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Thou Mars of men ? Is the king fociable,
And bids thee live? art thou above thy foemen,
And free as Phoebus ? Speak; if not, this stand
Of royal blood shall be abroach, a-tilt, and run
Even to the lees of honour.

Phi. Hold and be fatisfied ; I am myself,
Free as my thoughts are; by the gods, I am.

Capt. Art thou the dainty darling of the king ?
Art thou the Hylas to our Hercules ?
Is the court navigable, and the presence stuck
With flags of friendship? If not, we are thy castle,
And this man sleeps.

Phi. I am what I desire to be, your friend;
I am what I was born to be, your prince.

Pha. Sir, there is some humanity in you;
You have a noble foul; forget my name,
And know my mifery ; set me fafe aboard
From these wild canibals, and, as I live,
I'll quit this land for ever.

Phi. I do pity you : Friends, discharge your fears;
Deliver me the prince.
Good my friends, go to your houses, and by me have
Your pardons, and my love ;
And know, there shall be nothing in my pow'r
You may deserve, but you shall have


wishes. All. Long may'st thou live, brave prince !

Brave prince ! brave prince !

[Exeunt Phi. and Pha. Capt. Go thy ways; thou art the king of courtesy: Fall off again, my sweet youths ; come, and every man trace to his house again, and hang his pewter up; then to the tavern, and bring your wives in muffs : We will have musick, and the red grape shall make us dance and rise, boys ! [Exeunt.

Scene changes to the court. Enter King, Arethufa, Galatea, Megra, Cleremont,

Dion, Thrafiline, Bellario, and attendants. King: Is it appeas'd ?

Dion. Sir, all is quiet as the dead of night,
As peaceable as sleep: My lord Philaster
Brings on the prince himself.

King. Kind gentleman!
I will not break the least word I have giv'n
In promise to him. I have heap'd a world
Of grief upon his head, which yet I hope
To wash away.

Enter Philafter and Pharamand.
Clere. My lord is come.

King. My fon!
Blest be the time, that I have leave to call
Such virtue mine! Now thou art in mine arms,


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Methinks I have a falve unto my breast
For all the stings that dwell there : Streams of grief
That I have wrong’d thee, and as much of joy
That I repent it, issue from mine eyes :
Let them appease thee; take thy right; take her,
She is thy right too, and forget to urge
My vexed foul with that I did before.

Phi. Sir, it is blotted from my memory,
Past and forgotten. For you, prince of Spain,
Whom I have thus redeem'd, you have full leave
To make an honourable voyage home.
And if

go furnish'd to your realm With fair provision, I do see a lady, Methinks, would gladly bear you company.

Meg. Shall I then alone
Be made the mark of obloquy and scorn?
Can shame remain perpetually in me,
And not in others ? or have princes salves
To cure ill names, that meaner people want ?

Phi. What mean you ?

Meg. You must get another ship
To bear the princess and the boy together.

Dion. How now!

Meg. I have already publish'd both their shames. Ship us all four, my lord; we can endure Weather and wind alike.

King. Clear thou thyself, or know not me for

father. Are. This earth, how false it is! what means is left For me to clear myself? It lies in


My lord, believe me, and let all things else
Struggle together to dishonour me.
Bel. Oh, stop your ears, great king, that I

may speak As freedom would: Then I will call this lady As base as be her actions. Hear me, Sir; Believe your hated blood when it rebels Against your reason, sooner than this lady.

Phi. This lady? I will sooner trust the wind
With feathers, or the troubled sea with pearl,
Than her with any thing : Believe her not?
Why, think you, if I did believe her words,
I would outlive 'em ? Honour cannot take
Revenge on you; then what were to be known
But death?

King. Forget her, Sir, since all is knit
Between us : But I must request of you
One favour, and will fadly be denied.

Phi. Command, whate'er it be.

King. Swear to be true
To what you promise.
Phi, By the pow'rs above,


Let it not be the death of her or him,
And it is granted.

King. Bear away the boy
To torture. I will have her clear'd or buried.

Phi. Oh, let me call my words back, worthy Sir;
Ask something else: Bury my life and right
In one poor grave; but do not take away
My life and fame at once.

King. Away with him ; it stands irrevocable.
Bel. Oh, kill me, gentlemen!
Dion. No help, Sirs.
Bel. Will you torture me?
King. Haste there ; why stay you?

Bel. Then I shall not break my vow,
You know, just gods, though I discover all.

King. How's that? will he confess?
Dion. Sir, so he says.
King. Speak then.

Bel. Great king, if you'll command
This lord to talk with me alone, my tongue,
Urg'd by my heart, shall útter all the thoughts
My youth hath known, and stranger things than

these You hear not often. King. Walk afide with him. [Dion and Bell. walk aside together.

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