To fool away an hour or two withal,
And then thrown by for ever?

Pha. Nay, have patience.

Meg. Patience! I shall go mad! Why, I shall be A mark for all the pages of the court

To spend their wit upon.

Pha. It shall not be.

She whose dishonour is not known abroad,

Is not at all dishonour'd.

Meg. Not dishonour'd !

Have we then been so chary of our fame,
So cautious, think you, in our course of love,
No blot of calumny has fall'n upon it? Say,
What charm has veil'd suspicion's hundred eyes,
And who shall stop the cruel hand of scornè
Pha. Cease your complaints, reproachful and un-
kind!

What could I do? Obedience to my father,
My country's good, my plighted faith, my fame,
Each circumstance of state and duty, ask'd
The tender of my hand to Arethusa.

Meg. Talk not of Arethusa! She, I know,
Would fain get rid of her most precious bargain.
She is for softer dalliance; she has got

A cherub, a young Hylas, an Adonis !

Pha. What mean you?

Meg. She, good faith, has her Bellario!
A boy-about eighteen-a pretty boy !
Why, this is he that must, when you are wed,
Sit by your pillow, like a young Apollo,

Sing, play upon the lute, with hand and voice Binding your thoughts in sleep. She does provide him For you, and for herself.

Pha. Injurious Megra !

Oh! add not shame to shame! To rob a lady
Of her good name thus, is an heinous sin,
Not to be pardon'd: yet, though false as hell,
'Twill never be redeem'd, if it be sown
Amongst the people, fruitful to increase
All evil they shall hear.

Meg. It shall be known:

Nay, more, by Heav'n, 'tis true! a thousand things Speak it beyond all contradiction true.

Observe how brave she keeps him: how he stands For ever at her beck. There's not an hour,

Sacred howe'er to female privacy,

But he's admitted; and in open court,

Their tell-tale eyes hold soft discourse together.
Why, why is all this? Think you she's content
To look upon him?

Pha. Make it but appear,

That she has play'd the wanton with this stripling,
All Spain, as well as Sicily, shall know

Her foul dishonour. I'll disgrace her first,
Then leave her to her shame.

Meg. You are resolv'd ?

Pha. Most constantly.

Meg. The rest remains with me.

I will produce such proofs, that she shall know
I did not leave our country, and degrade

Our Spanish honour and nobility,

To stand a mean attendant in her chamber,
With hoodwink'd eyes, and finger on my lips.
What I have seen, I'll speak; what known, proclaim;
Her story shall be general as the wind,

And fly as far. I will about it straight.

Expect news from me, Pharamond. Farewell. [Exit.
Pha. True or not true, one way I like this well;
For I suspect the princess loves me not.

If Megra's charge prove malice, her own ruin
Must follow, and I'm quit of her for ever.
But if she makes suspicions truths; or if,
Which were as deep confusion, Arethusa
Disdain'd our proffer'd union, and Philaster
Stand foremost in her heart, let Megra's charge
Wear but the semblance and the garb of truth,
They shall afford me measure of revenge.
I will look on with an indifferent eye,
Prepar❜d for either fortune; or to wed,

If she prove faithful, or repulse her sham'd. [Exit.

SCENE IV.

The presence chamber. Enter DION, CLEREMONT,
THRASILINE, MEGRA, and GALATEA.

Dion. Come, ladies, shall we talk a round?
Gal. 'Tis late.

Meg. 'Tis all

My eyes will do, to lead me to my bed.

Enter PHARAMOND.

Thra. The Prince !

Pha. Not a-bed, ladies! You're good sitters up. What think you of a pleasant dream, to last

'Till morning?

Enter ARETHUSA and BELLARIO.

Are. 'Tis well, my lord; you're courting of ladies, Is't not late, gentlemen ?

Cler. Yes, madam.

Are. Wait you there.

[Exit Arethusa.

Meg. She's jealous, as I live! Look you, my lord,

The princess has a boy.

Pha. His form is angel-like.

Dion. Serves he the princess?
Thra. Yes.

Dion. 'Tis a sweet boy.

Pha. Ladies all, good rest. I mean to kill a buck To-morrow morning, ere you've done your dreams. [Exit Phar. Meg. All happiness attend your grace. Gentlemen, good rest.

Gal. All, good night. [Exeunt Gal. and Meg. Dion. May your dreams be true to you. What shall we do, gallants? 'Tis late. Is up still. See, he comes, and Arethusa With him.

The king

Enter KING, ARETHUSA, and guard.
King. Look your intelligence be true.

Are. Upon my life it is. And I do hope Your highness will not tie me to a man, That in the heat of wooing throws me off, And takes another.

Dion. What should this mean?

King. If it be true,

That lady had much better have embrac'd

Cureless diseases.

Get you to your rest.

43

[Exeunt Are. and Bel.

You shall be righted. Gentlemen, draw near.

Haste, some of you, and cunningly discover
If Megra be in her lodging.

Cler. Sir,

She parted hence but now, with other ladies.
King. I would speak with her.

Dion. She's here, my lord.

Enter MEGRA.

King. Now, lady of honour, where's

now?

your

honour

No man can fit your palate but the prince.
Thou troubled sea of sin; thou wilderness,
Inhabited by wild affections, tell me,

Had you none to pull on with your courtesies

But he that must be mine, and wrong my daughter?
By all the gods! all these, and all the court
Shall hoot thee, and break scurvy jests upon thee,
Make ribald rhimes, and sear thy name on walls.
Meg. I dare, my lord, your hootings and

mours,

your

cla