Phi. But, Bellario,

(For I must call thee still so) tell me why
Thou didst conceal thy sex? It was a fault;
A fault, Bellario, though thy other deeds
Of truth outweighed it: all these jealousies
Had flown to nothing, if thou hadst discovered
What now we know.

Bel. My father oft would speak
Your worth and virtue; and, as I did grow
More and more apprehensive, I did thirst
To see the man so praised; but yet all this
Was but a maiden longing, to be lost
As soon as found; till sitting in my window,
Printing my thoughts in lawn, I saw a god,
I thought, but it was you) enter our gates.
My blood flew out, and back again as fast,
As I had puffed it forth and sucked it in
Like breath; then was I called away in haste,
To entertain you. Never was a man,
Heaved from a sheep-cot to a sceptre, raised
So high in thoughts as I you left a kiss
Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep
From you for ever. I did hear you talk,
Far above singing! after you were gone,
I grew acquainted with my heart, and searched
What stirred it so: alas! I found it love;
Yet far from lust; for could I but have lived
In presence of you, I had had my end.
For this I did delude my noble father
With a feigned pilgrimage, and dressed myself
In habit of a boy; and, for I knew
My birth no match for you, I was past hope
Of having you; and, understanding well,
That, when I made discovery of my sex,
I could not stay with you, I made a vow,
By all the most religious things a maid
Could call together, never to be known,
Whilst there was hope to hide me from men's eyes,
For other than I seemed, that I might ever
Abide with you: then sat I by the fount,
Where first you took me up.

Are. And I, Philaster,

Cannot be jealous, though you had a lady Dressed like a page to serve you; nor will I Suspect her living here. Come, live with me; Live free, as I do. She, that loves my lord, Curst be the wife that hates her!

Phi. I grieve such virtues should be laid in earth Without an heir. Hear me, my royal father: Wrong not the freedom of our souls so much, To think to take revenge of that base woman; Her malice cannot hurt us. Set her free As she was born, saving from shame and sin.

King. Set her at liberty; but leave the court; This is no place for such! You, Pharamond, Shall have free passage, and a conduct home, Worthy so great a prince. When you come there, Remember, 'twas your faults, that lost you her, And not my purposed will.

Pha. I do confess,

Renowned sir,

King. Last, join your hands in one. Enjoy,
Philaster,

This kingdom, which is yours, and after me
Whatever I call mine. My blessing on you!
All happy hours be at your marriage joys,
That you may grow yourselves over all lands,
And live to see your plenteous branches spring
Wherever there is sun! let princes learn
By this, to rule the passions of their blood,
For what heaven wills can never be withstood.

[Exeunt omnes,

VOL. I.

14

And, nursed together, make a conqueror; Divided, but a talker. "Tis a truth,

That Rome has fled before us twice, and routed;
A truth we ought to crown the gods for, lady,
And not our tongues; a truth is none of ours,
Nor in our ends, more than the noble bearing;
For then it leaves to be a virtue, lady,
And we, that have been victors, beat ourselves,
When we insult upon our honour's subject.
Bond. My valiant cousin, is it foul to say
What liberty and honour bid us do,

And what the gods allow us?

Car. No, Bonduca :

So what we say exceed not what we do.
You call the Romans fearful, fleeing Romans,
*And Roman girls, the lees of tainted pleasures:
Does this become a doer? are they such?

Bond. They are no more.

Car. Where is your conquest then? Why are your altars crowned with wreaths of flowers?

The beasts with gilt horns waiting for the fire?
The holy Druides composing songs
Of everlasting life to victory?

Why are these triumphs, lady? for a May-game?
For hunting a poor herd of wretched Romans?
Is it no more? Shut up your temples, Britons,
And let the husbandman redeem his heifers,
Put out our holy fires, no timbrel ring,
Let's home and sleep; for such great overthrows
A candle burns too bright a sacrifice,

A glow-worm's tail too full of flame. Oh, Nen

nius,

Thou hadst a noble uncle, knew a Roman,
And how to speak him, how to give him weight
In both his fortunes.

