PHILASTER

Right noble sir, as low as my obedience, with a heart as loyal as my knee, I beg for favour. No sir, I am too tame, too much a Turcle, A thing born without passion, a faint shadow: That every drunken cloud sails over, And make nothing. If thou Wertenberg sole inheriter to him That made the world his, And couldst see no Sun shine upon any thing but thine, Were Pharamont as truly valiant as I feel him cold, And ringed amongst the choicest ofhis friends: such As would blush to talk such cerious follies, Or back such belied commendations: and from his presence Spit all those brags, you should hear further from me. It must be sir, when I am nobliervsde. If you had my eyes sir and sufferance, My grief upon you, and my broken Fortune's, My wants great, and now nothing Hope's and fears, My wrongs would make ill riddles to be laughed at: Dare you be still my King, and right me. I am dead sir, you are my Fate, it was not I said I was wronged, I carry all about me, my weak stars led me too: all my weak Fortune's, who dare 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. Yes, with my father's spirit is hear Oh king, a dangerous spirit, and now he tells me king, I was a kings 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 shapes that kneel and do me service, cry me king, but i'll suppress him, heas a factious spirit and will undo me: Noble sir your hand, I am your servant. I'st to me, or to any of these Gentlemen you come. The Princess send for me, you are mistaken, Kiss her fair hand, and say I will attend her. Yes, go to see a woman. Danger in a sweet face: By Iubiter I must not fear a woe man. I dare not think it Gentlemen, she's noble, her eye may shoot me dead, or those true read and white fiend friends in her cheeks, may steal my soul out, there's all the danger int: but be what may, her single name hath armed me. Madame, your messenger. made me believe you wished to speak with me. Never madame you. Madame, this truth which I shall speak ̄ , will be foolish: but for your fair virtuous self, I could afford my self to have no right to any thing you wished. Madame both? I would do much to save that noble life, yet would be loath to have posterity find in our stories, that Phylaster gave his right unto a Sceptre and a Crown, to save a Ladies longing. What more? Madame, what more? No. I can endure it: turn away my face, I never saw yet enemy that looked so dreadfully, But that I thought my self as great a bassaliske as he, Or speak so horrible, but that I thought my tongue Boar thunder underneath as much as his: Nor beast that I could turn from, shall I then begin, To fear sweet sounds, a woman's tongue, whom I do love, Say you would have my life, why I will give it you, For it is of me a thing so loathed, and unto you that beg, Of so poor use, that I shall make no price, If youintreat, I will vnmouedly hear. I do. And me! I'st possible. Madam, you are too full of noble thoughts, to lay a train for this contemned life, which you might have for asking, to suspect were base, where I de serve no ill: love you by all my Hope's, I do above my life, but how this passion should proceed from you so violently, would amaze a man that would be Jealous. Hide me from Pharamont: When thunder speaks, which is the voice of God, Though I do reverence, yet I do not hide my self, And shall a stranger Prince have leave to brag Unto a foreign Nation, that he made Phylaster hide himself. I will. IfI shall have and answer or no, derectly I am gone. Good sir do so still, I would not talk with you. Good sir let me go. Peace Pharamont, if then I have done. You shall not needs. Know Pharamont I loath to brawl with such a blast as thou, who are nothing but a valiant voice, but if thou shalt provoke me further, men shall say thou Wertenberg, and not lament it. It is a place to which I must confess, I owe a reverence, but Wertenberg the Church at the high Altar, there's no place so safe, where thou darstiniurie me, but I dare kill thee: and for your greatness, know I can grasp you and your greatness, thus, thus, into nothing: give not a word, not a word back, farewell. And thou shalt find her honourable, boy full of regard Unto thy tender youth, for thy own modesty, And for my sake, apter to give, then thou wilt be to ask, I or deserve. The love of boys unto their Lords is strange, I have read wonders ofit: yet this boy for my sake, if a man may judge by looks and speech, would out do story. I must see a day to pay him for his loyalty. My worthy friends, you that can keep your memories, to know your friend in Misery's, and cannot frame on men disgrace for virtue, a good day attend you all, what service may I do worthy your acceptation. How honourable is this love in you to me, That have deserved more, know my friends, You that were born to shame your poor Phylaster, With too much courtesy, I could afford to melt my self To thanks, but my designs are not yet ripe sufficient, That ere long I shall employ your loves, But yet the time is short of what I would. Why, what ofher? By what strange means? Thou liest! I ask your pardon sir, My zeal to truth makes me unmannerly, Should I have herd dishonour spoke ofyou, behind your backs, un truly, I had been as much distempered and enraged, as now. O say not so, Good sir forbear to say so, 'tis then truth that women all are false, urge itno more, 'tis impossible, why should you think the Princess light? 