You have put hills of fire into this breaft,
Not to be quench'd with tears; for which may guilt
Sit on your bofoms! at your meals, and beds,
Despair await you! what, before my face?
Poison of afps between your lips! Diseases
Be your beft iffues! Nature make a curfe,
And throw it on you!

Are. Dear Philafter, leave

To be enrag'd, and hear me.
Phi. I have done;

Forgive my paffion. Not the calmed fea,
When Eolus locks up his windy brood,
Is lefs disturb'd than I. I'll make you know it.
Dear Arethusa, do but take this fword,
And fearch how temperate a heart I have;
Then you, and this your boy, may live and reign
In luft, without controul. Wilt thou, Bellario?
I prithee, kill me; thou art poor, and may'ft
Nourish ambitious thoughts, when I am dead:
This way were freer.

Are. Kill you!

Bel. Not for a world.

Phi. I blame not thee,

Bellario; thou haft done but that which gods Would have transform'd themfelves to do! be gone, Leave me without reply; this is the last

Of

Of all our meeting. Kill me with this sword!
Be wife, or worse will follow; we are two

Earth cannot bear at once. Refolve to do, or fuffer.

Are. If my fortunes be fo good to let me fall
Upon thy hand, I fhall have peace in death.
Yet tell me this, will there be no flanders,
No jealousies in the other world, no ill there?
Phi. No.

Are. Shew me then the way.

Phi. Then guide

My feeble hand, you that have pow'r to do it!
For I must perform a piece of juftice. If your youth
Have any way offended Heav'n, let pray'rs
Short and effectual reconcile you to it!

Enter a country fellow.

Coun. I will fee the king if he be in the foreft; I have hunted him these two hours; if I fhould come home and not fee him, my fifters would laugh at me. There's a courtier with his fword drawn, by this hand, upon a woman, I think.

Are. I am prepar'd.

Phi. Are you at peace?

Are. With Heav'n and earth.

Phi. May they divide thy foul and body!

F 4

Coun

Coun. Hold, daftard! offer to strike a woman!

Phi. Leave us, good friend.

[preventing him.

Are. What ill-bred man art thou, to intrude

thyfelf

Upon our private sports, our recreations?

Coun. I understand you not; but I know the knave would have hurt you.

Phi. Pursue thy own affairs; it will be ill To multiply blood upon my head, which thou wilt force me to.

fit

Coun. I know not your rhetorick; but I can lay on, if you offer to touch the woman.

Phi. Slave, take what thou deferv'ft. [they fight.
Are. Heav'ns guard my lord!

Bel. Unmanner'd boor!-my lord!

[interpofing, is wounded.

Phi. I hear the tread of people: I am hurt. The gods take part against me; could this boor Have held me thus elfe? I muft fhift for life, Though I do loath it.

Coun. I cannot follow the

[Exeunt Phi. and Bel.

rogue.

Enter Pharamond, Dion, Cleremont, Thrafiline, and

Woodmen.

Pha. What art thou?

Coun.

Coun. Almoft kill'd I am for a foolish woman;

a knave would have hurt her.

Pha. The princefs, gentlemen!

Dion. 'Tis above wonder! Who fhould dare do this?

Pha. Speak, villain, who would have hurt the princess?

Coun. Is it the princess?

Dion. Ay.

Coun. Then I have feen fomething yet.

Pha. But who would have hurt her?

Coun. I told you, a rogue; I ne'er faw him

before, I.

Pha. Madam, who was it?

Are. Some difhoneft wretch;

Alas! I know him not, and do forgive him.

Coun. He's hurt himfelf, and foundly too, he cannot go far; I made my father's old fox fly about his ears.

Pha. How will you have me kill him?
Are. Not at all,

'Tis some distracted fellow.

If you do take him, bring him quick to me,
And I will study for a punishment,

Great as his fault.

Pha. I will.

Are.

Are. But fwear.

Pha. By all my love, I will:

Woodmen, conduct the princefs to the king, And bear that wounded fellow unto dreffing: Come, gentlemen, we'll follow the chace close.

I

[Exe. Are. Pha. Dion, Clere. Thra. and Wood. Coun. I pray you, friend, let me see the king. 2 Wood. That you fhall, and receive thanks. Coun. If I get clear of this, I'll go fee no more gay fights.

Scene, another part of the wood.

Enter Bellario, with a fearf.

[Exeunt.

Bel. Yes, I am hurt; and 'would to Heav'n it

were

A death's wound to me! I am faint and weak,
With lofs of blood: My fpirits ebb apace:
A heaviness near death fits on my brow,
And I must fleep: Bear me, thou gentle bank,
For ever, if thou wilt; you fweet ones all,
Let me unworthy prefs you: I could wish,
I rather were a corfe ftrew'd over with you,
Than quick above you. Dullness shuts mine eyes,
And I am giddy. Oh! that I could take
So found a fleep, that I might never wake.

Enter