Di. H'as given him a general purge already, for all the right he has, and now he means to let him blood: Be constant Gentlemen; by these hilts I'le run his hazard, although I run my name out of the Kingdom.
Cle. Peace, we are one soul.
Pha. What you have seen in me, to stir offence,
I cannot find, unless it be this Lady
Offer'd into mine arms, with the succession,
Which I must keep though it hath pleas'd your fury
To mutiny within you; without disputing
Your Genealogies, or taking knowledge
Whose branch you are. The King will leave it me;
And I dare make it mine; you have your answer.
Phi. If thou wert sole inheritor to him,
That made the world his; and couldst see no sun
Shine upon any but thine: were Pharamond
As truly valiant, as I feel him cold,
And ring'd among the choicest of his friends,
Such as would blush to talk such serious follies,
Or back such bellied commendations,
And from this present, spight of all these bugs,
You should hear further from me.
King. Sir, you wrong the Prince:
I gave you not this freedom to brave our best friends,
You deserve our frown: go to, be better temper'd.
Phi. It must be Sir, when I am nobler us'd.
Gal. Ladyes,
This would have been a pattern of succession,
Had he ne're met this mischief. By my life,
He is the worthiest the true name of man
This day within my knowledge.
Meg. I cannot tell what you may call your knowledge,
But the other is the man set in mine eye;
Oh! 'tis a Prince of wax.
Gal. A Dog it is.
King. Philaster, tell me,
The injuries you aim at in your riddles.
Phi. If you had my eyes Sir, and sufferance,
My griefs upon you and my broken fortunes,
My want's great, and now nought but hopes and fears,
My wrongs would make ill riddles to be laught at.
Dare you be still my King and right me not?
King. Give me your wrongs in private.
[They whisper.
Phi. Take them, and ease me of a load would bow strong Atlas.
Di. He dares not stand the shock.
Di. I cannot blame, him, there's danger in't. Every man in this age, has not a soul of Crystal for all men to read their actions through: mens hearts and faces are so far asunder, that they hold no intelligence. Do but view yon stranger well, and you shall see a Feaver through all his bravery, and feel him shake like a true Tenant; if he give not back his Crown again, upon the report of an Elder Gun, I have no augury.
King. Go to:
Be more your self, as you respect our favour:
You'I stir us else: Sir, I must have you know
That y'are and shall be at our pleasure, what fashion we
Will put upon you: smooth your brow, or by the gods.
Phi. I am dead Sir, y'are my fate: it was not I
Said I was not wrong'd: I carry all about me,
My weak stars led me to all my weak fortunes.
Who dares in all this presence speak (that is
But man of flesh and may be mortal) tell me
I do not most intirely love this Prince,
And honour his full vertues!
King. Sure he's possest.
Phi. Yes, with my Fathers spirit; It's here O King!
A dangerous spirit; now he tells me King,
I was a Kings heir, bids me be a King,
And whispers to me, these be 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'le suppress him, he's a factious spirit,
And will undo me: noble Sir, [your] hand, I am your
servant.
King. Away, I do not like this:
I'le make you tamer, or I'le dispossess you
Both of life and spirit: For this time
I pardon your wild speech, without so much
As your imprisonment.
[Ex. King, Pha. and Are.
Di. I thank you Sir, you dare not for the people.
Gal. Ladies, what think you now of this brave fellow?
Meg. A pretty talking fellow, hot at hand; but eye yon stranger, is not he a fine compleat Gentleman? O these strangers, I do affect them strangely: they do the rarest home things, and please the fullest! as I live, could love all the Nation over and over for his sake.
Gal. Pride comfort your poor head-piece Lady: 'tis a weak one, and had need of a Night-cap.
Di. See how his fancy labours, has he not spoke
Home, and bravely? what a dangerous train
Did he give fire to! How he shook the King,
Made his soul melt within him, and his blood
Run into whay! it stood upon his brow,
Like a cold winter dew.
Phi. Gentlemen,
You have no suit to me? I am no minion:
You stand (methinks) like men that would be Courtiers,
If you could well be fiatter'd at a price,
Not to undo your Children: y'are all honest:
Go get you home again, and make your Country
A vertuous Court, to which your great ones may,
In their Diseased age, retire, and live recluse.
Cle. How do you worthy Sir?
Phi. Well, very well;
And so well, that if the King please, I find
I may live many years.
Di. The King must please,
Whilst we know what you are, and who you are,
Your wrongs and [injuries]: shrink not, worthy Sir,
But add your Father to you: in whose name,
We'll waken all the gods, and conjure up
The rods of vengeance, the abused people,
Who like to raging torrents shall swell high,
And so begirt the dens of these Male-dragons,
That through the strongest safety, they shall beg
For mercy at your swords point.