'Tis false, by heaven 'tis false, it cannot be, Can it, speak Gentlemen? Can women all be damned? What boy? Why all the world's abused, in and unjust report. Now all the devils thou didst, fly from my rage, Would thou hadst taken devils engendering plagues, When thou didst take them: hide thee from mine eyes, Would thou hadst taken daggers in thy breast, When thou didst take them, Or been stuacke dumb for ever, that this fault might have slept in silence. The winds that are let lose from the four corners Of the earth, and spreads them self all over sea and land, Meets not a fair on, what friend bears a sword, To run me thorough? When any fallen from virtue I am distracted, I have interest in't. I thank you, I will do't, Please you to leave me I'll consider of it, To morrow i'll find your lodgings, and give you answer. I had forgotten to ask um where he took her, I'll follow him. O that I had a sea within my breast, To quench the fire I feel, more circumstances Would but flame this fire: it more afflicts me now, To know by whom the deed is done, then simply, That it is done, and he that tells me this, is honourable, As far from lies, as she is far from truth, Oh that Like beasts we could not grieve our selves With that we see not, bulls and rams will fight, To keep their females standing in their sighed, But take them from them, and you take at once Their spleens away, and they will fallen again Unto their pastures, growing fresh and fat, And taste the waters of the springs as sweet as 'twas before. Finding no start in sleep, but miserable man, See, see, you gods he walks still, and the face you let him wear When he was innocent, is still the same, not blush. Is this justice? do you mean to entrap mortality, That you allow treason so smooth a brow: I cannot now think he is guilty. Oh Bellario, now I perceive she loves me, She dos show it in loving thee my boy, She has made thee brave. Thou art grown Courtly my boy. Oh let all women that love black deeds, learn to dissemble here, Here, with this paper, she dos write to me As if her heart were twines of Adamant To all the world beside, but unto me a maiden snow, That melted with my looks: tell me my boy, How dos the Princess use thee? Why 'tis wondrous well, But what kind language dos she feed thee with? This is much better still. Ill, no Bellario. Thou art deceived boy. And she strokes thy head. And she dos clap thy cheeks. O my heart! This is a salve worse then the main deceit, Tell me thy thoughts, for I will know the least That dwells within thee, or will rip thy heart, To know it, I will see thy thoughts as plain, As I do now thy face. Then 'tis no time to dally with thee, I will take thy life, For I do hate thee, I could curse thee now. Fie, fie, so young and so dissembling, tell me when & where, Thou didst enjoy her, or let plagues fallen upon me, If I destroy thee not. Fearest thou not death, can boys contemn that. Oh thou dost not know what 'tis to die. But there are pains false boy, For perjured, souls: think but those, and then thy heart will melt, And then thou wilt utter all. O! What should I do, why who can but believe him? He dos swear so earnestly, that if it were not true, the gods would not endure him. Rise Bellario, thy protestaions are so deep, and thou dost look so truly when thou utterest them, that though I knew um false, as were my Hope's, I cannot urge thee further, but thou Wertenberg too blame to iniuie me: for I must love thy honest looks, and take no revenge upon thy honest looks: a love from me to thee is firm, what ere thou dost, it troubles me, that I have called thy blood out of thy cheeks, 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 me mad, if I behold thee, if thou tenderest me, let me not see thee. Blessing be with thee what ere thou deservest. Oh where shall I go bath this body, nature too unkind, That madest no medicine to a troubled mind. Peace to your fairest thoughts, dearest mistress. He must be more then man that makes these crystals run into rivers, sweetest fair the cause, and as I am your slave, tied to your goodness, your creature made again from what I was, and newly spirited, I'll right your honour. What boy? What of him? Why? Jealous, who? Oh my heart, would he had broken thee, That made thee know this Lady was not loyal. Mistress forget the boy, I'll get you a far better. 