll not live in thy debt.—We are discovered. It is our duty To love the virtuous. Your commendations, Sweet Cousin, speaks him Nobly. What fortune led him to Cyprus! Some other time. How is a called? Parthenophill? We shall sort time to take more notice of him. We will observe it. The name of this conceit. Here I find it. Hydrophobia term you this? I not dislike the course. True. You name this here, Hypochondriacal. 'Tis very strange: but Heaven is full of miracles. We are thy debtor ( Corax ) for the gift Of this invention: but the plot deceives us; What means this empty space. Hold, let no man henceforth name the word again Wait you my pleasure, Youth; 'tis late, to rest. Fly then to the desert, Where thou didst first encounter this Fantastic, This airy apparition; come no more In sighed: Get ye all from me; he that stays, Is not my friend. Some angry power, cheats with rare delusions, My credulous sense: the very soul of Reason Is troubled in me—the Physician Presented a strange Mask, the view of it Puzzled my understanding: but the Boy— Rhetias, thou art acquainted with my griefs, Parthenophill is lost, and I would see him; For he is Like to some thing I remember A great while since, a long, long time ago. How Rhetias! The young man in disguise upon my life, To steal out of the Land. Do, do my Rhetias. As there is by nature In every thing created contrariety: So likewise is there unity and league Between them in their kind; but Man, the abstract Of all perfection, which the workmanship Of Heaven hath modeled, in himself contains Passion of several quality, the music Of men fair composition best accords, When 'tis in consort, not in single strains. My heart has been untuned these many months, Wanting her presence, in whose equal love True harmony consisted; living here We are Heavens bounty all, but Fortune's exercise. What Echo yields a voice to my complaints? Can I be no where private? Stand up; 'tis not the figure stamped upon thy cheeks, The cozenage of thy beauty, grace, or tongue, Can draw from me a secret, that hath been The only lewell of my speechless thoughts. Cunning Impostor, Untruth hath made thee subtle in thy trade: If any neighbouring Greatness hath seduced A freeborn resolution, to attempt Some bolder act of treachery, by cutting My weary days off. Wherefore ( Cruel-mercy ) Hast thou assumed a shape, that would make treason A piety, gilded pardonable, bloodshed As holy as the sacrifice of peace? My scorn (disdainful Boy) shall soon un weave The web thy Art hath twisted: cast thy shape off, Disroabe the mantle of a feigned Sex, And so I may be gentle; as thou art, There's witchcraft in thy language, in thy face, In thy demeanours; turn, turn from me (prithee) For my belief is armed else. Yet ( fair subtlety ) Before we partly (for partly we must) be true, Tell me thy Country. Would: thy Father. Hast a name? There is danger In this seducing counterfeit, great goodness! Hath honesty and virtue left the time? Are we become so impious, that to tread The path of impudence, is Law and Justice? Thou vizard of a beauty ever sacred, Give me thy name. Join not too fast Thy penance, with the story of my sufferings. So dwelled simplicity with virgin truth ; So Martyrdom and holiness are twins, As innocence and sweetness on thy tongue. But let me by degrees collect my senses, I may abuse my trust. Tell me, what air Hast thou perfumed, since Tyranny first ravished The contract of our hearts? Buried! Right, as I In Cyprus. —Come to trial, if thou be'st Eroclea, in my bosom I can find thee. We are but Fools To trifle in disputes, or vainly struggle With that eternal mercy which protects us. Come home, home to my heart, thou banished-peace, My ecstasy of joys would speak in passion, But that I would not loose that partly of man, Which is reserved to entertain content. Eroclea, I am thine; Oh let me seize thee As my inheritance. Hymen shall now Set all his Torches burning, to give light Throughout this Land, new settled in thy welcome. Enough, in stead of Music, every night To make our sleeps delightful, thou shalt close Our weary eyes with some partly of thy story. Fear not: to behold Eroclea safe, will make him young again; It shall be our first task. Blush sensual follies, A Castaway, a poor despised Maid, Only for me to hope was almost sin, Yet troth I never tempted him. Thus Princes should be circled with a guard Of truly noble friends, and watchful subjects. Oh Rhetias, thou art joust; the Youth thou toldest me. That lived at Athens, is returned at last To her own Fortune's, and contracted I oue. Eroclea, clear thy fears, when the Sun shines, Clouds must not dare to muster in the sky, Nor shall they here—Why do they kneel? Stand up, The day and place is privileged. Wherefore does this young virgin use such cir cumstance, In duty to us? Rise. We must partly: The sudden meeting of these two fair Rivulets With the Island of our arms, Cleophila, The custom of thy piety hath built Even to thy younger years a Monument Of memorable Fame; some great reward Must wait on thy desert. Away then. You shall not kneel to us; rise all, I charge you: Father, you wrong your age, henceforth my arms And heart shall be your guard; we have overheard All passages of your united loves. Be young again, Meleander, live to number And happy generation, and die old In comforts as in years. The Offices And Honours which I late on thee conferred, Are not fantastic bounties, but thy merit; Enjoy them liberally. Good man, we both have shared enough of sadness: Though thine ha tasted deeper of extreme; Let us forget it henceforth. Where's the picture I sent ye? Keep it, 'tis a counterfeit, And in exchange of that, I cease on this, The real substance: with this other hand I give away before her Father's face His younger joy, Cleophila, to thee Cousin Amethus : take her, and be to her More then a Father, a deserving husband. Thus robbed of both thy children in a minute, Thy cares are taken off. Eroclea was you know, contracted mine; Cleophila, my Cousin's by consent Of both their hearts: We both now claim our own; It only rests in you to give a blessing For confirmation. Leave the rest to time. Cousin Thamasta, I must give you too: She's thy wife, Menaphon. Rhetias, for thee And Corax, I have more then common thanks. On, to the Temple; there all solemn Rites Performed, a general Feast shall be proclaimed. The Lovers Melancholy hath found cure; Sorrows are changed to Bride-songs. So they thrive, Whom Fate in spite of storms hath kept alive. Ye have consented all to work upon The softness of my nature; but take heed: Though I can sleep in silence, and look on The mockery ye make of my dull patience; Yet'ee shall know, the best of ye, that in me There is a masculine, a stirring spirit; Which provoked, shall Like a bearded Comet Set ye at gaze, and threaten horror. Good Sir. 'Tis not your active wit or language, Nor your graven politic wisdoms (Lords) shall dare To checkmate and control my joust commands. Where is the Youth your friend? is be found yet? There is, there is some practice, sleight or plot.