Phi. Friends, no more,
Our years may he corrupted: 'Tis an age
We dare not trust our wills to: do you love me?
Thra. Do we love Heaven and honour?
Phi. My Lord Dion, you had
A vertuous Gentlewoman call'd you Father;
Is she yet alive?
Di. Most honour'd Sir, she is:
And for the penance but of an idle dream,
Has undertook a tedious Pilgrimage.
[ Enter a Lady.
Gal. Pride comfort your poor head-piece Lady: 'tis a weak one, and had need of a Night-cap.
Di. See how his fancy labours, has he not spoke
Home, and bravely? what a dangerous train
Did he give fire to! How he shook the King,
Made his soul melt within him, and his blood
Run into whay! it stood upon his brow,
Like a cold winter dew.
Phi. Gentlemen,
You have no suit to me? I am no minion:
You stand (methinks) like men that would be Courtiers,
If you could well be fiatter'd at a price,
Not to undo your Children: y'are all honest:
Go get you home again, and make your Country
A vertuous Court, to which your great ones may,
In their Diseased age, retire, and live recluse.
Cle. How do you worthy Sir?
Phi. Well, very well;
And so well, that if the King please, I find
I may live many years.
Di. The King must please,
Whilst we know what you are, and who you are,
Your wrongs and [injuries]: shrink not, worthy Sir,
But add your Father to you: in whose name,
We'll waken all the gods, and conjure up
The rods of vengeance, the abused people,
Who like to raging torrents shall swell high,
And so begirt the dens of these Male-dragons,
That through the strongest safety, they shall beg
For mercy at your swords point.
Phi. Friends, no more,
Our years may he corrupted: 'Tis an age
We dare not trust our wills to: do you love me?
Thra. Do we love Heaven and honour?
Phi. My Lord Dion, you had
A vertuous Gentlewoman call'd you Father;
Is she yet alive?
Di. Most honour'd Sir, she is:
And for the penance but of an idle dream,
Has undertook a tedious Pilgrimage.
[ Enter a Lady.
Phi. Is it to me, or any of these Gentlemen you come?
La. To you, brave Lord; the Princess would intreat Your present company.
Phi. The Princess send for me! y'are mistaken.
La. If you be call'd Philaster, 'tis to you.
Phi. Kiss her hand, and say I will attend her.
Di. Do you know what you do?
Phi. Yes, go to see a woman.
Cle. But do you weigh the danger you are in?
Phi. Danger in a sweet face?
By Jupiter I must not fear a woman.
Thra. But are you sure it was the Princess sent?
It may be some foul train to catch your life.
Phi. I do not think it Gentlemen: she's noble,
Her eye may shoot me dead, or those true red
And white friends in her face may steal my soul out:
There's all the danger in't: but be what may,
Her single name hath arm'd me.
[Ex. Phil.
Di. Go on:
And be as truly happy as thou art fearless:
Come Gentlemen, let's make our friends acquainted,
Lest the King prove false.
[Ex. Gentlemen.
Enter Arethusa and a Lady.
Are. Comes he not?
La. Madam?
Are. Will Philaster come?
La. Dear Madam, you were wont
To credit me at first.
Are. But didst thou tell me so?
I am forgetful, and my womans strength
Is so o'recharg'd with danger like to grow
About my Marriage that these under-things
Dare not abide in such a troubled sea:
How look't he, when he told thee he would come?
La. Why, well.
Are. And not a little fearful?
La. Fear Madam? sure he knows not what it is.
Are. You are all of his Faction; the whole Court
Is bold in praise of him, whilst I
May live neglected: and do noble things,
As fools in strife throw gold into the Sea,
Drown'd in the doing: but I know he fears.
La. Fear? Madam (me thought) his looks hid more
Of love than fear.
Are. Of love? To whom? to you?
Did you deliver those plain words I sent,
With such a winning gesture, and quick look
That you have caught him?
La. Madam, I mean to you.
Are. Of love to me? Alas! thy ignorance
Lets thee not see the crosses of our births:
Nature, that loves not to be questioned
Why she did this, or that, but has her ends,
And knows she does well; never gave the world
Two things so opposite, so contrary,
As he and I am: If a bowl of blood
Drawn from this arm of mine, would poyson thee,
A draught of his would cure thee. Of love to me?
La. Madam, I think I hear him.
Are. Bring him in:
You gods that would not have your dooms withstood,
Whose holy wisdoms at this time it is,
To make the passion of a feeble maid
The way unto your justice, I obey.
[ Enter Phil.