Philaster; Or, Love Lies a Bleeding. Beaumont Francis

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.

      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