Philaster; Or, Love Lies a Bleeding
Phi. False Arethusa! Hast thou a Medicine to restore my wits, When I have lost 'em? If not, leave to talk, and do thus.
Are. Do what Sir? would you sleep?Phi. For ever Arethusa. Oh you gods, Give me a worthy patience; Have I stood Naked, alone the shock of many fortunes? Have I seen mischiefs numberless, and mighty Grow li[k]e a sea upon me? Have I taken Danger as stern as death into my bosom, And laught upon it, made it but a mirth, And flung it by? Do I live now like him, Under this Tyrant King, that languishing Hears his sad Bell, and sees his Mourners? Do I Bear all this bravely, and must sink at length Under a womans falshood? Oh that boy, That cursed boy? None but a villain boy, to ease your lust?Are. Nay, then I am betray'd, I feel the plot cast for my overthrow; Oh I am wretched.Phi. 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 womankind durst set her foot, For bursting with her poisons, must I seek, And live to curse you; There dig a Cave, and preach to birds and beasts, What woman is, and help to save them from you. How heaven is in your eyes, but in your hearts, More hell than hell has; how your tongues like Scorpions, Both heal and poyson; how your thoughts are woven With thousand changes in one subtle webb, And worn so by you. How that foolish man, That reads the story of a womans face, And dies 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, Past and forgotten. How your vows are frosts, Fast for a night, and with the next sun gone. How you are, being taken all together, A meer confusion, and so dead a Chaos, That love cannot distinguish. These sad Texts Till my last hour, I am bound to utter of you. So farewel all my wo, all my delight.[Exit Phi.
Are. Be merciful ye gods and strike me dead; What way have I deserv'd this? make my breast Transparent as pure Crystal, that the world Jealous of me, may see the foulest thought My heart holds. Where shall a woman turn her eyes, To find out constancy? Save me, how black,[Enter Bell.
And guilty (me thinks) that boy looks now? Oh thou dissembler, that before thou spak'st Wert in thy cradle false? sent to make lies, And betray Innocents; thy Lord and thou, May glory in the ashes of a Maid Fool'd by her passion; but the conquest is Nothing so great as wicked. Fly away, Let my command force thee to that, which shame Would do without it. If thou understoodst The loathed Office thou hast undergone, Why, thou wouldst hide thee under heaps of hills, Lest men should dig and find thee.Bell. Oh what God Angry with men, hath sent this strange disease Into the noblest minds? Madam this grief You add unto me is no more than drops To seas, for which they are not seen to swell; My Lord had struck his anger through my heart, And let out all the hope of future joyes, You need not bid me fly, I came to part, To take my latest leave, Farewel for ever; I durst not run away in honesty, From such a Lady, like a boy that stole, Or made some grievous fault; the power of gods Assist you in your sufferings; hasty time Reveal the truth to your abused Lord, And mine: That he may know your worth: whilst I Go seek out some forgotten place to die.[Exit Bell.
Are. Peace guide thee, th'ast overthrown me once, Yet if I had another Troy to lose, Thou or another villain with thy looks, Might talk me out of it, and send me naked, My hair dishevel'd through the fiery streets.[ Enter a Lady
La. Madam, the King would hunt, and calls for you With earnestness.
Are. I am in tune to hunt! Diana if thou canst rage with a maid, As with a man, let me discover thee Bathing, and turn me to a fearful Hind, That I may die pursu'd by cruel Hounds, And have my story written in my wounds.
[ExeuntActus Quartus. Scena Prima
Enter King, Pharamond, Arethusa, Galatea, Megra,
Dion, Cleremont, Thrasilin, and Attendants.K. What, are the Hounds before, and all the woodmen? Our horses ready, and our bows bent?Di. All Sir.King. Y'are cloudy Sir, come we have forgotten Your venial trespass, let not that sit heavy Upon your spirit; none dare utter it.Di. He looks like an old surfeited Stallion after his leaping, dull as a Dormouse: see how he sinks; the wench has shot him between wind and water, and I hope sprung a leak.Thra. He needs no teaching, he strikes sure enough; his greatest fault is, he Hunts too much in the Purlues, would he would leave off Poaching.Di. And for his horn, has left it at the Lodge where he lay late; Oh, he's a precious Lime-hound; turn him loose upon the pursuit of a Lady, and if he lose her, hang him up i'th' slip. When my Fox-bitch Beauty grows proud, I'le borrow him.
King. Is your Boy turn'd away?Are. You did command Sir, and I obey you.King. 'Tis well done: Hark ye further.Cle. Is't possible this fellow should repent? Me thinks that were not noble in him: and yet he looks like a mortified member, as if he had a sick mans Salve in's mouth. If a worse man had done this fault now, some Physical Justice or other, would presently (without the help of an Almanack) have opened the obstructions of his Liver, and let him bloud with a Dog-whip.
