Philaster | Page 5

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.
La. Here is my Lord Philaster.
Are. Oh! 'tis well: Withdraw your self.
Phi. Madam, your messenger Made me believe, you wisht to speak with me.
Are. 'Tis true _Philaster,_ but the words are such, I have to say, and do so ill beseem The mouth of woman, that I wish them said, And yet am loth to speak them. Have you known That I have ought detracted from your worth? Have I in person wrong'd you? or have set My baser instruments to throw disgrace Upon your vertues?
Phi. Never Madam you.
Are. Why then should you in such a publick place, Injure a Princess and a scandal lay Upon my fortunes, fam'd to be so great: Calling a great part of my dowry in question.
Phi. Madam, this truth which I shall speak, will be Foolish: but for your fair and vertuous self, I could afford my self to have no right To any thing you wish'd.
_Are. Philaster,_ know I must enjoy these Kingdoms.
Phi. Madam, both?
Are. Both or I die: by Fate I die _Philaster,_ If I not calmly may enjoy them both.
Phi. I would do much to save that Noble life: Yet would be loth to have posterity Find in our stories, that Philaster gave His right unto a Scepter, and a Crown, To save a Ladies longing.
Are. Nay then hear: I must, and will have them, and more.
Phi. What more?
Are. Or lose that little life the gods prepared, To trouble this poor piece of earth withall.
Phi. Madam, what more?
Are. Turn then away thy face.
Phi. No.
Are. Do.
Phi. I cannot endure it: turn away my face? I never yet saw enemy that lookt So dreadful, but that I thought my self As great a Basilisk as he; or spake So horribly, but that I thought my tongue Bore Thunder underneath, as much as his: Nor beast that I could turn from: shall I then Begin to fear sweet sounds? a Ladies voice, Whom I do love? Say you would have my life, Why, I will give it you; for it is of me A thing so loath'd, and unto you that ask Of so poor use, that I shall make no price If you intreat, I will unmov'dly hear.
Are. Yet for my sake a little bend thy looks.
Phi. I do.
Are. Then know I must have them and thee.
Phi. And me?
Are. Thy love: without which, all the Land Discovered yet, will serve me for no use, But to be buried in.
Phi. Is't possible?
Are. With it, it were too little to bestow On thee: Now, though thy breath doth strike me dead (Which know it may) I have unript my breast.
Phi. Madam, you are too full of noble thoughts, To lay a train for this contemned life, Which you may have for asking: to suspect Were base, where I deserve no ill: love you! By all my hopes I do, above my life: But how this passion should proceed from you So violently, would amaze a man, that would be jealous.
Are. Another soul into my body shot, Could not have fill'd me with more strength and spirit, Than this thy breath: but spend not hasty time, In seeking how I came thus: 'tis the gods, The gods, that make me so; and sure our love Will be the nobler, and the better blest, In that the secret justice of the gods Is mingled with it. Let us leave and kiss, Lest some unwelcome guest should fall betwixt us, And we should part without it. Phi. 'Twill be ill I should abide here long.
Are. 'Tis true, and worse You should come often: How shall we devise To hold intelligence? That our true lovers, On any new occasion may agree, what path is best to tread?
Phi. I have a boy sent by the gods, I hope to this intent, Not yet seen in the Court; hunting the Buck, I found him sitting by a Fountain side, Of which he borrow'd some to quench his thirst, And paid the Nymph again as much in tears; A Garland lay him by, made by himself, Of many several flowers,