PHILOCLES

Eugenios sister then is the rich heir By his decease. 'Tis very well, but how did your worship escape Yove have seen her. When I have needs on't I'll desire it. What beast? Do. Prithee come to the matter. I would thou wouldst pass over this passing oh ver of Authors, and speak thine own judgement. I can describe him better then so my self, he looks Like a man that had sitten up at Cards all night, or a stale Drunkard wakened in the midst of his sleep. How darest thou venture man, what strange medi cine hast thou found, Ovid near taught it thee, I doubt I guess thy remedy, for love, go to a bawdy house or so, is't not? Well I have found you Sir, and prithee tell me, how gottest thou Wenches? And there you may whore by authority, But Clerimont, I doubt this Paragon That thou so praisest, is some ill favoured Wench Whom thou wouldst have me laugh at for commending. How canst thou do it? Thou knowest this Ladies father is to mine A deadly enemy, nor is his house, Open to any of our kindred. Well I will see her the Exeunt. 'Tis happiness enough for me to see The motion of her lips. Ah Cleremont too well, Too well I see what I shall never taste, You Ladies beauty: she must needs be cruel (Though her fair shape deny it) to the son Of him that is her father's enemy, That, Cleremont, that fatal difference Checks my desire, and Sinks my rising Hope's, But love's a torrent violent if stopped, And I am desperately mad: I must must be hers, or else I must not be. May, nay I will in spite of destiny, women and faint hearted fools complain In languishing despair, a manly love Dares show it self and press to his desires Through thickest troops of horid opposites, Were there a thousand waking Dragons set To keep that golden fruit: I would attempt To pluck and taste it, 'tis the danger crowns A brave achievement: what if I should go And boldly woo her in her father's house In spite enmity, what could they say? She would not hate a man for loving her, Or if she did, better be once deemed Then live for ever hapless. What a question's that, seest thou this stone. Hard by her. But prithee tell me what dost think this Letter may do. Cupid guide my arm, O be as joust blind God as thou art great, And with that powerful hand, that golden shaft That I was wounded, wound you tender breast, There is no salve ̄ but that, no cure for me, Sheele wonder more to see what man it comes from. Mock me not fortune, She kissed it, sawest thou her, by heaven she kissed it. He must not if I live, But yet her father brings him that has the means That I should ever want. Thou jests that feels it not, prithee lets go, Best of Ladies, It is so well, so excellently well, Coming from your wished love, my barren thank Wants language for't, there lies in your fair looks More entertainment then in all the pomp That the vain Persian ever taught the world, Your presence is the welcome I expected, That makes it perfect. 'Tis my ambition ever to be yours. O my Stars It your kind influence, that whist I slept In dullest ignorance, contrived for me The way to crown me with felicity. But sweet, amongst all these Roses ther's one thorn That pricks and galls me, our parents enmity Will cross our loves, I do assure my son This father never will give his consent. O thou hast spoke my wishes, and hath showed Thy self in love as true as beautiful; Then let's away dearest Leucothoe, My Fortune's are not poor, then fear no want, This constant love of ours may prove so happy, To reconcile our parents enmity. Why dearest, is thy love so quickly cold? O fear not that, had I a thousand lives, They were too small a venture for such prize, I tell thee sweet, a face not half so fair As thine, hath armed whole actions in the field, And brought a thousand ships to Tenedos, To sack lamented Troy, and should I fear To venture one poor life, and such a life As would be lost in nor possessing thee: Come come, make that no scruple, when shall we go. Where dearest. Near sweeter comfort came from Angels lips I know the place, and will be ready there Before the hour: I'll bring a friend with me As true as mine own heart, one Clerimont, That may do us good if danger happen. Dearest farewell, Hours will seem years till we are met again. exeunt. This Clerimont this is the happy place Where I shall meet the sum of all my joys, And be possessed of such a treasury As would enrich a Monarch. My life, my soul, what here before me, O thou dost still out go me, and dost make All my endeavours poor in the requital Of thy large favours, but I forget my self. Sweet bid my friend here welcome, this is he That I dare trust next mine own hearth with secrets. But why art thou