La. No Madam.
[ _Enter _Galatea.
Are. O you are welcome, what good news?
Gal. As good as any one can tell your Grace, That saies she hath done that you would have wish'd.
Are. Hast thou discovered?
Gal. I have strained a point of modesty for you.
Are. I prethee how?
Gal. In listning after bawdery; I see, let a Lady live never so modestly, she shall be sure to find a lawful time, to harken after bawdery; your Prince, brave Pharamond, was so hot on't.
Are. With whom?
Gal. Why, with the Lady I suspect: I can tell the time and place.
Are. O when, and where?
Gal. To night, his Lodging.
Are. Run thy self into the presence, mingle there again
With other Ladies, leave the rest to me:
If destiny (to whom we dare not say,
Why thou didst this) have not decreed it so
In lasting leaves (whose smallest Characters
Were never altered:) yet, this match shall break.
Where's the boy?
La. Here Madam.
[ _Enter _Bellario.
Are. Sir, you are sad to change your service, is't not so?
Bell. Madam, I have not chang'd; I wait on you,
To do him service.
Are. Thou disclaim'st in me;
Tell me thy name.
Bell. Bellario.
Are. Thou canst sing, and play?
Bell. If grief will give me leave, Madam, I can.
Are. Alas! what kind of grief can thy years know?
Hadst thou a curst master, when thou went'st to School?
Thou art not capable of other grief;
Thy brows and cheeks are smooth as waters be,
When no [b]reath troubles them: believe me boy,
Care seeks out wrinkled brows, and hollow eyes,
And builds himself caves to abide in them.
Come Sir, tell me truly, does your Lord love me?
Bell. Love Madam? I know not what it is.
Are. Canst thou know grief, and never yet knew'st love?
Thou art deceiv'd boy; does he speak of me
As if he wish'd me well?
Bell. If it be love,
To forget all respect of his own friends,
In thinking of your face; if it be love
To sit cross arm'd and sigh away the day,
Mingled with starts, crying your name as loud
And hastily, as men i'the streets do fire:
If it be love to weep himself away,
When he but hears of any Lady dead,
Or kill'd, because it might have been your chance;
If when he goes to rest (which will not be)
'Twixt every prayer he saies, to name you once
As others drop a bead, be to be in love;
Then Madam, I dare swear he loves you.
Are. O y'are a cunning boy, and taught to lie,
For your Lords credit; but thou knowest, a lie,
That bears this sound, is welcomer to me,
Than any truth that saies he loves me not.
Lead the way Boy: Do you attend me too;
'Tis thy Lords business hasts me thus; Away.
[Exeunt.
_Enter _Dion, Cleremont, Thrasilin, Megra _and _Galatea.
Di. Come Ladies, shall we talk a round? As men Do walk a mile, women should take an hour After supper: 'Tis their exercise.
Gal. Tis late.
Meg. 'Tis all
My eyes will do to lead me to my bed.
Gal. I fear they are so heavy, you'l scarce find
The way to your lodging with 'em to night.
[ Enter Pharamond.
Thra. The Prince.
Pha. Not a bed Ladies? y'are good sitters up; What think you of a pleasant dream to last Till morning?
Meg. I should choose, my Lord, a pleasing wake before it.
[_Enter _Arethusa _and _Bellario.
Are. 'Tis well my Lord y'are courting of Ladies. Is't not late Gentlemen?
Cle. Yes Madam.
Are. Wait you there. [_Exit _Arethusa.
Meg. She's jealous, as I live; look you my Lord,
The Princess has a Hilas, an Adonis.
Pha. His form is Angel-like.
Meg. Why this is he, must, when you are wed,
Sit by your pillow, like young Apollo, with
His hand and voice, binding your thoughts in sleep;
The Princess does provide him for you, and for her self.
Pha. I find no musick in these boys.
Meg. Nor I.
They can do little, and that small they do,
They have not wit to hide.
Di. Serves he the Princess?
Thra. Yes.
Di. 'Tis a sweet boy, how brave she keeps him!
Pha. Ladies all good rest; I mean to kill a Buck
To morrow morning, ere y'ave done your dreams.
Meg. All happiness attend your Grace, Gentlemen good rest,
Come shall we to bed?
Gal. Yes, all good night.
[Ex. Gal. _and _Meg.
Di. May your dreams be true to you;
What shall we do Gallants? 'Tis late, the King
Is up still, see, he comes, a Guard along
With him.
[_Enter _King, Arethusa _and _Guard.
King. Look your intelligence be true.
