Philaster; Or, Love Lies a Bleeding. Beaumont Francis
Woman. But woo her still, and think her modesty
A sweeter mistress than the offer'd Language
Of any Dame, were she a Queen whose eye
Speaks common loves and comforts to her servants.
Last, noble son, (for so I now must call you)
What I have done thus publick, is not only
To add a comfort in particular
To you or me, but all; and to confirm
The Nobles, and the Gentry of these Kingdoms,
By oath to your succession, which shall be
Within this month at most.
Thra. This will be hardly done.
Cle. It must be ill done, if it be done.
Di. When 'tis at best, 'twill be but half done, Whilst so brave a Gentleman's wrong'd and flung off.
Thra. I fear.
Cle. Who does not?
Di. I fear not for my self, and yet I fear too:
Well, we shall see, we shall see: no more.
Pha. Kissing your white hand (Mistress) I take leave,
To thank your Royal Father: and thus far,
To be my own free Trumpet. Understand
Great King, and these your subjects, mine that must be,
(For so deserving you have spoke me Sir,
And so deserving I dare speak my self)
To what a person, of what eminence,
Ripe expectation of what faculties,
Manners and vertues you would wed your Kingdoms?
You in me have your wishes. Oh this Country,
By more than all my hopes I hold it
Happy, in their dear memories that have been
Kings great and good, happy in yours, that is,
And from you (as a Chronicle to keep
Your Noble name from eating age) do I
Opine myself most happy. Gentlemen,
Believe me in a word, a Princes word,
There shall be nothing to make up a Kingdom
Mighty, and flourishing, defenced, fear'd,
Equall to be commanded and obey'd,
But through the travels of my life I'le find it,
And tye it to this Country. And I vow
My reign shall be so easie to the subject,
That every man shall be his Prince himself,
And his own law (yet I his Prince and law.)
And dearest Lady, to your dearest self
(Dear, in the choice of him, whose name and lustre
Must make you more and mightier) let me say,
You are the blessed'st living; for sweet Princess,
You shall enjoy a man of men, to be
Your servant; you shall make him yours, for whom
Great Queens must die.
Thra. Miraculous.
Cle. This speech calls him Spaniard, being nothing but A large inventory of his own commendations.
[Enter Philaster.
Di. I wonder what's his price? For certainly he'll tell himself he has so prais'd his shape: But here comes one more worthy those large speeches, than the large speaker of them? let me be swallowed quick, if I can find, in all the Anatomy of yon mans vertues, one sinew sound enough to promise for him, he shall be Constable. By this Sun, he'll ne're make King unless it be for trifles, in my poor judgment.
Phi. Right Noble Sir, as low as my obedience, And with a heart as Loyal as my knee, I beg your favour.
King. Rise, you have it Sir.
Di. Mark but the King how pale he looks with fear. Oh! this same whorson Conscience, how it jades us!
King. Speak your intents Sir.
Phi. Shall I speak 'um freely?
Be still my royal Soveraign.
King. As a subject
We give you freedom.
Di. Now it heats.
Phi. Then thus I turn
My language to you Prince, you foreign man.
Ne're stare nor put on wonder, for you must
Indure me, and you shall. This earth you tread upon
(A dowry as you hope with this fair Princess,
Whose memory I bow to) was not left
By my dead Father (Oh, I had a Father)
To your inheritance, and I up and living,
Having my self about me and my sword,
The souls of all my name, and memories,
These arms and some few friends, besides the gods,
To part so calmly with it, and sit still,
And