Phi. I am what I desire to be, your friend; I am what I was born to be, your prince.

106

110

Pha. Sir, there is some humanity in you;
You have a noble soul. Forget my name,
And know my misery; set me safe aboard
From these wild cannibals, and as I live,
I'll quit this land for ever. There is nothing,-
Perpetual prisonment, cold, hunger, sickness
Of all sorts, of all dangers, and all together,
The worst company of the worst men, madness,
age,

To be as many creatures as a woman,
And do as all they do, nay, to despair, —
But I would rather make it a new nature,
And live with all these, than endure one hour
Amongst these wild dogs.
Phi. I do pity you.
fears;

1 Hornless animal.

115

Friends, discharge your

120

Kind gentleman! I will not break the least word I have given In promise to him. I have heap'd a world Of grief upon his head, which yet I hope To wash away.

Enter PHILASTER and PHARAMOND.

Let them appease thee. Take thy right; take her;

She is thy right too; and forget to urge
My vexed soul with that I did before.
Phi. Sir, it is blotted from my memory,

15

Are. This earth, how false it is! What means is left for me

To clear myself? It lies in your belief.
My lords, believe me; and let all things else
Struggle together to dishonour me.

Bel. Oh, stop your ears, great King, that I may speak

45

As freedom would! Then I will call this lady
As base as are her actions. Hear me, sir;
Believe your heated blood when it rebels
Against your reason, sooner than this lady.
Meg. By this good light, he bears it hand-
somely.

Phi. This lady! I will sooner trust the wind
With feathers, or the troubled sea with pearl,
Than her with any thing. Believe her not.
Why, think you, if I did believe her words,
I would outlive 'em? Honour cannot take
Revenge on you; then what were to be known
But death?

50

85

Swear to be true co

By the powers above,

Let it not be the death of her or him,

And it is granted!

Bear away that boy

King. To torture; I will have her clear'd or buried. Phi. Oh, let me call my word back, worthy sir! Ask something else: bury my life and right 66 In one poor grave; but do not take away My life and fame at once.

King. Away with him! It stands irrevocable. Phi. Turn all your eyes on me. Here stands

You know, just gods, though I discover all. King. How's that? Will he confess? Dion.

King. Speak then. Bel.

Sir, so he says.

Great King, if you command This lord to talk with me alone, my tongue Urg'd by my heart, shall utter all the thoughts My youth hath known; and stranger things

than these

You hear not often. King.

Walk aside with him. [DION and BELLARIO walk apart.,

Dion. Why speak'st thou not?

Bel.

Dion. No. Bel.

Know you this face, my lord?

Have you not seen it, nor the like? Dion. Yes, I have seen the like, but readily I know not where.

In some barbarous countries, it was believed that the murderer inherited the form and qualities of his victim. (Mason.)

I have a power to pardon sins, as oft

140

145

As any man has power to wrong me.
Cle. Noble and worthy!
Phi.
But, Bellario,
(For I must call thee still so,) tell me why
Thou didst conceal thy sex. It was a fault,
A fault, Bellario, though thy other deeds
Of truth outweigh'd it: all these jealousies
Had flown to nothing if thou hadst discovered
What now we know.

Bel.
My father oft would speak 150
Your worth and virtue; and, as I did grow
More and more apprehensive,1 I did thirst
To see the man so prais'd. But yet all this
Was but a maiden-longing, to be lost

As soon as found; till, sitting in my window, 155
Printing my thoughts in lawn, I saw a god,
I thought, (but it was you,) enter our gates.
My blood flew out and back again, as fast
As I had puft it forth and snekt it in
Like breath. Then was I call'd away in haste
1 Quick to understand.

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165

170

To entertain you. Never was a man,
Heav'd from a sheep-cote to a sceptre, rais'd
So high in thoughts as I. You left a kiss
Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep
From you for ever. I did hear you talk,
Far above singing. After you were gone,
I grew acquainted with my heart, and search'd
What stirr'd it so: alas, I found it love!
Yet far from lust; for, could I but have liv'd
In presence of you, I had had my end.
For this I did delude my noble father
With a feign'd pilgrimage, and drest myself
In habit of a boy; and, for I knew
My birth no match for you, I was past hope
Of having you; and, understanding well
That when I made discovery of my sex
I could not stay with you, I made a vow,
By all the most religious things a maid
Could call together, never to be known,
Whilst there was hope to hide me from men's
eyes,

For other than I seem'd, that I might ever
Abide with you. Then sat I by the fount,
Where first you took me up.

King.

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180

Search out a match Within our kingdom, where and when thou wilt, And I will pay thy dowry; and thyself Wilt well deserve him.

185

But, if I may have leave to serve the princess,
To see the virtues of her lord and her,
I shall have hope to live.

190

Are. I, Philaster, Cannot be jealous, though you had a lady Drest like a page to serve you; nor will Suspect her living here.- Come, live with me; Live free as I do, She that loves my lord, Curst be the wife that hates her!

195

We'll take your word.

Lys. Strato, thou hast some skill in poetry; 5 What think'st thou of the masque? Will it be well?