Are. Upon my life it is: and I do hope,
Your Highness will not tye me to a man,
That in the heat of wooing throws me off,
And takes another.
Di. What should this mean?
King. If it be true, That Lady had been better have embrac'd Cureless Diseases; get you to your rest,
[Ex. Are. _and _Bel.
You shall be righted: Gentlemen draw near,
We shall imploy you: Is young Pharamond
Come to his lodging?
Di. I saw him enter there.
King. Haste some of you, and cunningly discover,
If Megra be in her lodging.
Cle. Sir,
She parted hence but now with other Ladies.
King. If she be there, we shall not need to make
A vain discovery of our suspicion.
You gods I see, that who unrighteously
Holds wealth or state from others, shall be curst,
In that, which meaner men are blest withall:
Ages to come shall know no male of him
Left to inherit, and his name shall be
Blotted from earth; If he have any child,
It shall be crossly matched: the gods themselves
Shall sow wild strife betwixt her Lord and her,
Yet, if it be your wills, forgive the sin
I have committed, let it not fall
Upon this understanding child of mine,
She has not broke your Laws; but how can I,
Look to be heard of gods, that must be just,
Praying upon the ground I hold by wrong?
[ _Enter _Dion.
Di. Sir, I have asked, and her women swear she is within, but they I think are bawds; I told 'em I must speak with her: they laught, and said their Lady lay speechless. I said, my business was important; they said their Lady was about it: I grew hot, and cryed my business was a matter that concern'd life and death; they answered, so was sleeping, at which their Lady was; I urg'd again, she had scarce time to be so since last I saw her; they smil'd again, and seem'd to instruct me, that sleeping was nothing but lying down and winking: Answers more direct I could not get: in short Sir, I think she is not there.
King. 'Tis then no time to dally: you o'th' Guard,
Wait at the back door of the Princes lodging,
And see that none pass thence upon your lives.
Knock Gentlemen: knock loud: louder yet:
What, has their pleasure taken off their hearing?
I'le break your meditations: knock again:
Not yet? I do not think he sleeps, having this
Larum by him; once more, Pharamond, Prince.
[Pharamond above.
Pha. What sawcy groom knocks at this dead of night? Where be our waiters? By my vexed soul, He meets his death, that meets me, for this boldness.
K. Prince, you wrong your thoughts, we are your friends, Come down.
Pha. The King?
King. The same Sir, come down,
We have cause of present Counsel with you.
Pha. If your Grace please to use me, I'le attend you
To your Chamber.
[Pha. below.
King. No, 'tis too late Prince, I'le make bold with yours.
Pha. I have some private reasons to my self,
Makes me unmannerly, and say you cannot;
Nay, press not forward Gentlemen, he must come
Through my life, that comes here.
King. Sir be resolv'd, I must and will come. Enter.
Pha. I will not be dishonour'd;
He that enters, enters upon his death;
Sir, 'tis a sign you make no stranger of me,
To bring these Renegados to my Chamber,
At these unseason'd hours.
King. Why do you
Chafe your self so? you are not wrong'd, nor shall be;
Onely I'le search your lodging, for some cause
To our self known: Enter I say.
Pha. I say no.
[Meg. Above.
Meg. Let 'em enter Prince,
Let 'em enter, I am up, and ready; I know their business,
'Tis the poor breaking of a Ladies honour,
They hunt so hotly after; let 'em enjoy it.
You have your business Gentlemen, I lay here.
O my Lord the King, this is not noble in you
To make publick the weakness of a Woman.
King. Come down.
Meg. I dare my Lord; your whootings and your clamors,
Your private whispers, and your broad fleerings,
Can no more vex my soul, than this base carriage;
But I have vengeance yet in store for some,
Shall in the most contempt you can have of me,
Be joy and nourishment.
King. Will you come down?
Meg. Yes, to laugh at your worst: but I shall wrong you, If my skill fail me not.
King. Sir, I must dearly chide you for this looseness, You have wrong'd a worthy Lady; but no more, Conduct him to my lodging, and to bed.
Cle. Get him another wench, and you bring him to bed in deed.
Di. 'Tis strange a man cannot ride a Stagg
Or two, to breath himself, without a warrant:
If this geer hold, that lodgings be search'd thus,
Pray heaven we may lie with our own wives in safety,
That they be not by some trick of State mistaken.
[ Enter with Megra.
King. Now Lady of honour, where's your honour now?
No man can fit your palat, but the Prince.
Thou most ill shrowded rottenness; thou piece
Бесплатно
Установите приложение, чтобы читать эту книгу бесплатно
О проекте
О подписке