Bond. By the gods, I think

You doat upon these Romans, Caratach!
Car. Witness these wounds, I do; they were
fairly given:

I love an enemy; I was born a soldier;
And he that in the head'on's troop defies me,
Bending my manly body with his sword,
I make a mistress. Yellow-tressed Hymen
Ne'er tied a longing virgin with more joy,
Than I am married to that man, that wounds me:
And are not all these Roman? Ten struck battles
I sucked these honoured scars from, and all Ro-

cuirass,

And made it doubtful, whether that or I
Were the more stubborn metal) have I wrought
through,

And all to try these Romans. Ten times a-night
I have swam the rivers, when the stars of Rome
Shot at me as I floated, and the billows
Tumbled their watry ruins on my shoulders,
Charging my battered sides with troops of agues;
And still to try these Romans, whom I found
(And, if I lie, my wounds be henceforth back-
ward,

And be you witness, gods, and all my dangers)

As ready, and as full of that I brought,
(Which was not fear, nor flight) as valiant,
As vigilant, as wise, to do and suffer,
Ever advanced as forward as the Britons,
Their sleeps as short, their hopes as high as ours,
Ay, and as subtle, lady. 'Tis dishonour,
And, followed, will be impudence, Bonduca,
And grow to no belief, to taint these Romans.
Have not I seen the Britons-

Bond. What?

Car. Disheartened,

Run, run, Bonduca! not the quick rack swifter;
The virgin from the hated ravisher

Not half so fearful; not a flight drawn home,“
A round stone from a sling, a lover's wish,
E'er made that haste, that they have. By the gods,
I've seen these Britons, that you magnify,
Run as they would have out-run time, and roaring,
Basely for mercy roaring; the light shadows
That in a thought scur o'er the fields of corn,
Halted on crutches to them.

Bond. Oh, ye powers,
What scandals do I suffer!

Car. Yes, Bonduca,

I've seen thee run too; and thee, Nennius;
Yea, run apace, both; then, when Penius
(The Roman girl!) cut through your armed carts,
And drove them headlong on ye, down the hill;
Then, when he hunted ye like Britain foxes,
More by the scent than sight; then did I see
These valiant and approved men of Britain,
Like boding owls, creep into tods of ivy,
And hoot their fears to one another nightly.
Nen. And what did you then, Caratach?
Car. I fled too,

But not so fast; your jewel had been lost then,
Young Hengo there; he trasht me, Nennius:
For, when your fears out-run him, then stept I,
And in the head of all the Roman fury
Took him, and, with my tough belt, to my back
I buckled him; behind him, my sure shield;
And then I followed. If I say I fought
Five times in bringing off this bud of Britain,
I lie not, Nennius. Neither had you heard
Me speak this, or ever seen the child more,
But that the son of virtue, Penius,
Seeing me steer through all these storms of danger,
My helm still in my hand (my sword,) my prow
Turned to my foe (my face,) he cried out nobly,
'Go, Briton, bear thy lion's whelp off safely;
Thy manly sword has ransomed thee; grow strong,
And let me meet thee once again in arms;
Then, if thou stand'st, thou art mine.' I took his
offer,

And here I am to honour him.

Bond. Oh, cousin,

From what a flight of honour hast thou checked

me!

What wouldst thou make me, Caratach?
Car. See, lady,

The noble use of others in our losses.

Does this afflict you? Had the Romans cried this, And, as we have done theirs, sung out these fortunes,

Railed on our base condition, hooted at us, Made marks as far as the earth was ours, to shew us

Nothing but sea could stop our flights, despised

us,

And held it equal, whether banquetting
Or beating of the Britons were more business,
It would have galled you.

Bond. Let me think we conquered.

Car. Do; but so think, as we may be conquered; And, where we have found virtue, though in those,

That came to make us slaves, let's cherish it. There's not a blow we gave, since Julius landed, That was of strength and worth, but like records, They file to after-ages. Our registers

The Romans are, for noble deeds of honour; And shall we brand their mentions with upbraidings?

Bond. No more; I see myself. Thou hast made me, cousin,

More than my fortunes durst; for they abused

Had we a difference with some petty isle,
Or with our neighbours, lady, for our landmarks,
The taking in of some rebellious lord,

Or making head against some slight commotions,
After a day of blood, peace might be argued;
But where we grapple for the ground we live on,
The liberty we hold as dear as life,

The gods we worship, and next those, our honours,

Pet. Come, it is drink; I know it is drink.
Jun. 'Tis no drink.

Pet. I say, it is drink; for what affliction
Can light so heavy on a soldier,

To dry him up as thou art, but no drink?
Thou shalt have drink.

Jun. Prithee, Petillius

Pet. And, by mine honour, much drink, valiant drink:

Never tell me, thou shalt have drink. I see,
Like a true friend, into thy wants; 'tis drink;
And, when I leave thee to a desolation,
Especially of that dry nature, hang me.
Jun. Why do you do this to me?
Pet. For I see,

bour;

Those minds, that where the day is, claim inherit

ance,

And where the sun makes ripe the fruits, their harvest,

And where they march, but measure out more ground

To add to Rome, and here i'th' bowels on us;
It must not be. No, as they are our foes,
And those, that must be so, until we tire them,
Let's use the peace of honour, that's fair dealing,
But in our hands our swords. That hardy Roman,
That hopes to graft himself into my stock,
Must first begin his kindred under-ground,
And be allied in ashes.

