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It is my business that doth call thee bence;
And when thou art with her thou dwell'st with me :-)
Think so, and 'tis so; and when time is full,
That thou hast well discharged this heavy trust,
Laid on so weak a one, I will again
With joy receive thee; as I live, I will ;

Nay, weep not, gentle boy; 'tis more than time
Thou didst attend the princess.

Bell. I am gone ;
But since I am to part with you, my lord,
And none knows whether I shall live to do,
More service for you, take this little prayer;
Heaven bless your loves, your fights, all your designs.
May sick men, if they have your wish, be well;
And Heaven hate those you curse, though I be one.

Phi. The love of boys unto their lords is strange :
I have read wonders of it: yet this boy,

my sake (if a man may judge by looks
And speech), would outdo story. I may see
A day to pay him for his loyalty.

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Philaster is jealous of Bellario:

Bell. Health to you, my lord;
The princess doth commend her love, her life,
And this, unto you,

Phi. O, Bellario!
Now I perceive she loves me, she doth show it:
In loving thee, my boy, she has made thee brave.

Bell. My lord, she has attired me past my wish,

my desert, more fit for her attendant,
Though far unfit for me who do attend.
Phi. Thou art grown courtly, boy.

O let all women,
That love black deeds, learn to dissemble here.
Here by this paper she does write to me
As if her heart were mines of adamant
To all the world besides, but unto me
A maiden snow that melted with



Tell me, my boy, how doth the princess use thee?
For I shall guess her love to me by that.

Bell. Scarce like her servant, but as if I were
Something allied to her; or had preserved
Her life three times by my fidelity ;
As mothers fond do use their only sons;
As I'd use one that 's left unto my trust,
For whom

life should pay

if he met harm, So she does use me.

Phi. Why, this is wond'rous well:
But what kind language does she feed thee with ?

Bell. Why, she does tell me she will trust my youth
With all her loving secrets, and does call me
Her pretty servant, bids me weep no more
For leaving you; she 'll see my services
Regarded : and such words of that short strain,
That I am nearer weeping when she ends
Than ere she spake.

Phi. This is much better still.
Bell. Are


lord ? Phi. Ill? No, Bellario.

Bell. Methinks your words
Fall not from off your tongue so evenly,
Nor is there in your looks that quietness,
That I was wont to see.

Phi. Thou art deceived, boy.—And she strokes thy head ?
Bell. Yes.
Phi. And she does clap thy cheeks?
Bell. She does, my

Phi. And she does kiss thee, boy, ha ?
Bell. How, my

lord ?
Phi. She kisses thee?
Bell. Not so, my lord.
Phi. Come, come, I know she does.
Bell. No, by my


* Phi. Fear'st thou not death? Can boys contemn that?


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Bell. O, what boy is he
Can be content to live to be a man,
That sees the best of men thus passionate,
Thus without reason?

Phi. Oh, but thou dost not know what 'tis to die.

Bell. Yes, I do know, my lord,
'Tis less than to be born; a lasting sleep,
A quiet resting from all jealousy;
A thing we all pursue; I know besides
It is but giving over of a game
That must be lost.

Phi. But there are pains, false boy,
For perjured souls; think but on these, and then
Thy heart will melt, and thou wilt utter all.

Bell. May they fall all upon me whilst I live,
If I be perjured, or have ever thought
Of that you charge me with ; if I be false,
Send me to suffer in those punishments
You speak of; kill me.

Phi. O, what should I do?
Why, who can but believe him? He does swear
So earnestly, that if it were not true,
The gods would not endure him. Rise, Bellario,
Thy protestations are so deep, and thou
Dost look—so truly when thou utter'st them,
That though I know them false, as were my hopes,
I cannot urge thee further; but thou wert
To blame to injure me, for I must love
Thy honest looks, and take no revenge upon
Thy tender youth: a love from me to thee
Is firm, whate'er thou dost: it troubles me
That I have call’d the blood out of thy cheeks
That did so well become thee: but, good boy,
Let me not see thee more; something is done
That will distract me, that will make me mad,
If I behold thee; if thou tender'st me,
Let me not see thee.

Bell. I will fly as far

As there is morning, ere I give distaste
To that most honour'd mind. But through these tears,
Shed at my hopeless parting, I can see
A world of treason practised upon you,
And her, and me.

Farewell for evermore;
If you shall hear that sorrow struck me dead
And after find me loyal, let there be
A tear shed from you in my memory,
And I shall rest at peace.


page throws off her disguise, and confesses the motive of her conduct:

My father would oft 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 put it forth, and suck'd it in
Like breath; then was I call'd away in haste
To entertain you. Never was a man
Heav'd 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
you for ever; I did hear


Far above singing; after you were gone,
I grew acquainted with my heart, and search'd
What stirr'd it so. Alas! I found it love,
Yet far from lust, for could I have but lived
presence of you,

I had had


For this I did delude my noble father
With a feign'd pilgrimage, and drest 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,


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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 seemd ; that I might ever
Abide with you: then sate I by the fount
Where first you took me up.

King. Search out a match
Within our kingdom, where and when thou wilt,
And I will pay thy dowry; and thyself
Wilt well deserve him.

Bel. Never, Sir, will I
Marry; it is a thing within my vow:
But if I may have leave to serve the princess,
To see the virtues of her lord and her,
I shall have hope to live.

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ARCHDEACON HARE. [THE following extract is from a remarkable work, "Guesses at Truth, by Two Brothers.' (3rd edit.) Those brothers are Julius and Augustus Hare. Augustus “ has been raised from the earth to the full fruition of that truth of which he had first been the earnest seeker, and then the dutiful servant and herald.” Julius lives to benefit the world by the exercise of his rare talents as a writer, and the discharge of his sacred duties as a pastor.]

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Ridentem dicere verum quid vetat ? * In the first place, all the sour faces in the world, stiffening into a yet more rigid asperity at the least glimpse of a smile. I have seen faces, too, which, so long as you let them lie in their sleepy torpor, unshaken and unstirred, have & creamy softness and smoothness, and might beguile you into suspecting their owners of being gentle: but, if they catch the sound

* What forbids one to say what is true in a laughing manner?

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