Philaster Part 12

_Actus Quartus. Scena Prima_.

_Enter_ King, Pharamond, Arethusa, Galatea, Megra, Dion, Cleremont, Thrasilin, _and Attendants_.

_K_. What, are the Hounds before, and all the woodmen?

Our horses ready, and our bows bent?

_Di_. All Sir.

_King_. Y'are cloudy Sir, come we have forgotten Your venial trespa.s.s, let not that sit heavy Upon your spirit; none dare utter it.

_Di_. He looks like an old surfeited Stallion after his leaping, dull as a Dormouse: see how he sinks; the wench has shot him between wind and water, and I hope sprung a leak.

_Thra_. He needs no teaching, he strikes sure enough; his greatest fault is, he Hunts too much in the Purlues, would he would leave off Poaching.

_Di_. And for his horn, has left it at the Lodge where he lay late; Oh, he's a precious Lime-hound; turn him loose upon the pursuit of a Lady, and if he lose her, hang him up i'th' slip. When my Fox-b.i.t.c.h Beauty grows proud, I'le borrow him.

_King_. Is your Boy turn'd away?

_Are_. You did command Sir, and I obey you.

_King_. 'Tis well done: Hark ye further.

_Cle_. Is't possible this fellow should repent? Me thinks that were not n.o.ble in him: and yet he looks like a mortified member, as if he had a sick mans Salve in's mouth. If a worse man had done this fault now, some Physical Justice or other, would presently (without the help of an Almanack) have opened the obstructions of his Liver, and let him bloud with a Dog-whip.

_Di_. See, see, how modestly your Lady looks, as if she came from Churching with her Neighbour; why, what a Devil can a man see in her face, but that she's honest?

_Pha_. Troth no great matter to speak of, a foolish twinkling with the eye, that spoils her Coat; but he must be a cunning Herald that finds it.

_Di_. See how they Muster one another! O there's a Rank Regiment where the Devil carries the Colours, and his Dam Drum major, now the world and the flesh come behind with the Carriage.

_Cle_. Sure this Lady has a good turn done her against her will: before she was common talk, now none dare say, Cantharides can stir her, her face looks like a Warrant, willing and commanding all Tongues, as they will answer it, to be tied up and bolted when this Lady means to let her self loose. As I live she has got her a goodly protection, and a gracious; and may use her body discreetly, for her healths sake, once a week, excepting Lent and Dog-days: Oh if they were to be got for mony, what a great sum would come out of the City for these Licences?

_King_. To horse, to horse, we lose the morning, Gentlemen.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter two_ Woodmen.

_1 Wood_.What, have you lodged the Deer?

_2 Wood_. Yes, they are ready for the Bow.

_1 Wood_. Who shoots?

_2 Wood_. The Princess.

_1 Wood_. No she'l Hunt.

_2 Wood_. She'l take a Stand I say.

_1 Wood_. Who else?

_2 Wood_. Why the young stranger Prince.

_1 Wood_. He shall Shoot in a Stone-bow for me. I never lov'd his beyond-sea-s.h.i.+p, since he forsook the Say, for paying Ten s.h.i.+llings: he was there at the fall of a Deer, and would needs (out of his mightiness) give Ten groats for the Dowcers; marry the Steward would have had the Velvet-head into the bargain, to Turf his Hat withal: I think he should love Venery, he is an old Sir _Tristram_; for if you be remembred, he forsook the Stagg once, to strike a Rascal Milking in a Medow, and her he kill'd in the eye. Who shoots else?

_2 Wood_. The Lady _Galatea_.

_1 Wood_. That's a good wench, and she would not chide us for tumbling of her women in the Brakes. She's liberal, and by my Bow they say she's honest, and whether that be a fault, I have nothing to do. There's all?

_2 Wood_. No, one more, _Megra_.

_1 Wood_. That's a firker I'faith boy; there's a wench will Ride her Haunces as hard after a Kennel of Hounds, as a Hunting-saddle; and when she comes home, get 'em clapt, and all is well again. I have known her lose her self three times in one Afternoon (if the Woods had been answerable) and it has been work enough for one man to find her, and he has sweat for it. She Rides well, and she payes well. Hark, let's go.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ Philaster.

_Phi_. Oh, that I had been nourished in these woods With Milk of Goats, and Acorns, and not known The right of Crowns, nor the dissembling Trains Of Womens looks; but dig'd my self a Cave, Where I, my Fire, my Cattel, and my Bed Might have been shut together in one shed; And then had taken me some Mountain Girl, Beaten with Winds, chast as the hardened Rocks Whereon she dwells; that might have strewed my Bed With leaves, and Reeds, and with the Skins of beasts Our Neighbours; and have born at her big b.r.e.a.s.t.s My large course issue. This had been a life free from vexation.

[ _Enter_ Bellario.

_Bell_. Oh wicked men!

An innocent man may walk safe among beasts, Nothing a.s.saults me here. See, my griev'd Lord Sits as his soul were searching out a way, To leave his body. Pardon me that must Break thy last commandment; For I must speak; You that are griev'd can pity; hear my Lord.

_Phi_. Is there a Creature yet so miserable, That I can pity?

_Bell_. Oh my n.o.ble Lord, View my strange fortune, and bestow on me, According to your bounty (if my service Can merit nothing) so much as may serve To keep that little piece I hold of life From cold and hunger.

_Phi_. Is it thou? be gone: Go sell those misbeseeming Cloaths thou wear'st, And feed thy self with them.

_Bell_. Alas! my Lord, I can get nothing for them: The silly Country people think 'tis Treason To touch such gay things.

_Phi_. Now by my life this is Unkindly done, to vex me with thy sight, Th'art fain again to thy dissembling trade: How should'st thou think to cozen me again?

Remains there yet a plague untri'd for me?

Even so thou wept'st and spok'st when first I took thee up; curse on the time. If thy Commanding tears can work on any other, Use thy art, I'le not betray it. Which way Wilt thou take, that I may shun thee; For thine eyes are poyson to mine; and I Am loth to grow in rage. This way, or that way?

_Bell_. Any will serve. But I will chuse to have That path in chase that leads unto my grave.

[_Exeunt_ Phil. _and_ Bell. _severally_.

_Enter_ Dion _and the_ Woodmen.

_Di_. This is the strangest sudden change! You _Woodman_.

_1 Wood_. My Lord _Dion_.

_Di_. Saw you a Lady come this way on a Sable-horse stubbed with stars of white?