Dion. Is loath'd as much as he.
Phi. By what strange Means?
Dion. She's known a Whore. Phi. Thou lyeft.
[Offers to draw, and is held.
And thou fhalt feel it; I had thought, thy Mind
Had been of Honour. Thus to rob a Lady
Of her good Name, is an infectious Sin,
Not to be pardon'd; be it falfe as Hell,
'Twill never be redeem'd, if it be fown
Amongst the People, fruitful to increase
All Evil they shall hear. Let me alone,
That I may cut off Falfhood, whilft it springs.
Set Hills on Hills betwixt me and the Man
That utters this, and I will scale them all,
And from the utmost Top fall on his Neck,
Like Thunder from a Cloud. Dion. This is most strange;
Sure, he does love her. Phi. I do love fair Truth:
She is my Mistress, and who injures her,
Draws Vengeance from me. Sirs, let go my Arms.
Thra. Nay, good my Lord, be patient.
This is your honour'd Friend, that comes to do
His Service, and will fhew you why he utter'd this.
Phil. I ask you pardon, Sir, my Zeal to Truth
Made me unmannerly: Should I have heard
Difhonour spoke of you, behind your Back
Untruly, I had been as much diftemper'd,
Enrag'd, as now. Dion. But this, my Lord, is Truth.
Phi. O, fay not fo; good Sir, forbear to say so;
(29) 'Tis Truth then, that all Womankind is false;
Urge it no more, it is impoffible;
Why should you think the Princess light?
Dion. Why, fhe was taken at it.
Phi. 'Tis falfe; by Heav'n, 'tis false; it cannot be, Can it? Speak, Gentlemen; for Love of Truth, fpeak;
(29) 'Tis the Truth that all Womankind is falfe;] There is here very little Remains of either Senfe, or Measure. The Addition of one Letter will restore the Former, and the Tranfpofition of two Words the Latter. This Emendation is authoriz'd by the best old Quarto's. Mr. Seward.
Is't poffible? can Women all be damn'd?
Dion. Why, no, my Lord.
Phi. Why, then it cannot be.
Dion. And fhe was taken with her Boy.
Phi. What Boy?
Dion. A Page, a Boy that ferves her.
Phi. O good Gods,
Dion. Ay, know you him, my Lord?
Phi. Hell and Sin know him! Sir, you are deceiv'd; I'll reason it a little coldly with you;
If fhe were luftful, would fhe take a Boy,
That knows not yet Defire? fhe would have One Should meet her Thoughts, and know the Sin he acts, Which is the great Delight of Wickedness;
You are abus'd, and fo is fhe, and I.
Dion. How you, my Lord?
Phi. Why, all the World's abus'd
In an unjuft Report. Dion. Oh, noble Sir, your Virtues
Cannot look into the fubtle Thoughts of Woman.
In fhort, my Lord, I took them: I myself.
Phi. Now, all the Devils, thou didft; fly from my Rage: 'Would, thou hadft ta'en Devils ingendring Plagues, When thou didst take them; hide thee from my Eyes. 'Would, thou hadft taken Thunder on thy Breast, When thou didst take them; or been ftrucken dumb For ever; that this foul Deed might have slept
In Silence. Thrá. Have you known him fo ill-temper'd?
Cle. Never before. Phi. The Winds, that are let loofe
From the four feveral Corners of the Earth,
And spread themselves all over Sea and Land,
Kifs not a chaste one. What Friend bears a Sword
To run me through?
Dion. Why, my Lord, are you fo mov'd at this?
Phi. When any falls from Virtue, I am distracted;
I have an Interest in't.
Dion. But, good my Lord, recall yourself, And think, what's beft to be done.
Phi. I thank you, I will do it;
Please you to leave me, I'll confider of it:
To morrow I will find your Lodging forth, (30) And give you Answer.
Dion. All the Gods direct you
The readiest Way!
Thra. He was extream impatient.
Cle. It was his Virtue, and his noble Mind.
[Exeunt Dion, Cleo. and Thra.
Phi. I had forgot to ask him, where he took them; - O, that I had a Sea
Within my Breaft, to quench the Fire I feel!
More Circumstances will but fan this Fire;
It more afflicts me now, to know by whom
This Deed is done, than fimply that 'tis done:
And he, that tells me this, is honourable,
As far from Lies, as fhe is far from Truth.
O, that like Beasts, we could not grieve ourselves,
With that we fee not! Bulls and Rams will fight,
To keep their Females standing in their Sight;
But take 'em from them, and you take at once
Their Spleens away; and they will fall again
Unto their Paftures, growing fresh and fat;
And tafte the Water of the Springs as fweet
As 'twas before, finding no Start in Sleep.
