ર Thra. Nay, good my lord, be patient. 80 Cle. Sir, remember this is your honoured friend, Phi. I ask you pardon, sir ; Phi. Oh, say not so! The princess light? Dion. 90 Why, she was taken at it. Phi. 'Tis false! by Heaven, 'tis false ! it cannot be! Can it? speak! Speak, gentlemen; for love of truth, Is't possible? Can women all be damned? Dion. Why, no, my lord. Phi. Dion. And she was taken with her boy. Phi. Why, then, it cannot be. What boy? Oh, good gods! Dion. A page, a boy that serves her. A little boy? Dion. Ay; know you him, my lord? Phi. Hell and sin know him! [Aside.]-Sir, you are deceived; I'll reason it a little coldly with you: If she were lustful, would she take a boy, 100 That knows not yet desire? she would have one acts, Which is the great delight of wickedness. You are abused, and so is she, and I. Dion. How you, my lord? Phi. In an unjust report. Dion. Why, all the world's abused Oh, noble sir, your virtues Cannot look into the subtle thoughts of woman! Phi. Now, all the devils, thou didst! Fly from my rage! Would thou hadst ra'en devils engendering plagues, eyes! Would thou hadst taken thunder on thy breast, For ever; that this foul deed might have slept Thra. Have you known him so ill-tempered? Cle. Never before. Phi. The winds, that are let loose From the four several corners of the earth, What friend bears a sword Why, my lord, are you 121 When any fall from virtue, I am distract; I have an interest in 't. Phi. I thank you; I will do it: Dion. All the gods direct you The readiest way! Thra. He was extreme impatient. 130 Cle. It was his virtue and his noble mind. [Exeunt Dion, Cleremont, and Thrasiline. Phi. I had forgot to ask him where he took them; I'll follow him. Oh, that I had a sea Within my breast, 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 simply that 'tis done; And he that tells me this is honourable, As far from lies as she is far from truth. Bel. Phi. Oh that, like beasts, we could not grieve ourselves Enter Bellario. See, see, you gods, He walks still; and the face you let him wear Think he is guilty. 150 [Aside. [Gives a letter. Health to you, my lord! Oh Bellario, Now I perceive she loves me! she does show it In loving thee, my boy: she has made thee brave. Bel. My lord, she has attired me past my wish, Past my desert; more fit for her attendant, 160 Phi. Thou art grown courtly, boy.—Oh, let all women, That love black deeds, learn to dissemble here, 170 [Aside. Tell me, my boy, how doth the princess use thee? For I shall guess her love to me by that. Bel. Scarce like her servant, but as if I were Something allied to her, or had preserved Her life three times by my fidelity; As mothers fond do use their only sons, As I'd use one that's left unto my trust, For whom my life should pay if he met harm, So she does use me. Phi. Why, this is wondrous well: But what kind language does she feed thee with? Bel. Why, she does tell me she will trust my youth With all her loving secrets, and does call me Her pretty servant; bids me weep no more For leaving you; she'll see my services Regarded: and such words of that soft strain, That I am nearer weeping when she ends Than ere she spake. 180 |