Di. See, see, how modestly your Lady looks, as if she came from Churching with her Neighbour; why, what a Devil can a man see in her face, but that she's honest?Pha. Troth no great matter to speak of, a foolish twinkling with the eye, that spoils her Coat; but he must be a cunning Herald that finds it.Di. See how they Muster one another! O there's a Rank Regiment where the Devil carries the Colours, and his Dam Drum major, now the world and the flesh come behind with the Carriage.
Cle. Sure this Lady has a good turn done her against her will: before she was common talk, now none dare say, Cantharides can stir her, her face looks like a Warrant, willing and commanding all Tongues, as they will answer it, to be tied up and bolted when this Lady means to let her self loose. As I live she has got her a goodly protection, and a gracious; and may use her body discreetly, for her healths sake, once a week, excepting Lent and Dog-days: Oh if they were to be got for mony, what a great sum would come out of the City for these Licences?
King. To horse, to horse, we lose the morning, Gentlemen.[Exeunt.
Enter two Woodmen.
1 Wood.What, have you lodged the Deer?2 Wood. Yes, they are ready for the Bow.1 Wood. Who shoots?2 Wood. The Princess.1 Wood. No she'l Hunt.2 Wood. She'l take a Stand I say.1 Wood. Who else?2 Wood. Why the young stranger Prince.1 Wood. He shall Shoot in a Stone-bow for me. I never lov'd his beyond-sea-ship, since he forsook the Say, for paying Ten shillings: he was there at the fall of a Deer, and would needs (out of his mightiness) give Ten groats for the Dowcers; marry the Steward would have had the Velvet-head into the bargain, to Turf his Hat withal: I think he should love Venery, he is an old Sir Tristram; for if you be remembred, he forsook the Stagg once, to strike a Rascal Milking in a Medow, and her he kill'd in the eye. Who shoots else?
2 Wood. The Lady Galatea.1 Wood. That's a good wench, and she would not chide us for tumbling of her women in the Brakes. She's liberal, and by my Bow they say she's honest, and whether that be a fault, I have nothing to do. There's all?
2 Wood. No, one more, Megra.1 Wood. That's a firker I'faith boy; there's a wench will Ride her Haunces as hard after a Kennel of Hounds, as a Hunting-saddle; and when she comes home, get 'em clapt, and all is well again. I have known her lose her self three times in one Afternoon (if the Woods had been answerable) and it has been work enough for one man to find her, and he has sweat for it. She Rides well, and she payes well. Hark, let's go.
[Exeunt.
Enter Philaster.
Phi. Oh, that I had been nourished in these woods With Milk of Goats, and Acorns, and not known The right of Crowns, nor the dissembling Trains Of Womens looks; but dig'd my self a Cave, Where I, my Fire, my Cattel, and my Bed Might have been shut together in one shed; And then had taken me some Mountain Girl, Beaten with Winds, chast as the hardened Rocks Whereon she dwells; that might have strewed my Bed With leaves, and Reeds, and with the Skins of beasts Our Neighbours; and have born at her big breasts My large course issue. This had been a life free from vexation.[ Enter Bellario.
Bell. Oh wicked men! An innocent man may walk safe among beasts, Nothing assaults me here. See, my griev'd Lord Sits as his soul were searching out a way, To leave his body. Pardon me that must Break thy last commandment; For I must speak; You that are griev'd can pity; hear my Lord.Phi. Is there a Creature yet so miserable, That I can pity?Bell. Oh my Noble Lord, View my strange fortune, and bestow on me, According to your bounty (if my service Can merit nothing) so much as may serve To keep that little piece I hold of life From cold and hunger.Phi. Is it thou? be gone: Go sell those misbeseeming Cloaths thou wear'st, And feed thy self with them.Bell. Alas! my Lord, I can get nothing for them: The silly Country people think 'tis Treason To touch such gay things.Phi. Now by my life this is Unkindly done, to vex me with thy sight, Th'art fain again to thy dissembling trade: How should'st thou think to cozen me again? Remains there yet a plague untri'd for me? Even so thou wept'st and spok'st when first I took thee up; curse on the time. If thy Commanding tears can work on any other, Use thy art, I'le not betray it. Which way Wilt thou take, that I may shun thee; For thine eyes are poyson to mine; and I Am loth to grow in rage. This way, or that way?Bell. Any will serve. But I will chuse to have That path in chase that leads unto my grave.[Exeunt Phil. and Bell. severally.
Enter Dion and the Woodmen.
