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Are. Good sir, let me understand you.

If you fear me,

Show it in duty; put away that boy.
Are. Let me have reason for it, sir, and then
Your will is my command.

King. Do not you blush to ask it?

Or I shall do the same to you.

Cast him off,

You're one
Shame with me, and so near unto myself,
That, by my life, I dare not tell myself
What you, myself, have done.

What I have done, my lord?
King. 'Tis a new language, that all love to learn:
The common people speak it well already;
They need no grammar. Understand me well;
There be foul whispers stirring. Cast him off,\
And suddenly: do it! Farewell.

Are Where may a maiden live securely free,



Keeping her honour fair? Not with the living;
They feed upon opinions, errors, dreams,
And make 'em truths; they draw a nourishment
Out of defamings, grow upon disgraces;
And, when they see a virtue fortified
Strongly above the battery of their tongues,
Oh, how they cast to sink it! and, defeated
(Soul-sick with poison), strike the monuments
Where noble names lie sleeping, till they sweat,
And the cold marble melt.


Enter Philaster.

Phi. Peace to your fairest thoughts, dearest mistress ! Are. Oh, my dearest servant, I have a war within me! Phi. He must be more than man that makes these crystals

Run into rivers. Sweetest fair, the cause?

And, as I am your slave, tied to your goodness, 50
Your creature, made again from what I was

And newly-spirited, I'll right your honour.

Are. Oh, my best love, that boy!

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Oh, my misfortune! Then 'tis no idle jealousy. [Aside.]—Let him go. Are. Oh, cruel!

Are you hard-hearted too? who shall now tell you
How much I loved you? who shall swear it to you,
And weep the tears I send? who shall now bring

Letters, rings, bracelets? lose his health in service?
Wake tedious nights in stories of your praise?


Who shall now sing your crying elegies,

And strike a sad soul into senseless pictures,

And make them mourn? who shall take up his lute,
And touch it till he crown a silent sleep

Upon my eyelids, making me dream, and cry,

'Oh, my dear, dear Philaster !'

Oh, my heart!
Would he had broken thee, that made me know
This lady was not loyal! [Aside.]—Mistress,
Forget the boy; I'll get thee a far better.
Are. Oh, never, never such a boy again


As my Bellario!

'Tis but your fond affection.
Are. With thee, my boy, farewell for ever
All secrecy in servants! Farewell faith,
And all desire to do well for itself!


Let all that shall succeed thee for thy wrongs
Sell and betray chaste love!


And all this passion for a boy?

Are. He was your boy, and you put him to me,

And the loss of such must have a mourning for. 80 Phi. Oh, thou forgetful woman!


Phi. False Arethusa !


How, my lord?

Hast thou a medicine to restore my wits,
When I have lost 'em? If not, leave to talk,
And do thus.

Do what, sir? would you sleep?

Phi. For ever, Arethusa. Oh, you gods,


Give me a worthy patience! Have I stood
Naked, alone, the shock of many fortunes?
Have I seen mischiefs numberless and mighty
Grow like a sea upon me? Have I taken
Danger as stern as death into my bosom,
And laughed upon it, made it but a mirth,
And flung it by? Do I live now like him,
Under this tyrant King, that languishing

Hears his sad bell and sees his mourners? Do I
Bear all this bravely, and must sink at length
Under a woman's falsehood? Oh, that boy,
That cursed boy! None but a villain boy
To ease your lust?

Nay, then, I am betrayed :
I feel the plot cast for my overthrow.

Oh, I am wretched!

Phi. Now you may take that little right I have

To this poor kingdom:

For I have no joy in it.

give it to your joy;
Some far place,

Where never womankind durst set her foot
For bursting with her poisons, must I seek,

And live to curse you :



There dig a cave, and preach to birds and beasts
What woman is, and help to save them from you;
How heaven is in your eyes, but in your hearts IIO
More hell than hell has; how your tongues, like

Both heal and poison; how your thoughts are


With thousand changes in one subtle web,

And worn so by you; how that foolish man,
That reads the story of a woman's face
And dies believing it, is lost for ever;

How all the good you have is but a shadow,

I' the morning with you, and at night behind you
Past and forgotten; how your vows are frosts,
Fast for a night, and with the next sun gone ; 120
How you are, being taken all together,
A mere confusion, and so dead a chaos,

That love cannot distinguish. These sad texts, น

Till my last hour, I am bound to utter of you.
So, farewell all my woe, all my delight!


Are. Be merciful, ye gods, and strike me dead!
What way have I deserved this? Make my breast
Transparent as pure crystal, that the world,

Jealous of me, may see the foulest thought

My heart holds. Where shall a woman turn her


To find out constancy?


Enter Bellario.

Save me, how black

And guiltily, methinks, that boy looks now!
Oh, thou dissembler, that, before thou spak'st
Wert in thy cradle false, sent to make lies

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