PHILIP

Pause, gracious father. Philip thy son humbly desires a peace. Let not my father sheathe his warlike sword Within the bowels of his Countrymen. We will not rise from this submissive ground, Till we obtain, if not a peace, a truce. I love the daughter of thine enemy, Fair Bellamira hath inthrald my heart. On what adventure goes Prince Ferdinand? On the Like voyage are my Fortune's bound, I go to win thy sister. In this air breathes mine. Prince Ferdinand, if these cross loves Enjoy a wished success, peace here shall dwell. True. Would, Burbon. With my sword, I'll prove my love unfeigned, thee a false Lord. Now by S. Denis— Burbon, she is mine. Were it to search the furthest Northern climb, Where frosty Hyems with and ycy Mace, Strikes dead all living things, Idem find it out, And borrowing fire from those fair sunny eyes, Thaw Winter's frost, and warm that dead cold climb: But this impose is nothing, honoured King, I'll to my father, and conduct him hither: For while my soul is parted from her sighed, This earth is hell, this day a tedious night. Come Rodorick, you shall bear me company. Where is fair Bellamira? Me thinks, this royal presence hath dim looks: Is it because they are in the arms of night, Which sets a leaden lustre on the eye? Or hath some accident occoasted them, That troubles their aspect with melancholy? Is Navarre well? is Ferdinando well? Is Pembroke well? Is Bellamira well? Oh, where is Bellamira? tell me, Princes, For now my tongue hath strook upon her name. I feel a kind of killing ecstasy. Where is she? in her Tent? I say not so. The garments that she wears, mine eye should know. What Lady's this that hides her heavenly face? Here are no Basilisks with killing eyes: You needs not hide your beauty: sweet, look up, Me thinks I have and interest in these looks. What's here, a Leper amongst Noble men? What creatures this? why stays she in this place? O, 'tis no marvel though she hide her face: For 'tis infectuous: let her leave the presence, Or Leprosy will cleave unto us all. My Bellamira! Is this my love? was this your beauteous child? Threaten not, Leave the revenge to me whom it concerns, 'Tis I am robbed of a delicious look, A heavenly sparkling brow, a starry eye, A countenance fairer then Aurora's looks, When all the East is guilded with her blush. 'Tis I will be revenged: but not before I have espoused my lovely Bellamira. Be they incurable, it is my Love, And for my sake she hath endured this wrong And, should I now forsake her thus distressed, I could not merit a true Lovers name. To show I love her, I will marry her, Before the month expire: nay in the morn: Delays, perchance, may make her think I scorn. Sweet Love, prepare thee to be Philips Bride: For here I swear, as I am royal born, I'll marry thee, before the morning's Sun Hath run the third partly of his glorious course. Father, good night: deer friends, deer Love, good night: Marriage, I hope, will make my spirits more light. Bellamira, my lives joy, Upon those pinnyons that support her flight, Hovers my heart, you bear away my soul. Turn, turn again, and give this earthly frame Essential power, which for thine absence die: Thou art the sweet of sweets, the joy of joys: For thee was Philip born. Oh turn again, And Philip is the blessedest of men. Oh, she was worthy to be Queen of heaven. Her beauty, ever it suffered violence, Was Like the Sun in his Meridian Throne, Too splendant for weak eyes to gaze upon. She was too bright before, till being hid Under that envious cloud, it took the place Of a dark ground, to show a louelyer face. That Leprosy in her seemed perfect beauty: And she did . With virtue, which no calumnious breath Could ever soil, true virtues die is such, That malice cannot stain, nor envy tuch. Then say not but her worth surmou ̄ ts these woes. Burbon? who names him? that same verbal found Is Like a thunder clap to Philips ears, Frighting my very soul. Sure, you said, Burbon, And to that prodigy you joined revenge: Revenge, that Like a shadow follows him. 'Twas he that made me bankrout of all bliss, Sued the divorce of that pure white and read, Which decked my Bellamiraes lovely cheeks: And shall he escape unpunished? Not for the world: who prosecutes his hare On Burbon, injures me: I am his foe, And none but I will work his overthrow. To hunt him for revenge. The darkest angle of this universe, Shall not contain him through the bounded world: I'll prosecute his flight with ceaseless steps: And when long travel makes them dull or faint, Baiting them fresh with Bellamiraes wrongs, Like Eagles they shall cut the flaxen air, And in and instant bring me where he is. To hell, so that in that kingdom, Fate would assertayne me to meet with Burbon. Where ever I confront him, this shall kill him. No aid, but this strong arm. Farewell, farewell. Since Bellamira hath for sooke her friend, I seek destruction (Burbon) and What voice is that presumest to bid me stand? By this bright air reflecteth on my sword, If the whole Army of Navarre had said As much to Philip, yet he would not stand. And thou but one, how darest thou proffer it, Knowing how sharp a Spur does prick me on, The