Bond. Caratach,

As thou hast nobly spoken, shall be done;
And Hengo to thy charge I here deliver:
The Romans shall have worthy wars,
Car, They shall ;

Jun. What do you see?

Pet. I see as fair as day, that thou want'st drink.

Did I not find thee gaping, like an oyster
For a new tide? Thy very thoughts lie bare,
Like a low ebb; thy soul, that rid in sack,
Lies moored for want of liquor. Do but see
Into thyself; for, by the gods, I do;

For all thy body's chapped and cracked like timber,
For want of moisture: What is it thou want'st
there, Junius,
An if it be not drink?

Jun. You have too much on't.

Pet. It may be a whore too. Say it be, come

meecher,

Thou shalt have both; a pretty valiant fellow, Die for a little lap and lechery?

Pet. No, it shall ne'er be said in our country, Thou diedst of the chin-cough. Hear, thou noble Roman,

The son of her that loves a soldier,

Hear what I promised for thee! thus I said:
Lady, I take thy son to my companion;
Lady, I love thy son, thy son loves war,

and rotten--

cipline,

Which is society and lechery;

These two beget commanders: Fear not, lady; Thy son shall lead.

Jun. 'Tis a strange thing, Petillius,

That so ridiculous and loose a mirth
Can master your affections.

Pet. Any mirth,

And any way, of any subject, Junius,
Is better than unmanly mustiness.

What harm is in drink? in a good wholesome wench?

I do beseech you, sir, what error? Yet
It cannot out of my head handsomely,

But thou wouldst fain be drunk: come, no more fooling;

The general has new wine, new come over.
Jun. He must have new acquaintance for it too,

For I will none, I thank ye.

Pet. None, I thank you?

For mine own part, I say, I am starved already,
Not worth another bean, consumed to nothing,
Nothing but flesh and bones left, miserable:
Now, if this musty provender can prick me
To honourable matters of atchievement, gentle-
men,

Why, there's the point.

4 Sold. I'll fight no more. Pet. You'll hang then;

A sovereign help for hunger. Ye eating rascals, Whose gods are beef and brewis! whose brave

angers

Do execution upon these, and chibbals!

Ye dog's heads in the porridge-pot! ye fight no more!

Does Rome depend upon your resolution
For eating mouldy pye-crust?

3 Sold. Would we had it!
Judas. I may do service, captain.
Pet. In a fish-market.

you?"

You do not scorn it, do you?

Jun. Gods defend, sir!

I owe him still more honour.

་

Pet. None, I thank you?'

No company, no drink, no wench, "I thank you?”

You shall be worse entreated, sir.

Jun. Petillius,

As thou art honest, leave me!

Pet. None, I thank you?"

A modest and a decent resolution,

And well put on. Yes; I will leave you, Junius,
And leave you to the boys, that very shortly
Shall all salute you, by your new sirname,
Of Junius None I thank you.' I would starve

now,

Hang, drown, despair, deserve the forks, lie open
To all the dangerous passes of a wench,
Bound to believe her tears, wed her aches,
Ere I would own thy follies. I have found you,
Your lays, and out-leaps, Junius, haunts, and
lodges:

I have viewed you, and I have found you, by my skill,

To be a fool of the first head, Junius,
And I will hunt you: You are in love, I know it;
You are an ass, and all the camp shall know it;
A peevish idle boy, your dame shall know it;
A wronger of my care, yourself shall know it.

Enter JUDAS and four Soldiers.
Judas. A bean? a princely diet, a full banquet,

To what we compass.

1 Sold. Fight like hogs for acorns?
2 Sold. Venture our lives for pig-nuts?
Pet. What ail these rascals?

3 Sold. If this hold, we are starved.
Judas. For my part, friends,

Which is but twenty beans a day (a hard world

Judas. I have not eat to th' purpose-
Pet. To th' purpose!' what is that? half a
cow and garlic?

Ye rogues, my company eat turf, and talk not;
Timber they can digest, and fight upon it;
Old mats, and mud with spoons, rare meats.
Your shoes, slaves;

Dare ye cry out for hunger, and those extant?
Suck your sword-hilts, ye slaves; if ye be valiant,
Honour will make them marchpane. To the
purpose?"