'Tis but your found affection. And all this passion for a boy. Oh thou forgetful woman. False Arethusa. Hast thou a medicine to restore my wits, When I have lost um, if not, leave to talk, and do thus. Now you may take that little right I have to this Poor Kingdom, give it to your Joy, for I have no joy in it: Some far place, where never woman kind durst set her foot, For bursting with her poison must I seek, And live to curse you, and there dig a Cave, And preach to beasts and birds, what women are; How Heaven is in your eyes, but in your hearts more hell, Then hell has: How your tongues, Like Scorpyons, Both heal and poison: How your thoughts woven, With thousand changes in one subtle web, and worn by you: How that foolish men that read the story of a woman's face, And die believing it is lost for ever: How all the good you have, Is but a shadow, i'th morning with you, and at night behind you, Passed and forgotten: How your vows are frost fast, for a night, And with the next Sun gone; How you are, Being taken altogether. A mere confusion, and so dead a Chaios, That love cannot distinguish these sad texts, Till my last hour I am bound to utter of you, So farewell all my woe, all my delight. Now by the gods this is unkindly done, to vex me With thy sighed, thou art fallen again to thy dissembling trade, How shouldst thou think to cousin me again, Remains there yet a plague untried for me. Even so Thou weptest, and lookest, and spokst, when I first took thee, Curse on the time. Ifthy commanding tears can work On any other, use thy art, I'll not betray it, which way Wilt thou take, that I may shun thee, for thine eyes are Poison to mine, and I am loath to grow in rage: This way or that way? I am too blame to be so much in rage, I'll tell her coolly, when and where I herd This killing truth, I will be temperate in speaking, And as joust in hearing; Oh monstrous, tempt me not You gods, good gods, tempt not a frail man, who's he that has a heart, but he must ease it with his tongue. Let me love lightnings, let me be embraced and kissed By Scorpyons, or adore the eyes of Basaliskes, Rather then trust the tongues ofhell-bread women: Some good God look down, and shrink these veins up, Stick me here a stone, lasting to memory of this damned act. Hear me you wicked ones, you have put hills of fire Into my breast, not to be quenched with tears, For which may gilded fit on your bosoms, at your meals and beds, Despair await you, what, before my face, Poison of Asps between your lips, diseases be your best issues, Nature make a curse and throw it on you. I have done, Forgive my passion, not the calmed sea, when Eolus Locks up his windy brood, is less disturbed then I, I'll make you know, deer Arethusa, take this sword, And search how temperate a heart I have, then you, And this your boy, may live and reign in Just, without control. Wilt thou Bellario, I prithee kill me, Thou art poor, and mayest nourish ambitious thoughts When I am dead, thy way were freer, am I raging now? If I were mad, I should desire to live: Sirs, feel my pulse, Whither you have known a man in more Equal tune to die. You will not kill me then? I blame not thee Bellario, thou hast done but that at Which gods would have transformed themselves to do, Be gone, leave me without reply, this is the last Of all our meetings, kill me with this sword, be wise, Or worse will follow, we are two, earth cannot bear at once, resolve to do or suffer. No. Then guide my feeble hand, you that have power To do it, for I must perform a piece of Justice: If your youth have any way offended heaven, Let prayers short and effectual, reconcile you to't. Are you at peace? Nay, they divide thy soul and body. Leave us good friend. Pursue thy own affairs, it will be ill to multiply blood up on my head, which thou wilt force me to. Slave, take what thou deservest, 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 herd her pray, The gods to guard me, she may be abused, 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 be'st guilty, there is no justice that thy sleep Should be so found, and mine whom thou hast wronged, So broken. Hark I am pursued, you gods I'll take This offered means of my escape. They have no mark to know me, but my blood, If she be true, if false, let mischief Light on all the world at once. Sword print my wounds upon his sleeping body, He has none I think are mortal, Nor would I lay greater on thee. I have caught my self, The lose of blood hath stayed my flight here, Here is he that struck thee, take thy full revenge, Use me as I did mean thee, worse then death: I'll 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. How is this? wouldst thou I should be safe? Art thou then true to me? Then I shall die for grief, if not for this, That I have wounded thee: What wilt thou do? Turn back you ravishers of innocents, Know you the price of what you bear away So rudely. 