Di. This is the strangest sudden change! You Woodman.1 Wood. My Lord Dion.Di. Saw you a Lady come this way on a Sable-horse stubbed with stars of white?
2 Wood. Was she not young and tall?Di. Yes; Rode she to the wood, or to the plain?2 Wood. Faith my Lord we saw none.[Exeunt Wood.
Enter Cleremont.
Di. Pox of your questions then. What, is she found?Cle. Nor will be I think.Di. Let him seek his Daughter himself; she cannot stray about a little necessary natural business, but the whole Court must be in Arms; when she has done, we shall have peace.
Cle. There's already a thousand fatherless tales amongst us; some say her Horse run away with her; some a Wolf pursued her; others, it was a plot to kill her; and that Armed men were seen in the Wood: but questionless, she rode away willingly.
Enter King, and Thrasiline.
King. Where is she?Cle. Sir, I cannot tell.King. How is that? Answer me so again.Cle. Sir, shall I lie?King. Yes, lie and damn, rather than tell me that; I say again, where is she? Mutter not; Sir, speak you where is she?
Di. Sir, I do not know.King. Speak that again so boldly, and by Heaven It is thy last. You fellows answer me, Where is she? Mark me all, I am your King. I wish to see my Daughter, shew her me; I do command you all, as you are subjects, To shew her me, what am I not your King? If I, then am I not to be obeyed?Di. Yes, if you command things possible and honest.King. Things possible and honest! Hear me, thou, Thou Traytor, that darest confine thy King to things Possible and honest; shew her me, Or let me perish, if I cover not all Cicily with bloud.Di. Indeed I cannot, unless you tell me where she is.King. You have betray'd me, y'have, let me lose The Jewel of my life, go; bring her me, And set her before me; 'tis the King Will have it so, whose breath can still the winds, Uncloud the Sun, charm down the swelling Sea, And stop the Flouds of Heaven; speak, can it not?Di. No.King. No, cannot the breath of Kings do this?Di. No; nor smell sweet it self, if once the Lungs Be but corrupted.
King. Is it so? Take heed.Di. Sir, take you heed; how you dare the powers That must be just.King. Alas! what are we Kings? Why do you gods place us above the rest; To be serv'd, flatter'd, and ador'd till we Believe we hold within our hands your Thunder, And when we come to try the power we have, There's not a leaf shakes at our threatnings. I have sin'd 'tis true, and here stand to be punish'd; Yet would not thus be punish'd; let me chuse My way, and lay it on.Di. He Articles with the gods; would some body would draw bonds, for the performance of Covenants betwixt them.
Enter Pha. Galatea, and Megra.
King. What, is she found?Pha. No, we have ta'ne her Horse. He gallopt empty by: there's some Treason; You Galatea rode with her into the wood; why left you her?
Gal. She did command me.King. Command! you should not.Gal. 'Twould ill become my Fortunes and my Birth To disobey the Daughter of my King.King. Y'are all cunning to obey us for our hurt, But I will have her.Pha. If I have her not, By this hand there shall be no more Cicily.Di. What will he carry it to Spain in's pocket?Pha. I will not leave one man alive, but the King, A Cook and a Taylor.Di. Yet you may do well to spare your Ladies Bed-fellow, and her you may keep for a Spawner.King. I see the injuries I have done must be reveng'd.Di. Sir, this is not the way to find her out.King. Run all, disperse your selves: the man that finds her, Or (if she be kill'd) the Traytor; I'le [make] him great.
Di. I know some would give five thousand pounds to find her.Pha. Come let us seek.King. Each man a several way, here I my self.Di. Come Gentlemen we here.Cle. Lady you must go search too.Meg. I had rather be search'd my self.[Exeunt omnes.
Enter Arethusa.
Are. Where am I now? Feet find me out a way, Without the counsel of my troubled head, I'le follow you boldly about these woods, O're mountains, thorow brambles, pits, and flouds: Heaven I hope will ease me. I am sick.Enter Bellario.
Bell. Yonder's my Lady; Heaven knows I want nothing; Because I do not wish to live, yet I Will try her Charity. Oh hear, you that have plenty, From that flowing store, drop some on dry ground; see, The lively red is gone to guard her heart; I fear she faints. Madam look up, she breaths not; Open once more those rosie twins, and send Unto my Lord, your latest farewell; Oh, she stirs: How is it Madam? Speak comfort.Are. 'Tis not gently done, To put me in a miserable life, And hold me there; I pray thee let me go, I shall do best without thee; I am well.Enter Philaster.
