that the secret justice of the gods
                Is mingled with it. Let us leave and kiss,
                Lest some unwelcome guest should fall betwixt us,
                And we should part without it.
                Phi. 'Twill be ill
                I should abide here long.

Are. 'Tis true, and worse
                You should come often: How shall we devise
                To hold intelligence? That our true lovers,
                On any new occasion may agree, what path is best to
                tread?

Phi. I have a boy sent by the gods, I hope to this intent,
                Not yet seen in the Court; hunting the Buck,
                I found him sitting by a Fountain side,
                Of which he borrow'd some to quench his thirst,
                And paid the Nymph again as much in tears;
                A Garland lay him by, made by himself,
                Of many several flowers, bred in the bay,
                Stuck in that mystick order, that the rareness
                Delighted me: but ever when he turned
                His tender eyes upon 'um, he would weep,
                As if he meant to make 'um grow again.
                Seeing such pretty helpless innocence
                Dwell in his face, I ask'd him all his story;
                He told me that his Parents gentle dyed,
                Leaving him to the mercy of the fields,
                Which gave him roots; and of the Crystal springs,
                Which did not stop their courses: and the Sun,
                Which still, he thank'd him, yielded him his light,
                Then took he up his Garland and did shew,
                What every flower as Country people hold,
                Did signifie: and how all ordered thus,
                Exprest his grief: and to my thoughts did read
                The prettiest lecture of his Country Art
                That could be wisht: so that, me thought, I could
                Have studied it. I gladly entertain'd him,
                Who was glad to follow; and have got
                The trustiest, loving'st, and the gentlest boy,
                That ever Master kept: Him will I send
                To wait on you, and bear our hidden love.

[ Enter Lady.

Are. 'Tis well, no more.

La. Madam, the Prince is come to do his service.

Are. What will you do Philaster with your self?

Phi. Why, that which all the gods have appointed out for me.

Are. Dear, hide thy self. Bring in the Prince.

Phi. Hide me from Pharamond! When Thunder speaks, which is the voice of Jove, Though I do reverence, yet I hide me not; And shall a stranger Prince have leave to brag Unto a forreign Nation, that he made Philaster hide himself?

Are. He cannot know it.

Phi. Though it should sleep for ever to the world,
                It is a simple sin to hide my self,
                Which will for ever on my conscience lie.

Are. Then good Philaster, give him scope and way
                In what he saies: for he is apt to speak
                What you are loth to hear: for my sake do.

Phi. I will.

[ Enter Pharamond.

Pha. My Princely Mistress, as true lovers ought,
                I come to kiss these fair hands; and to shew
                In outward Ceremonies, the dear love
                Writ in my heart.

Phi. If I shall have an answer no directlier,
                I am gone.

Pha. To what would he have an answer?

Are. To his claim unto the Kingdom.

Pha. Sirrah, I forbear you before the King.

Phi. Good Sir, do so still, I would not talk with you.

Pha. But now the time is fitter, do but offer To make mention of right to any Kingdom, Though it be scarce habitable.

Phi. Good Sir, let me go.

Pha. And by my sword.

Phi. Peace Pharamond: if thou—

Are. Leave us Philaster.

Phi. I have done.

Pha. You are gone, by heaven I'le fetch you back.

Phi. You shall not need.

Pha. What now?

Phi. Know Pharamond,
                I loath to brawl with such a blast as thou,
                Who art nought but a valiant voice: But if
                Thou shalt provoke me further, men shall say
                Thou wert, and not lament it.
Pha. Do you slight
                My greatness so, and in the Chamber of the Princess!

Phi. It is a place to which I must confess
                I owe a reverence: but wer't the Church,
                I, at the Altar, there's no place so safe,
                Where thou dar'st injure me, but I dare kill thee:
                And for your greatness; know Sir, I can grasp
                You, and your greatness thus, thus into nothing:
                Give not a word, not a word back: Farewell.

[Exit Phi.

Pha. 'Tis an odd fellow Madam, we must stop His mouth with some Office, when we are married.

Are. You were best make him your Controuler.

Pha. I think he would discharge it well. But Madam,
                I hope our hearts are knit; and yet so slow
                The Ceremonies of State are, that 'twill be long
                Before our hands be so: If then you please,
                Being agreed in heart, let us not wait
                For dreaming for me, but take a little stoln
                Delights, and so prevent