That love black deeds, learn to diffemble here! A maiden fnow that melted with my looks. Bel. Scarce like her servant, but as if I were As mothers fond do ufe their only fons ; Phi. Why, this is wondrous well! But what kind language does fhe feed thee with ? Phi. This is much better ftill, Bel Bel. Methinks your words Fall not from off your tongue fo evenly, Phi. Thou art deceiv'd, boy: And she strokes thy head? Bel. Yes. Phi. And does clap thy cheeks? Bel. She does, my lord. Phi. And she does kifs thee, boy? ha? Bel. How, my lord! Phi. She kiffes thee? Bel. Not fo, my lord. Phi. Come, come, I know she does. Bel. No, by my life. Phi. Why, then she does not love me; come, The does, I bad her do it; I charg'd her by all charms Is the not past compare? Is not her breath Bel. Ay, now I fee why my difturbed thoughts Were fo perplex'd. When first I went to her, My heart held augury; you are abus'd; come, Thou shalt know all my drift: I hate her more Than I love happiness; and plac'd thee there, with narrow eyes into her deeds. To pry Haft thou difcover'd? Is the fall'n to luft, As I would wish her? Speak fome comfort to me. Bel. My lord, you did mistake the boy you fent: Had fhe a fin that way, hid from the world, Beyond the name of fin, I would not aid Her bafe defires; but what I came to know As fervant to her, I would not reveal, To make life laft ages. my Phi. Oh, my heart! This is a falve worfe than the main disease. Tell me thy thoughts; for I will know the least To know it; I will fee thy thoughts as plain Bel. Why, fo you do. She is (for aught I know) by all the gods, As As chafte as ice; but were the foul as hell, The points of swords, tortures, nor bulls of brass, Should draw it from me. Phi. Then it is no time To dally with thee; I will take thy life, For I do hate thee; I could curfe thee now. Bel. If you do hate, you could not curfe me worse; The gods have not a punishment in store Greater for me, than is your hate. Phi. Fy, fy! So young and fo diffembling! Tell me when And where thou didst poffefs her, or let plagues Fall on me ftraight, if I destroy thee not! Bel. Heav'n knows, I never did: And when I lie To fave my life, may I live long and loath'd! Hew me afunder, and, whilst I can think, I'll love those pieces you have cut away, Better than those that grow; and kifs those limbs, Because you made them fo. Phi. Fear'st thou not death? Can boys contemn that? Bel. Oh, what boy is he Can be content to live to be a man, That fees the best of men thus paffionate, Thus without reason? Phi. Oh, but thou doft not know What 'tis to die. Bel. Yes, I do know, my lord ; A thing we all pursue: I know, besides, That must be loft. Phi. But there are pains, false boy, For perjur'd fouls; think but on these, and then Phi. Oh, what fhould I do? Why, who can but believe him? He does fwear So earnestly, that if it were not true, The gods would not endure him. Rife, Bellario; Doft look fo truly, when thou utter'ft them, Thy |