And the new platform, with some gentle

men

Attending on him.

King.

Is the princess ready To bring her prisoner out? Thra. She waits your grace. King. Tell her we stay.

Exit Thrasiline. Dion. (Aside.) King, you may be deceiv'd yet.

The head you aim at cost more setting on Than to be lost so lightly. If it must off,—

Like a wild overflow, that swoops before him

A golden stack, and with it shakes down bridges,

Cracks the strong hearts of pines, whose cable-roots

Held out a thousand storms, a thousand thunders,

And, so made mightier, takes whole vil

lages

Upon his back, and in that heat of pride Charges strong towns, towers, castles, palaces,

And lays them desolate; so shall thy head,

Thy noble head, bury the lives of thou

sands,

That must bleed with thee like a sacrifice, In thy red ruins.

Enter Arethusa, Philaster, Bellario in a robe and garland, and Thrasiline.

King. How now? What masque is this? Bel. Right royal sir, I should

Sing you an epithalamion of these lovers, But having lost my best airs with my fortunes,

And wanting a celestial harp to strike This blessed union on, thus in glad story I give you all. These two fair cedarbranches,

The noblest of the mountain where they grew,

Straightest and tallest, under whose still

Oh, there was none but silent quiet there! Till never-pleased Fortune shot up shrubs,

Base under-brambles, to divorce these branches;

And for a while they did so, and did reign

Over the mountain, and choke up his beauty

With brakes, rude thorns and thistles, till the sun

Scorcht them even to the roots and dried them there.

And now a gentle gale hath blown again, That made these branches meet and twine together,

Never to be divided. The god that sings His holy numbers over marriage-beds Hath knit their noble hearts; and here they stand

Your children, mighty King; and I have done.

He's taken prisoner by the citizens,
Fearing 80 the Lord Philaster.

Dion. (Aside.) Oh, brave followers!
Mutiny, my fine dear
mutiny!

countrymen,

Now, my brave valiant foremen, show your weapons

In honor of your mistresses!

Enter a Second Messenger.

2 Mess. Arm, arm, arm, arm! King. A thousand devils take 'em! Dion. (Aside.) A thousand blessings on 'em!

2 Mess. Arm, O King! The city is in mutiny,

Led by an old gray ruffian, who comes on In rescue of the Lord Philaster.

King. Away to the citadel! I'll see them safe,

And then cope with these burghers. Let

the guard

fall not back upon the first broken skin, I'll have you chronicled and chronicled, and cut and chronicled, and all-to-beprais'd and sung in sonnets, and bawled in new brave ballads, that all tongues shall troll you in saecula saeculorum, my kind can-carriers.

Thra. What, if a toy 82 take 'em i' th'

heels now, and they run all away, and cry, "the devil take the hindmost"? Dion. Then the same devil take the foremost too, and souse him for his breakfast! If they all prove cowards, my curses fly among them, and be speeding! May they have murrains reign to keep the gentlemen at home unbound in easy frieze! May the moths branch 83 their velvets, and their silks only be worn before sore eyes! 8+ May their false lights undo 'em, and discover presses,85 holes, stains, and oldness in their stuffs, and make them shop-rid! May they keep whores and horses, and break; and live mewed up with necks of beef and turnips! May they have many children, and none like the father! May they know no language but that gibberish they prattle to their parcels, unless it be the goatish Latin they write in their bondsand may they write that false, and lose their debts!

King.

Re-enter King.

Now the vengeance of all the gods confound them! How they swarm together! What a hum they raise!Devils choke your wild throats!—If a man had need to use their valors, he must pay a brokage for it, and then bring 'em on, and they will fight like sheep. 'Tis Philaster, none but Philaster, must allay this heat. They will not hear me speak, but fling dirt at me and call me tyrant. Oh, run, dear friend, and bring the Lord Philaster! Speak him fair; call him prince; do him all the courtesy you can; commend me to him. Oh, my wits, my wits!

Exit Cleremont. Dion. (Aside.) Oh, my brave countrymen! as I live, I will not buy a pin out of your walls 86 for this. Nay, you shall cozen me, and I'll thank you, and send you brawn and bacon, and soil 87 every long vacation a brace of foremen,88 that at Michaelmas shall come up fat and kicking.

you

King. What they will do with this poor prince, the gods know, and I fear. Dion. (Aside.) Why, sir, they'll flay him, and make church-buckets on 's skin, to quench rebellion; then clap a rivet in 's sconce, and hang him up for a sign.

Enter Cleremont with Philaster. King. Oh, worthy sir, forgive me! Do not make

Your miseries and my faults meet together,

To bring a greater danger. Be yourself, Still sound amongst diseases. I have wrong'd you;

And though I find it last, and beaten to it,

Let first your goodness know it. Calm the people,

And be what you were born to. Take your love,

And with her my repentance, all my wishes,

And all my prayers. By the gods, my heart speaks this;

And if the least fall from me not perform'd,

May I be struck with thunder!

Phi. Mighty sir, I will not do your greatness so much wrong,

As not to make your word truth. Free the princess

And the poor boy, and let me stand the shock

Of this mad sea-breach, which I'll either turn,

Or perish with it. King.

Let your own word free them. Phi. Then thus I take my leave, kissing your hand,

And hanging on your royal word. Be kingly,

And be not mov'd, sir. I shall bring you peace,

Or never bring myself back. King. All the gods go with thee.

SCENE 4. A street.

Exeunt.

Shall be scratch'd with a musket." prince Pippin,"

Dear

Down with your noble blood, or, as I live,

I'll have you coddled.—Let him loose, my spirits:

Make us a round ring with your bills," my Hectors,

And let us see what this trim man dares do.

Now, sir, have at you! here I lie; And with this swashing blow (do you see, sweet prince?)

I could hulk 10 your grace, and hang you up cross-legg'd,

Like a hare at a poulter's, and do this with this wiper.11

Pha. You will not see me murder'd, wicked villains?

1 Cit. Yes, indeed, will we, sir; we have not seen one

97 cringers (?),

в а

Pha. Good gods, consider me! I shall be tortur'd.

1 Cit. Captain, I'll give you the trimming of your two-hand sword,

And let me have his skin to make false scabbards.

2 Cit. He had no horns, sir, had he? Cap. No, sir, he's a pollard.23

What wouldst thou do with horns? 2 Cit. Oh, if he had had, I would have made rare hafts and whistles of 'em;

But his shin-bones, if they be sound, shall

Of royal blood shall be abroach, a-tilt,
And run even to the lees of honor.

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

am!

Cap. Art thou the dainty darling of the King?

Art thou the Hylas to our Hercules? Do the lords bow, and the regarded scarlets 28

Kiss their gumm'd golls,29 and cry, "We are your servants"?

Is the court navigable and the presence SO stuck

With flags of friendship? If not, we

are thy castle,

And this man sleeps.

Of all sorts, of all dangers, and all together,

The worst company of the worst men,

madness, age,

To be as many creatures as a woman, And do as all they do, nay, to despair,But I would rather make it a new nature, And live with all these, than endure one hour

Amongst these wild dogs.

Phi. I do pity you.-Friends, discharge your fears;

romance