death of Burbon for my Bellamire? The Hearse of Ferdinand! I honour him, He was the brother of my dearest Love, What's this I see? my father's battered shield! The shield of France! of Flanders! Burbons too! It can not then impeach or prejudice The name of Philip, to consort with such, Especially being done for Ferdinand. There is my shield: and Knight, but for my haste, I would expostulate of other things: But after traitorous Burbon I have slain, Knight, look for me, isle visit thee again. Now Rodorick, keep thy word, and I am blessed: But if thou fail, isle forward with the rest. Rodoricke, thou highly fauourest me in this, And doubt not, if my complot take effect, I'll make thee Duke of Burbon. They can not know me, I am so disguised. Touch them not, Rodorick, prithee let them stand. Away my Lord, leave me unto the Duke. The reason that the platform you would make, Must by this hand be written with thy blood. One that's as desperat-carelesse of his life, As thou art timorous, and fearest to die. If I should say no, This weapon would condemn me, which I seized Of purpose, Burbon, to bereave thy life. I know it, Burbon, and I know beside, What thou wouldst say, to daunt my resolution. Why, that this place is death, As being thy Tent, environed with thy slaves; Where if I kill thee, 'tis impossible To escape with life: this, Burbon, thou wouldst say: But Philip is not to be moved with words. I Philip, Bellamiraes Love, Whose beauty, villain, thou hast poisoned: For which I have vowed thy death, and thou shalt die. Therefore betake you to what fence you will, Amongst this bundle choose one weapon forth, And Like a worthy Duke prepare thy self, In knightly manner to defend thy life: For I will fight with thee, and kill thee too, Or thou shalt give and end unto my life. But if thou call unto thy slaves for help, Burbon, my sword shall nail thee to the wall And think Prince Philip is a Prince indeed, To give thee this advantage for thy life. Come on. Peace, Rodorick, I am Philip thy deer friend. Didst not thou guide me unto Burbons Tent? He that first ventures to attach my life, Let him be sure he hath a life to spare: For I will send one breathless to the graven. Earl of Pembroke! Two lives I owe my stars, beside mine own, In sending me two friends of such import. Durst you adventure thorough the enemies Camp, And put your lives in danger to save mine? That Rodorick is a perfect villain turned: For though he guided me unto his Tent, And gave his liking that the Duke should die; Yet how the villain cried to murder me. But come, in this confusion let's be gone, 'Tis dangerous to abide in Burbons Tent. Rodoricke, thou art the next must taste of death: That task once done, we shall with little pain, Our angry father's reconcile again. Those that wish you and France bright fame's en crease. So you would chase hence war, and welcome peace. Stand, or never stir again. Are you grown insolent? For one light puff of fortune proves it so Nay, then our swords turn to your overthrow. You did as much to mine. Philip is not last. Yet though I seek the safety of my friends, Rodorick shall loose his blood, ever this fight ends. Stay, warlike friends, and aid me in revenge. Who lifts his arm at him, strikes at my breast. To show thee thou must die. Practised my death. Now as you love my love, or prize mine honour. Touch not the Traitor, he is Philips foe; And none but I must work his overthrow. Thrice in the battle he was rescued from me: But now he's fallen into the Lyons paw, From whence the whole world cannot ransom him. Preservers of my life, heroic friends, Be you my safety, keep the Soldiers off, While in the amid by fair and equal fight, I send this Traitor to eternal night. Rodorick, thou seest, all ways are stopped to fly, Be desperate then, fight-brauely, and so die. Now are his treacheries repaid with death: Philip and Pembroke, found your retreats With better hope; in him all hatred ends: The kings will now love peace, & soon be friends. Who can accuse him? Were the whole world joined in so false a thing, Alone Idem combat all, and clear the King. That deed of shame Cut off his life, and raced out Burbons name. Bear not that hard opinion: Rodoricks tongue Slandered that Prince, and did his virtue wrong. My deer sister! Even with my soul: for ever live you blessed. O Bellamira, had not cursed Burbon, For beauty robbed thy cheeks with Leprosy: Hadst thou but stayed with me, as is their state, So had been mine, happy and fortunate. I am the man thou seekest. With me? whom see I? Bellamira! Do not deride my woes, speak, speak, I pray. Why speak you not? what, have I touched the string, Whereon the burden of your sorrow lies? Father, look round about, see you my love? Rodoricke, look round about, see you my love? Thinkest thou, because thy face is spotted so, Thou art not worthy of thy Philips love? Thy face to me was but a Marshal, To lodge thy sacred person in my mind, Which long ago is surely chambered there: And now what needs and outward Harbinger? I do affect, not superficially: My love extendeth further then the skin. The inward Bellamira 'tis I seek, And unto her will Philip be epousde.