disguised thus. Even now me thinks I stand as I would wish With all my wealth about me, such a love And such a friend, what can be added more To make a man live happy, thou dark grove That hast been called the seat of Melancholy, And shelter for the discontented spirits; Sure thou art wrong, thou seemest to me a place Of solace and content, a Paradise That givest me more then ever Court could do Or richest Palace, blessed be thy fair shades, Let birds of music ever chant it here, No croaking Raven, or ill booding Owl Make here their baleful hahitation Frighting thy walks, but mayest thou be a grove Where loves fair Queen may take delight to sport: For under thee two faithful Lovers meet, Why is my fair Leucothoe so sad. Whither sweet. Then lets remove, but prithee be not sad. What noise is that. O fear not Love. draw. Thieves, Villains. First take my life. O where will sorrow stay, Is there no end in grief or in my death Not punishment enough for my offence, But must her grief be added to afflict me; Dry up those Pearls dearest Leucothoe, Or thou wilt make me doubly miserable, Preserve that life, that I may after death Live in my better partly, take comfort deer, People would curse me, if such beauty should For me miscarry, no, live happy thou, And let me suffer what the law inflicts. Spare that labour, I do confess the fact that I am charged with, And speak as much as my accusers can, As much as all the witnesses can prove, It I that stole away the Daughter and Heir Of the Lord Polimetes, which Wertenberg to do again Rather then loose her, I again would venture, This was the fact, your sentence honoured father's. Which I embrace with willingness, now my Lord, to Pol. Is your hate glutted yet, or is my life Too poor a sacrifice to appease the rancour Of your inveterate malice, if it be to Invent some scandal that may after blot My reputation, father dry your tears, Weep not for me, my death shall leave no stain Upon your blood, nor blot on your fair name The honoured ashes of my ancestors May still rest quiet in their tear wet Urns For any fact of mine, I might have lived If heaven had not prevented it, and found Death for some foul dishonourable act. Brother farewell, no sooner have I found to Francisco But I must leave thy wished for company. Farewell my dearest love, live thou still happy, And may some one of more desert then I, Be blessed in the enjoying what I lose, I need not wish him happiness that has thee, For bring it may he prove as good worthy. And I, I thank your Lordship. Thanks good my Lord. A life my Liege, That shall be ever ready to be spent Upon your service. Hoy day, What in love Clerimont, I lay my life 'tis so, Thou couldst not praise her with such passion else. Well, I would see her once, Wertenberg but to try thy judgement Cleremont. Come, And such a Angel call, I should forget All Offices of Nature, all that men Wish in their second thoughts, ere such a duty Commend my service to her, and to you My thanks for this kind Message. exit Psecas. I never breathed till now, never till now now Did my life relish sweetness, break not heart, Crack not ye feeble Ministers of nature With inundation of such swelling joy, To great to bear without expression: The Lady writes that she has known me long By sighed, and loved me, and she seems to thank Her stars she loves, and is beloved again, She speak my very thoughts, by heaven 'tis strange And happy when affections thus can meet; She further writes at such and hour to day, Her father's absence, and all household spi S Fitly removed, shall give access to me Unmarked to visit her, where she alone Will entertain discourse and welcome me. I hope 'tis truly meant, why should I fear, But wisdom bids me fear: fie, fie, 'tis base, To wrong a creature of that excellence, With such suspicion I should injure her, I will as soon suspect and angel false, Treason near lodged within so fair a breast, No, if her hand betray me, I will will run On any danger, 'tis alike to me To die, or find her false, for on her truth Hangs my chief being, well I'll loose no time No not a minute, dearest love I come, To meet my sweetest wishes I will fly, Heaven and my truth, shield me from treachery. Exit. And know fair Mistress you have met a love, That time, nor fate, nor death can ever change, A man that but in you can have no being: Let this kiss seal my faith. Best of all, would it this present hour, I'll go prepare, but shall I call thee here. Delaye's a double death, no I have thought A means, that straight I'll put in execution, I'll write a Letter to her presently, Take how it will. I'll tell thee when I have done, hast thou Pen and Ink in thy Chamber.