'Tis not the treasure of all the Kings in one, The wealth of Tagus, nor the rocks of pearl, That pave the Court of Neptune, can weigh down That virtue. It was I that hurt the Princess, Place me some God, on a Pyramades, higher then Hills of earth: and lend a voice loud as you Thunder to me, that from thence I may teach The under-world, the worrh that dwells in him. Leave this untimely courtesy Bellario. By all the oaths that men ought most to keep, And gods to punish most, when men do break. He touched her nor, take heed Bellario, How thou dost drown the virtues thou hast shown, With perjury, by all the gods it I, You know she stood betwixt me and my right. I was so: O wy stars, that I should live still. O Arethusa and Bellario, Leave to be kind, I shall be shut from heaven, If you continue so, I am a man false to a pair Of the truest ones that ever earth boar. Can it bear us all? forgive me, and leave me; But the King hath sent to call me to my death, O show it me, and then forget me: and for thee my boy, I shall deliver words, will mollify the hearts of beasts, To spare thy innocence. Make me not hated so. People will tear me, when they find you true, To such a wretch as I, I shall die loathed. Enjoy your Kingdom peaceably, while I for ever sleep, Forgotten with my faults. Every joust maiden, every maid in love, Will have a piece of me, if you be true. Take me in tears betwixt you, For my heart will break with shame and sorrow. Why? what would you have done? If you had wronged me basely, and had found My life no whit compared to yours for love, Sirs, deal with me truly. And have hope to enjoy it. Would you indeed? be plain. Forgive me then. Lead to my death. Sir, let me speak next, And let my dying words be better with you Then my dull living actions: Ifyou aim at the life Of this sweet innocent, you are a tyrant and a savage monster, That feeds upon the blood you gave a life to, 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 a shame of men: No Monument, though high and big as Pelion, Shall be able to cover this base murder, make it rich with brass, Gold and shining Jasper, Like the Pyramids; Lay on Epitaphs, such as make great men gods, My little Marble, that only clothes 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 strengle you: Remember my father king, There was a fault, but I forgive it, let that sin Persuade 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 languished under you, And daily withered, that by the gods, it is a joy to die, I find a recreation in't. Mighty Sir, I will not do your greatuesse so much wrong, As not to make your word truth, free the Princess and the boy, And let me stand the shock of this mad sea-breach, Which I'll either turn, or perish with it. Then thus I take my leave, kissing your hand, And hanging on your noble word, be Kingly, And be not moved Sir, I shall bring you peace, Or never bring my self back. Stay your furies my loving Countrymen. I am, most loving countrymen. But hear me, Countrymen. My coming is to give you thanks, my deer Countrymen, whose powerful sway hath curbed the prossecuting fury of my foes. I find you will, But if my interest in your loves be such, As the world takes notice of, Let me crave You would deliver Pharamont to my hand, And from me accept this Testimony of my love. Which is but a pittance of those ample thanks, Which shall redound with showered courtesies. 'Tis the least of service that I owe the King, Who was careful to preserve you. Royal Sir, Receive into your bosom your desired peace, Those discontented mutineares be appeased, And this fortaigne Prince in safety. The faithfullest servant that ever gave attendance. Let a strong convoy guard him through the Kingdom, With him, let's partly with all our cares and fear, And Crown with joy our happy loves success. 'Tis my suit too. But 'tis you Lady, must make all complete, And gives a full perod to content, Let your loves cordial again revive, The drooping spirits of noble Trasiline. What says Lord Leon to it? Shall I speak on freely, be still my royal Sovereign. Then thus I turn my language to you Prince, you foreign man never start, nor put on wonder; you must endure me, and you shall: This earth you tread upon, a dowry as you hope with this sweet Princess, whose memory I bow to, was not left by my dead fa there, Oh I had a father: to your inheritance, and I up and living, would ving my self about me and my sword the souls of all my name and memories: these arms and some few friends beside the gods to partly so calmly with it, and fit still and say I might have been, I tell thee Pharamont, when thou art King, look I be dead and rotten, and my name ashes, as I: for hear me Pharamont, this very ground thou goest on, this fat earth my father's friends made firtile with their faiths: before that day of shame shall gape and swollow thee and thy nation, Like a hungry graven into his hidden bowels: Prince it shall, by the joust gods it shall. I Prince of popines, I will make it well appear to you I am not mad. Gentlemen, you have no suit to me, I am no Minion, you stand me thinks, Like men that would be Courtiers, if you could well be flattered at a price not to undo your Children, you are all ho nest, go get you home again, and make your Country a virtuous Court, to which your great ones may, in their diseased age, retire live recluses. Well, very well, and so well, that if the King please, I may live many years. Friend no more, our ears may be corrupted, 'tis and Age we dare not trust our wills