| |
Enter A RETHUSA and a Lady 1
ARE. Where’s the boy? | |
| LADY. Within, madam. | |
| ARE. Gave you him gold to buy him clothes? | |
| LADY. I did. | 4 |
| ARE. And has be done’t? | |
| LADY. Yes, madam. | |
| ARE. ’Tis a pretty sad-talking boy, is it not? | |
| Asked you his name? | 8 |
| LADY. No, madam. | |
| |
Enter GALATEA
ARE. Oh, you are welcome. What good news? | |
| GAL. As good as any one can tell your grace, | |
| That says she has done that you would have wish’d. | 12 |
| ARE. Hast thou discovered? | |
| GAL. I have strain’d a point of modesty for you. | |
| ARE. I prithee, how? | |
| GAL. In list’ning after bawdry. I see, let a lady live never so modestly, she shall be sure to find a lawful time to hearken after bawdry. Your prince, brave Pharamond, was so hot on’t! | 16 |
| ARE. With whom? | |
| GAL. Why, with the lady I suspected. I can tell the time and place. | |
| ARE. Oh, when, and where? | |
| GAL. To-night, his lodging. | 20 |
| ARE. Run thyself into the presence; mingle there again | |
| With other ladies; leave the rest to me. [Exit GALATEA.] | |
| If destiny (to whom we dare not say, | |
| “Why didst thou this?”) have not decreed it so, | 24 |
| In lasting leaves (whose smallest characters | |
| Were never alter’d yet), this match shall break.— | |
| Where’s the boy? | |
| LADY. Here, madam. | 28 |
| |
Enter BELLARIO
ARE. Sir, you are sad to change your service; is’t not so? | |
| BEL. Madam, I have not chang’d; I wait on you, | |
| To do him service. | |
| ARE. Thou disclaim’st in me. | 32 |
| Tell me thy name. | |
| BEL. Bellario. | |
| ARE. Thou canst sing and play? | |
| BEL. It grief will give me leave, madam, I can. | 36 |
| ARE. Alas, what kind of grief can thy years know? | |
| Hadst thou a curst master when thou went’st to school? | |
| Thou art not capable of other grief; | |
| Thy brows and cheeks are smooth as waters be | 40 |
| When no breath troubles them. Believe me, boy, | |
| Care seeks out wrinkled brows and hollow eyes, | |
| And builds himself caves, to abide in them. | |
| Come, sir, tell me truly, doth your lord love me? | 44 |
| BEL. Love, madam! I know not what it is. | |
| ARE. Canst thou know grief, and never yet knew’st love? | |
| Thou art deceiv’d, boy. Does he speak of me | |
| As if he wish’d me well? | 48 |
| BEL. If it be love | |
| To forget all respect of his own friends | |
| With thinking of your face; if it be love | |
| To sit cross-arm’d and sigh away the day, | 52 |
| Mingled with starts, crying your name as loud | |
| And hastily as men i’ the streets do fire; | |
| If it be love to weep himself away | |
| When he but hears of any lady dead | 56 |
| Or kill’d, because it might have been your chance; | |
| If, when he goes to rest (which will not be), | |
| ’Twixt every prayer he says, to name you once, | |
| As others drop a bead, be to be in love, | 60 |
| Then, madam, I dare swear he loves you. | |
| ARE. Oh you’re a cunning boy, and taught to lie | |
| For your lord’s credit! But thou know’st a lie | |
| That bears this sound is welcomer to me | 64 |
| Than any truth that says he loves me not. | |
| Lead the way, boy.—[To Lady.] Do you attend me too.— | |
| ’Tis thy lord’s business hastes me thus. Away! Exeunt. | |