Stra. As well as masques can be.
Lys.
As masques can be!
Stra. Yes; they must commend their king,
and speak in praise

Of the assembly, bless the bride and bridegroom
In person of some god; they're tied to rules 10
Of flattery.
Cle.

See, good my lord, who is return'd!
Enter MELANTIUS.

Lys. Noble Melantius, the land by me
Welcomes thy virtues home to Rhodes;
Thou that with blood abroad buyest our peace!
The breath of kings is like the breath of
gods;

15

My brother wisht thee here, and thou art here.
He will be too kind, and weary thee
With often welcomes; but the time doth give

thee

It ever was to you: where I find worth,
I love the keeper till he let it go,
And then I follow it.

Diph.

Hail, worthy brother! " He that rejoices not at your return In safety is mine enemy for ever.

Mel. I thank thee, Diphilus. But thou art faulty:

I sent for thee to exercise thine arms

With me at Patria; thou cam'st not, Diphilus; 'T was ill.

Diph. My noble brother, my excuse Is my king's strict command, which you, my lord,

Can witness with me.

Lys. 'Tis most true, Melantius; He might not come till the solemnities Of this great match were past.

Diph.

Have you heard of it? s

Mel. Yes, and have given cause to those that here

Envy my deeds abroad to call me gamesome:
I have no other business here at Rhodes.
Lys. We have a masque to-night, and you
must tread

A soldier's measure.

40

Mel. These soft and silken wars are not for

Diph.

This day.

Mel. All joys upon him! for he is my friend. Wonder not that I call a man so young my

friend:

40

His worth is great; valiant he is and temper

ate;

And one that never thinks his life his own, If his friend need it. When he was a boy, As oft as I return'd (as, without boast,

I brought home conquest), he would gaze upon

me

55

And view me round, to find in what one limb The virtue lay to do these things he heard Then would he wish to see my sword, and feel The quickness of the edge, and in his hand Weigh it. He oft would make me smile at this. His youth did promise much, and his ripe years Will see it all perform'd.

Enter ASPATIA, passing by.

Hail, maid and wife! Thou fair Aspatia, may the holy knot That thou hast tied to-day last till the hand 60 Of age undo 't! May'st thou bring a race Unto Amintor, that may fill the world Successively with soldiers!

Asp. My hard fortunes Deserve not scorn, for I was never proud

When they were good.

Exit.

You are mistaken, sir; 65

Mel. Lys.

How's this?

The King, my brother, did it To honour you; and these solemnities Are at his charge.

Mel. 'Tis royal, like himself. But I am sad My speech bears so unfortunate a sound To beautiful Aspatia. There is rage Hid in her father's breast, Calianax,

80

85

Bent long against me; and he should not think,
If I could call it back, that I would take
So base revenges, as to scorn the state
Of his neglected daughter. Holds he still
His greatness with the King?

Lys.
Yes. But this lady
Walks discontented, with her watery eyes
Bent on the earth. The unfrequented woods
Are her delight; where, when she sees a bank
Stuck full of flowers, she with a sigh will tell 91
Her servants what a pretty place it were
To bury lovers in; and make her maids
Pluck 'em, and strow her over like a corse.
She carries with her an infectious grief,
That strikes all her beholders: she will sing
The mournful'st things that ever ear hath
heard,

And sigh, and sing again; and when the rest

95

1 So Q. Q1 above. The choice of reading depends on whether her refers to Aspatia or Evadne.

Of our young ladies, in their wanton blood,
Tell mirthful tales in course,2 that fill the room
With laughter, she will, with so sad a look, 101
Bring forth a story of the silent death

Of some forsaken virgin, which her grief
Will put in such a phrase that, ere she end,
She'll send them weeping one by one away. 105
Mel. She has a brother under my command,3
Like her; a face as womanish as hers;
But with a spirit that hath much outgrown
The number of his years.

Cle.

Enter AMINTOR.

111

My lord the bridegroom! Mel. I might run fiercely, not more hastily, Upon my foe. I love thee well, Amintor; My mouth is much too narrow for my heart; I joy to look upon those eyes of thine; Thou art my friend, but my disordered speech Cuts off my love. Thou art Melantius; All love is spoke in that. A sacrifice, To thank the gods Melantius is return'd In safety! Victory sits on his sword,

Amin.

115

As she was wont. May she build there and dwell;

And may thy armour be, as it hath been,
Only thy valour and thine innocence!

120

What endless treasures would our enemies give,
That I might hold thee still thus !
Mel.

I am poor

In words; but credit me, young man, thy mother

124

Could do no more but weep for joy to see thee
After long absence. All the wounds I have
Fetcht not so much away, nor all the cries
Of widowed mothers. But this is peace,
And that was war.
Amin.

Pardon, thou holy god
Of marriage-bed, and frown not, I am forc'd,
In answer of such noble tears as those,
To weep upon my wedding-day!

131

Mel. I fear thou art grown too fickle; for I hear

A lady mourns for thee, men say, to death, Forsaken of thee, on what terms I know not. Amin. She had my promise; but the King forbad it,

136