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.