Dion. What fhould this mean?

King. If it be true,

That lady had much better have embrac'd
Cureless diseases. Get you to your reft.

[Exeunt Arethufa and Bellari.

You fhall be righted. Gentlemen, draw near:
Hafte, fome of you, and cunningly discover
If Megra be in her lodging.

Clere. Sir,

She parted hence but now with other ladies.

King. I would fpeak with her.

Dion. She's here, my lord.

Enter Megra.

King. Now, lady of honour, where's your honour now?

No man can fit your palate, but the prince.
Thou troubled fea of fin; thou wilderness
Inhabited by wild affections, tell ine,

Had you none to pull on with your courtefies
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 jefts upon thee,
Make ribald rhimes, and fear thy name on walls.
Megra. I dare, my lord, your hootings and your

clamours.

Your

{

Your private whispers, and your broader fleerings,
Can no more vex my foul, than this base carriage,
The poor deftruction of a lady's honour,
The publishing the weakness of a woman.
But I have vengeance yet in ftore for some,
Shall, in the utmost scorn you can have of me,
Be joy and nourishment.

King. What means the wanton?

D'ye glory in your shame?

Megra. I will have fellows,

Such fellows in't, as fhall make noble mirth.

The princefs, your dear daughter, shall stand by me
On walls, and fung in ballads, any thing.

King. My daughter!

Megra. Yes, your daughter Arethufa,

The glory of your Sicily, which I,

A ftranger to your kingdom, laugh to fcorn.

I know her fhame, and will discover all:

Nay, will dishonour her. I know the boy

She keeps, a handfome boy, about eighteen;

Know what fhe does with him, and where, and

when.

Come, Sir, you put me to a woman's madnefs,

The glory of a fury.

King. What boy's this

She raves about?

Megra.

Megra. Alas, good-minded prince!

You know not thefe things: I will make them

plain.

I will not fall alone: What I have known
Shall be as public as a print; all tongues
Shall speak it, as they do the language they
Are born in, as free and commonly: I'll fet it
Like a prodigious ftar, for all to gaze at;
And that fo high and glowing, other realms,
Foreign and far, fhall read it there; and then
Behold the fall of your fair princess too.

King. Has fhe a boy?

Clere. So please your grace, I've seen

A boy wait on her, a fair boy.

[Exit.

King. Away! I'd be alone. Go, get you to

your quarters.

Manet King.

[Exeunt.

You gods, I fee, that who unrighteously
Holds wealth or ftate from others, fhall be curft

In that which meaner men are bleft withal:
Ages to come fhall know no male of him
Left to inherit, and his name fhall be

Blotted from earth. If he have any child,

It shall be crossly match'd. The gods themfelves Shall fow wild ftrife between her lord and her;

Or

Or she shall prove his curfe, who gave her being,
Gods! if it be your wills-but how can I
Look to be heard of gods, who must be juft,
Praying upon the ground I hold by wrong?

A

CT

III.

[Exit.

SCENE, the Court.

Enter Philafter.

H, that I had a fea

Within my breaft, to quench the fire I feel! More circumftances will but fan this fire. It more afflicts me now, to know by whom This deed is done, than fimply that 'tis done. Woman, frail fex! the winds that are let loofe From the four several corners of the earth, And spread themselves all over sea and land, Kiss not a chafte one! Taken with her boy! O, that, like beafts, we could not grieve ourfelves With what we see not! Bulls and rams will fight To keep their females standing in their fight; But take 'em from them, and you take at once

Their fpleens away; and they will fall again
Unto their pastures, growing fresh and fat §
And tafte the water of the springs as sweet
As 'twas before, finding no start in sleep.
But miferable man-See, fee, you gods,
[Seeing Bellario at a distance:
He walks ftill! and the face, you let him wear
When he was innocent, is still the fame,
Not blafted. Is this juftice? Do you mean
To intrap mortality, that you allow
Treafon fo fmooth a Brow?

I cannot now

Think he is guilty.

Enter Bellario.

Bel. Health to you, my lord!

The princess doth commend her love, her life.

And this unto you.

Phi. Oh, Bellario,

[Gives a letter:

Now I perceive the loves me; she does fhew it In loving thee, my boy; fh'has made thee brave.

Bel. My lord, fhe has attired me paft my wifh, Paft my defert; more fit for her attendant, Though far unfit for me, who do attend.

Phi. Thou art grown courtly, boy. Oh, let all

women,

VOL. III.

E

[Reads.

That