But miferable Man See, fee, you Gods,
Enter Bellario.
He walks ftill; and the Face, you let him wear
When he was innocent, is ftill the fame,
Not blafted; Is this Juftice? Do you mean
To intrap Mortality, that you allow
Treafon fo fmooth a Brow? I cannot now
Think, he is guilty. Bel. Health to you, my Lord!
The Princefs doth commend her Love, her Life,
And this unto you. Phi. Oh Bellario,
Now I perceive the loves me, fhe does fhew it
(30) And give you Anfwer.
The readieft Way. Dion. All the Gods direct you.] This is the nonfenfical Collocation of all the printed Copies. The Tranfpofition, which I have made, is felf-evident, and deferves no farther Proof.
In loving thee, my Boy; fh'as made thee brave.
Bel. My Lord, fhe has attired me past my Wish,
Past my Defert; more fit for her Attendant,
Though far unfit for me, who do attend.
Phi. Thou art grown courtly, Boy. O, let all Women,
That love black Deeds, learn to diffemble here!
Here, by this Paper she does write to me,
As if her Heart were Mines of Adamant
To all the World befides; but, unto me,
A Maiden-fnow that melted with my Looks.
Tell me, my Boy, how doth the Princess use thee?
For I fhall guess her Love to me by that.
Bel. Scarce like her Servant, but as if I were
Something ally'd to her; or had preferv'd
Her Life three times by my Fidelity.
As Mothers fond do use their only Sons;
As I'd ufe one, that's left unto my Truft,
For whom my Life should pay, if he met Harm,
So fhe does ufe me. Phi. Why, this is wondrous well:
But what kind Language does the feed thee with?
Bel. Why, fhe does tell me, the will truft my Youth
With all her loving Secrets; and does call me
Her pretty Servant, bids me weep no more
For leaving you; fhe'll fee my Services
Regarded; and fuch Words of that foft Strain,
That I am nearer weeping when she ends
Than e'er fhe fpake. Phi. This is much better ftill.
Bel. Are you not ill, my Lord?
Phi. Ill? No, Bellario.
Bel. Methinks, your Words
Fall not from off your Tongue fo evenly,
Nor is there in your Looks that Quietness,
That I was wont to fee.
Phi. Thou art deceiv'd, Boy:
And she stroaks thy Head?
Bel. Yes. Phi. And does clap thy Cheeks?
Bel. She does, my Lord.
Phi. And fhe does kifs thee, Boy? ha!
Bel. How, my Lord?
Phi. Come, come, I know fhe does.
Phi. Why, then, fhe does not love me; come, fhe does,
I bad her do it; I charg'd her by all Charms
Of Love between us, by the Hope of Peace
We should enjoy, to yield thee all Delights
Naked, as to her Bed: I took her Oath,
Thou should'ft enjoy her: Tell me, gentle Boy,
Is fhe not paralleless? Is not her Breath
Sweet as Arabian Winds, when Fruits are ripe?
Are not her Breasts two liquid Ivory Balls?
Is fhe not all a lafting Mine of Joy?
Bel. Ay, now I fee, why my difturbed Thoughts
Were fo perplext. When firft I went to her,
My Heart held Augury; you are abus'd,
Some Villain has abus'd you; I do fee,
Whereto you tend; Fall Rocks upon his Head,
That put this to you! 'tis fome fubtle Train,
To bring that noble Frame of yours to nought.
Phi. Thou think'ft, I will be angry with thee; Come,
Thou shalt know all my Drift; I hate her more,
Than I love Happiness; and plac'd thee there,
Το pry with narrow Eyes into her Deeds.
Haft thou discover'd? Is fhe faln to Luft,
As I would wish her? Speak fome Comfort to me.
Bel. My Lord, you did mistake the Boy you fent :
Had fhe the Luft of Sparrows, or of Goats;
Had fhe a Sin that way, hid from the World,
Beyond the Name of Luft, I would not aid
Her bafe Defires; but what I came to know
As Servant to her, I would not reveal,
To make my Life laft Ages. Phi. Oh, my Heart!
This is a Salve worfe than the main Disease.
Tell me thy Thoughts; for I will know the least
That dwells within thee, or will rip thy Heart
To know it; I will fee thy Thoughts as plain
As I do now thy Face. Bel. Why, fo you do.
She is (for aught I know) by all the Gods,
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