to, do you love me? My Lord Lion you had a virtuous Gentlewoman called you father, is she yet alive. Will be ill I should abide here long. I have a boy, sent by the gods, I hope to this intent, not yet seen in the Court, hunting the buck I found him sitting by a foum taine side, of which he borrowed some, to quench his thirst, and paid the nymph as much again in tears: a Garland lay him by, made by himself, of many several flowers, bred in the vail, stuck in that mystic order that the rareness delighted me, but ever when he turned his tender eye upon um, he would weep as if he meant to make them grow again, seeing such pretty helpless innocence dwell in his face: I asked him all his story, he told me that his parents gentle died, leaving him to the mercy of the fields: which gave him roots, & of the crystal springs, which did not stop the course, and the Sun, which still he thanked, it yielded him his life: then took he up his garland, and did show what every flower, as country people hold, did signify, and how all ordered thus expressed his grief, and to my thoughts did read the pretiest lecture of his country art, that could be wished, so that me thoughts I could have studied it, I gladly enter tainde him, whom was glad to follow: and have God the trustiest, lovingest, and the gentlest boy that ever master kept, him will I send to wait on you and bear our hidden love. Why? that which all the gods have appointed out for me. Though it should sleep for ever to the world, it is a simple sin to hide my self, which will for ever on my conscience lie. But boy, it will prefer thee, thou art young, And bearest a childish overflowing love, to them that claps thy cheeks, and speak thee fair: but when judgement comes no rule those passion, thou wilt remember best those careful friends, that placed thee in the noblest way of life: she is a Princess I prefer thee to. Why gentle boy? I find no fault at all In thy behaviour. Thy love dos plead so prettily to stay, That trust me I could weep to partly with thee: Alas, I do not turn thee off: thou knowest it is my business That dos call thee hence, and when thou art with her, Thou dwest with me, think so, and 'tis so, and when time is full That thou hast well discharged this heavy trust, Laid on so weak a one: I will again with joy, Receive thee, as I live I will, nay, weep Not, gentle boy, 'tis more then time thou didst attend the Princess. Thou liest, and thou shalt feel it, I had thought, Thy mind had been of honour, then to rob a Lady Of her good name, is and infectious sin, not to be pardoned, Be it false as hell, 'twill never be redeemed, If it be sown amongst the people, faithful to increase, All evil they shall he are. Let me alone, that I May cut out falsehood where it grows, set hills on hills, Betwixt me and that man that utters this, and I will scale them all, And from the utmost top fallen on his neck, Like thunder from a cloud. I do love fair truth, she is my mistress, & who injuries her, draws vengeance from me. Sirs, let go my arms. O good gods, a little boy. Hell and sin know him: Sir you are deceived, I'll reason it a little milder with you, If she were lustful, would she take a boy that knows not yet de sire's, she would have one should meet her thoughts, and know the sin sh e acts, which is the great delight of wickedness, you are abused, and so is she and I. And she dos kiss thee boy, would. She kisses thee. That's strange, I know she dos. Why then she dos not love me, Come she dos, I bid her do't: I charged her by all charms of love between us, by the hope of peace we should enjoy, to yield thee all delight, naked as to her Lord. I took her oath thou shouldst in joy her. Tell me gentle boy, is she not paradise: is not her breath sweet as Arabian winds when fruits are ripe, are not her breasts two lickquid Ivory bals? is she not all a lasting mine of joy? Thou thinkest I will be angry with thee, come thou shalt know all my drift. I hate her more then I love happiness, and placed thee there to pry with sparrows eyes, into her deeds, hast thou discovered, is she fallen to lust, as I would wish her, speak some comfort to me. O that I had been nourished in the woods, With milk of goats, and Acrons, and not known The right of Crowns, nor the dissembling trains Ofcruell love: but dug my self a Cave, Where I, my fire, my Cattle and my bed, Might have been shut together in one shed, And then had taken me some mountain girl, Beaten with winds, chaste as the rock whereon she dwelled, That might have strewed my bed with leaves and redes, And with the skins of beasts our neighbours, and have born Out her big breasts, my large course ifsue: This had been a life free from vexation. Is there a creature yet so miserable that I can pity? wounds her. I hear the tread of people, I am hurt, the gods take partly a gainst me, would this boar have held me thus else: I must shift for life, though I do loose it, I would find a course, To loose it rather by my will, then force. O my misfortune, Then 'tis no idle jealousy, let him go.