Phil. I am to blame to be so much in rage, I'le tell her coolely, when and where I heard This killing truth. I will be temperate In speaking, and as just in hearing. Oh monstrous! Tempt me not ye gods, good gods Tempt not a frail man, what's he, that has a heart But he must ease it here?Bell. My Lord, help the Princess.Are. I am well, forbear.Phi. Let me love lightning, let me be embrac'd And kist by Scorpions, or adore the eyes Of Basilisks, rather than trust to tongues, And shrink these veins up; stick me here a stone Lasting to ages in the memory Of this damn'd act. Hear me you wicked ones, You have put the hills on fire into this breast, Not to be quench'd with tears, for which may guilt Sit on your bosoms; at your meals, and beds, Despair await you: what, before my face? Poyson of Aspes between your lips; Diseases Be your best issues; Nature make a Curse And throw it on you.Are. Dear Philaster, leave To be enrag'd, and hear me. Phi. I have done; Forgive my passion, not the calm'd sea, When Æolus locks up his windy brood, Is less disturb'd than I, I'le make you know it. Dear Arethusa, do but take this sword, And search how temperate a heart I have; Then you and this your boy, may live and raign In lust without control; Wilt thou Bellario? I prethee kill me; thou art poor, and maist Nourish ambitious thoughts, when I am dead: This way were freer; Am I raging now? If I were mad I should desire to live; Sirs, feel my pulse; whether have you known A man in a more equal tune to die?Bel. Alas my Lord, your pulse keeps madmans time, So does your tongue.Phi. You will not kill me then?Are. Kill you?Bell. Not for a world.Phi. I blame not thee, Bellario; thou hast done but that, which gods Would have transform'd themselves to do; be gone, Leave me without reply; this is the last Of all our meeting. Kill me with this sword; Be wise, or worse will follow: we are two Earth cannot bear at once. Resolve to do, or suffer.Are. If my fortunes be so good to let me fall Upon thy hand, I shall have peace in death. Yet tell me this, will there be no slanders, No jealousies in the other world, no ill there?Phi. No.Are. Shew me then the way.Phi. 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 it.Are. I am prepared.Enter a Country-fellow.
Coun. I'le see the King if he be in the Forest, I have hunted him these two hours; if I should come home and not see him my Sisters would laugh at me; I can see nothing but people better horst than my self, that outride me; I can hear nothing but shouting. These Kings had need of good brains, this whooping is able to put a mean man out of his wits. There's a Courtier with his sword drawn, by this hand upon a woman, I think.
Phi. Are you at peace?Are. With Heavens and Earth.Phi. May they divide thy soul and body?Coun. Hold dastard, strike a Woman! th'art a craven I warrant thee, thou wouldst be loth to play half a dozen of venies at wasters with a good fellow for a broken head.
Phi. Leave us good friend.Are. What ill bred man art thou, to intrude thy self Upon our private sports, our recreations?Coun. God 'uds, I understand you not, but I know the Rogue has hurt you.Phi. Pursue thy own affairs: it will be ill To multiply bloud upon my head; which thou wilt force me to.
Coun. I know not your Rhetorick, but I can lay it on if you touch the woman.
[They fight.
Phi. Slave, take what thou deservest.Are. Heavens guard my Lord.Coun. Oh do you breath?Phi. I hear the tread of people: I am hurt. The gods take part against me, could this Boor Have held me thus else? I must shift for life, Though I do loath it. I would find a course, To lose it, rather by my will than force.[Exit Phil.
Coun. I cannot follow the Rogue. I pray thee wench come and kiss me now.
Enter Phara. Dion, Cle. Thra. and Woodmen.
Pha. What art thou?Coun. Almost kil'd I am for a foolish woman; a knave has hurt her.Pha. The Princess Gentlemen! Where's the wound Madam? Is it dangerous?Are. He has not hurt me.Coun. I'faith she lies, has hurt her in the breast, look else.Pha. O sacred spring of innocent blood!Di. 'Tis above wonder! who should dare this?Are. I felt it not.Pha. Speak villain, who has hurt the Princess?Coun. Is it the Princess?Di. I.Coun. Then I have seen something yet.Pha. But who has hurt her?Coun. I told you a Rogue I ne're saw him before, I.Pha. Madam who did it?Are. Some dishonest wretch, Alas I know him not, And do forgive him.Coun. He's hurt too, he cannot go far, I made my Fathers old Fox flie about his ears.
Pha. How will you have me kill him?Are. Not at all, 'tis some distracted fellow.Pha. By this hand, I'le leave ne'er a piece of him bigger than a Nut, and bring him all in my Hat.
Are. Nay, good Sir; If you do take him, bring him quick to me, And I will study for a punishment, Great as his fault.Pha. I will.Are. But swear.Pha. By all my love I will: Woodmen conduct the Princess to the King, and bear that wounded fellow to dressing: Come Gentlemen, we'l follow the chase close.
