Bellario. Sir, if I have made A fault of ignorance, instruct my youth; Philaster. Thy love doth plead so prettily to stay, That, trust me, I could weep to part with thee. Alas, I do not turn thee off: thou know'st It is my business that doth call me hence; And when thou art with her thou dwell'st with me: With joy receive thee: as I live, I will. Bellario. I am gone. And since I am to part with you, my lord, Philaster's mind being poisoned with jealousy that his Mistress is perfidiously attached to the Page, he tries to extort the supposed secret from Bellario. Philaster. See-see, you gods! Enter BELLARIO. He walks still, and the face you let him wear Treason so smooth a brow? Think he is guilty. I cannot now Bell. Health to you, my lord: The princess doth commend to you her love, her life, And this, unto you. Phil. Oh, Bellario, Now I perceive she loves me; she does shew it In loving thee, my boy: she's made thee brave. Bell. My lord, she has attir'd me past my wish, Past my desert, more fit for her attendantThough far unfit for me who do attend. Phil. Thou art grown courtly, boy. Oh, let all women That love black deeds learn to dissemble here: Here, by this paper, she does write to me Tell me, my boy, how doth the princess use thee? Bell. Scarce like her servant, but as if I were As mothers fond do use their only sons; As I'd use one that's left unto my trust, For whom my life should pay if he met harm— Phil. Why, this is wond'rous well; But what kind language does she feed thee with? Phil. This is much better still. Bell. Are you not ill, my lord? Bell. Methinks your words Fall not from off your tongue so evenly, Nor is there in your looks that quietness That I was wont to see. Phil. Thou art deceiv'd, boy. And she strokes thy head? Bell. Yes. .Phil. And does she clap thy cheeks? Phil. And does she kiss thee, boy?-ha! Bell. Not so, my lord. Phil. Come, come, I know she does. This is a salve worse than the main disease. Bell. Why, so you do. She is (for aught I know), by all the gods, Phil. Then it is no time To dally with thee:-I will take thy life, For I do hate thee. I could curse thee now. Bell. If you do hate, you could not curse me worse. The gods have not a punishment in store Greater for me than is your hate. Phil Fie, fie! so young and so dissembling. Tell me when and where **** Or plagues fall on me if I destroy thee not! Bell. Heav'n knows I never did; and when I lie To save my life, may I live long and loath'd! Hew me asunder; and, whilst I can think, Better than those that grow, and kiss those limbs Because you made them so. Phil. Fear'st thou not death? Can boys contemn that? Bell. Oh, what boy is he Can be content to live to be a man, That sees the best of men thus passionate, Phil. Oh, but thou dost not know Bell. Yes, I do know, my lord, 'Tis less than to be born-a lasting sleep, A thing we all pursue. I know, besides, Bell. May they fall all upon me whilst I live, If I be perjur'd, or have ever thought Of that you charge me with! If I be false, You speak of kill me! Phil. Oh! what should I do? Why who can but believe him? he does swear So earnestly, that if it were not true The gods would not endure him. Rise, Bellario; Thy protestations are so deep, and thou Dost look so truly when thou utter'st them, That though I know 'em false as were my hopes, |