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Coun. Almoft kill'd I am for a foolish woman; a knave would have hurt her.

Pha. The princess, gentlemen!
Dion. 'Tis above wonder! Who should dare do

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

princess ?
Coun. Is it the princess?
Dion. Ay.
Coun. Then I have seen something yet.
Pha. But who would have hurt her ?

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

Pha. Madam, who was it?

Are. Some dishonest wretch;
Alas! I know him not, and do forgive him.

Coun. He's hurt himself, 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. But fwear.

Pha. By all my love, I will:
Woodmen, conduct the princess to the king,
And bear that wounded fellow unto dressing :
Come, gentlemen, we'll follow the chace close.

[Exe. Are. Pha. Dion, Clere. Thra. and Wood.
Coun. I pray you, friend, let me see the king.
2 Wood. That you fall, and receive thanks.

Coun. If I get clear of this, I'll go see no more gay fights.


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Enter Bellario, with a scarf.
Bel. Yes, I am hurt; and 'would to Heay'n it


A death's wound to me! I am faint and weak,
With loss of blood: My fpirits ebb apace :
A heaviness near death fits on my brow,
And I must sleep: Bear me, thou gentle bank,
For ever,
if thou wilt ; you

sweet ones all,
Let me unworthy press you: I could wish,
I rather were a corse strew'd over with you,
Than quick above you. Dullness shuts mine eyes,
And I am giddy. Oh! that I could take
So found a sleep, that I might never wake.


Enter Philafter. Phi. I have done ill; my conscience calls me

false. What, strike at her, that would not strike at me! When I did fight, methought, I heard her pray The gods to guard me. She may be abus'd, And I a loathed villain : If she be, She'll not discover me; the slave has wounds, And cannot follow, neither knows he me. Who's this ? Bellario fleeping! If thou beeft Guilty, there is no justice that thy ileep Should be so found; and mine, whom thou haft

wrong'd, So broken. Bel. Who is there ? my lord Philaster!

[A cry within. . Hark! you are pursu’d; fly, fly my lord! and save Yourself. · Phi. How's this! wouldst thou I should be fafe?

Bel. Elfe were it vain for me to live; oh, feize, My lord, thefe offer'd means of your escape ! The princess, I am sure, will ne'er reveal you ; They have no mark to know you, but your wounds; I, coming in betwixt the boor and you, Was wounded too. To stay the loss of blood I did bind on this scarf, which thus

I tear away. Fly! and 'twill be believ'd 'Twas I assail'd the princess.

Pbị. 0 heavens ! What hast thou done ? Art thou then true to me?

Bel. Or let meperish loath'd! come, my good lord, Creep in amongst those bushes : Who does know, But that the gods may fave your much-lov'd breath?

Phi. Oh, I shall die for grief! what wilt thou do? Bel. Shiftfor myselfwell: Peace, I hear'em come! Within. Follow, follow, follow; that way they

went. Bel. With my own wounds I'll bloody my own

sword ! I need not counterfeit to fall; Heav'n knows That I can stand no longer.

Enter Pharamond, Dion, Cleremont, Thrafiline, &c. Pha. To this place we have track'd him by his

blood. Clere. Yonder, my lord, creeps one' away, Dion. Stay, Sir, what are you?

Bel. A wretched creature wounded in these woods
By beasts! relieve me, if your names be men,
Or I shall perish!

Dion. This is he, my lord,
Upon my soul, afrail'd her; 'tis the boy,


That wicked boy, that serv'd her.

Pha. Oh, thou damn'd
In thy creation ! what cause couldst thou shape
To hurt the princess ?

Bel. Then I am betray'd.
Dion. Betray'd! no, apprehended.

Bel. I confess,
Urge it no more, that, big with evil thoughts,
I set upon her, and did make my aim
Her death. For charity, let fall at once
The punishment you mean, and do not load
This weary flesh with tortures !

Pha. I will know
Who hir'd thee to this deed.

Bel. My own revenge.
Pha. Revenge, for what?

Bel. It pleas'd her to receive
Me as her page, and, when my fortunes ebb’d,
That men strid o'er them careless, she did shower
Her welcome graces on me, and did swell
My fortunes, till they overflow'd their banks,
Threatning the men that croft 'em ; when, as swift
As storms arife at fea, she turn'd her eyes
To burning suns upon me, and did dry
The streams she had bestow'd ; leaving me worse,
And more contemn'd than other little brooks,


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