Are. Good sir, let me understand you. If you Show it in duty; put away that boy. King. Do not you blush to ask it? Are. Or I shall do the same to you. Cast him off, You're one What I have done, my lord? King. 'Tis a new language, that all love to learn: 30 [Exit. Are Where may a maiden live securely free, 40 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 And newly-spirited, I'll right your honour. Are. Oh, my best love, that boy! Phi. 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 you Letters, rings, bracelets? lose his health in service? Phi. 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, Upon my eyelids, making me dream, and cry, 'Oh, my dear, dear Philaster!' Oh, my heart! Phi. As my Bellario! 'Tis but your fond affection. Are. With thee, my boy, farewell for ever Phi. Let all that shall succeed thee for thy wrongs 71 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! Are. Phi. False Arethusa ! How, my lord? Hast thou a medicine to restore my wits, Are. Do what, sir? would you sleep? Phi. For ever, Arethusa. Oh, you gods, Are. Give me a worthy patience! Have I stood Hears his sad bell and sees his mourners? Do I Nay, then, I am betrayed : Oh, I am wretched! Phi. Now you may take that little right I have To this poor kingdom: give it to your joy; And live to curse you : 100 There dig a cave, and preach to birds and beasts Both heal and poison; how your thoughts are woven With thousand changes in one subtle web, And worn so by you; how that foolish man, How all the good you have is but a shadow, texts, 120 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 ; How you are, being taken all together, A mere confusion, and so dead a chaos, That love cannot distinguish. These sad 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 [Exit. My heart holds. Where shall a woman turn her eyes, To find out constancy? 130 Enter Bellario. Save me, how black And guiltily, methinks, that boy looks now! |