ACT THREE*

Act Three is comprised of three scenes. The first opens with mother and son comic duo, Garrula and Geron: the former sips at her bottle while the latter peppers his speech with classical references and ‘whilom’ as a catchphrase. Geron’s lovesickness for Doris is causing his mother worry, so much so that she has decided to enlist the assistance of Thymele (who employs Doris) with the help of a little blackmail concerning their secret. There follows an exchange with the potential for great comic business between both Geron and Doris: he is both delighted by her presence but uncertain of how to proceed; she is horrified by his appearance and baffled by his words. Thymele and Garrula spectate and offer advice for Doris to be kinder and more forgiving, whilst Geron is encouraged to speak more plainly.
Scene Two sees an increasingly weakening and care-ridden King surrounded by his bickering associates: Disanius and Stratocles exchange verbal battles while Justinius attempts to rein them in. When the King chooses to exit with the latter, the former are given liberty to attack each other with bitter words. Stratocles’ soliloquy enables him poetic expression of his ambition; his interaction with Matho only serves to underline this desire for advancement to the position of king.
Scene Three opens with Thymele and Placilla attempting to cheer Eudina’s spirits by suggesting she observe Doris and Geron’s hapless wooing. Instead, like her father, Eudina is weighed down by the subject of her marriage decision. Thymele’s advice is that Eudina settles for whichever man next comes to visit her. Eudina suggests Placilla sings to help her to sleep, but experiences a vision of Philargus and Philocles embracing before threatening each other with swords. Eudina sees her dream as both ‘ominous’ (terrible) and ‘omenous’ (predicting a future event).
Philargus then enters (apparently sent for by Thymele) and Eudina again expresses her anxiety that although she can only choose one husband, she, Philargus and Philocles should be united in friendship. When Philargus and Placilla are left alone, Brome cleverly uses the arrival of a letter (delivered by Matho, in disguise) to occupy Philargus while Placilla reveals her fraternal love in an aside. The letter is supposedly from Philocles, challenging him to a fight. Placilla mistakes Philargus' anger and hasty exit as his reaction to uncovering her guilty love for him. When Philocles next enters, she tells him of Philargus’ troubled countenance, moments before Matho once again appears in disguise bearing a similar letter. This is the supposed challenge, which Philocles reads aloud, accepting that while one of them will end up dead, the other will have Eudina.

3.1

[Enter] GARRULA [and] GERON.

289GarrulaWould you thus offer, by your own disease†,

To shorten your mother’s days? Or can you pine

And I not grieve? Or cannot grief kill me

Do you think?

290GeronA wise philosopher, whilom†, did affirm

That women who have passed the fire of love

Have hearts which grief can neither pierce, nor* move.

291GarrulaSon, your philosophy fails you, as your love

Blinds you: for Cupid†’s fire, I know, may be

Quenched by old age, but grief’s unquenchable. Sips her bottle*.

My tongue still falters with me (there’s my grief)

And there are not so many fathoms† ’twixt

A woman’s tongue and heart, but grief may find

The bottom, but for care to keep it up

By sending down an antidote before it. Sips again.

292GeronBut whilom† did the love-sick poet prove

No antidote against the power of love.

293GarrulaForbear your whiloms and your old said saws†,

And since you are in love, and by that love

Grown sick with the concealment.

294GeronAs whilom

Th’ Athenian boy who stole a fox* did hide

Under his coat his theft from being descried†

Until it tore his gen’tals – his entrails**,

I should have said.

295GarrulaNo more, I say,

Of your disease, but to the cure, which is

The love of Doris. How ha’ you tried† her, son?

296GeronBy oratory†, epistles†, and by gifts

Which whilom Ovid* said were best of shifts†.

297GarrulaYes, such a gift it might be, and so fastened†.

298GeronBut she, as whilom said Anonimus,

Retorteth† all with scorn injurious†.

299GarrulaYet will you leave your whiloms? And go seek

My lady governess? Say I would speak with her.

300GeronBut whilom said Diogenes* (’tis true)

To one that would†, ‘I will not speak with you’.*

301GarrulaWill you say as I say, and do as you’re* bidden?

[Aside] It is not her great ladyship’s daughter’s handmaid†

Shall scorn my son while I know what I know.*

If you love Doris, run and tell her so.

302GeronFor Doris’ love, as whilom Daedalus*,

I will take wing.

Enter THYMELE.

But see, I am prevented.

303ThymeleOh Garrula! Well found; I was in quest of you.

304GarrulaAnd I was e’en a-sending for you, madam.

305Thymele [Aside] What an imperious† beldam’s† this. But I

Must humour† her. [Aloud] Sending for me, do you say?

For what, good Garrula.

306GarrulaSending for you?* Yes, madam, so I said,

And say’t again. What, what, I know what I know.

You know I do; and that there is no such

Distinction ’twixt the honours of your birth

And place, and mine of age and knowledge, but

You might vouchsafe† the summons when I send.

307Thymele [Aside] What needs this Garrula? [Aloud] I am here you see.

308GarrulaYou know I know, and have deserved some favours;

I do not boast* for what. You know.

309Thymele [Aside] Oh me!

Who trust those secrets whereon honour rests

To custody in mercenary† breasts

Do slave† nobility; and though they pay

A daily ransom, ne’er redeem’t away.

[Aloud to GARRULA] Pray, let us be more private†, though indeed

I love your son for his great care of mine.

310GarrulaOh, do you so? Go forth, son Geron, till

I call. All shall go well I’ll warrant† thee.

311GeronWhilom, so

Said a physician, meaning to restore,

And killed the patient was but† sick before.[He] exit[s].

312ThymeleWhy, Garrula, do you maintain a strife

Still in my grievèd mind ’twixt hope and fear?

Cannot so many years of my known kindness

Win yet a confidence of secrecy.

You are as deeply bound by oath too as myself.

313GarrulaI do confess my oath, and would not break it;

Yet, madam, as you are a woman, you

May know a broken oath is no such burden

As a great secret is; besides the tickling†

A woman has to in and out with’t. Oh,

The tongue itch is intolerable! And were I

A woman of tongue, as most are of my calling

(Though midwives* ha’ been held the best at secret

Counsel-keeping) it had been out, I fear.

314ThymeleBut still take heed, dear Garrula.

315GarrulaYes, madam.

Yet there are kindnesses required on your part.

316ThymeleHave I not still been kind?

317GarrulaMy memory serves me; and but that my tongue

Now falters with me – I could recount Sips.

All the rewards I have had from time to time,

Since you translated† me from a country housewife

Into the midwife royal; what in gowns,

In gold, in jewels, chains and rings; and (which

I prize ’bove all) my syrups and my sippings. Sips.

318ThymeleYour place of honour in the court –

319GarrulaWhat, what?

I hope I had that before i’ the King’s favour,

As his Queen’s midwife. She is in Elysium†. Sips.

320ThymeleThen, Garrula, your learned son’s preferment,

Tutor and governor to my sons.

321GarrulaThereby

Hangs a tale*, madam. Now I come to th’ point:

My son affects† your daughter’s handmaid*, Doris,

Who slights† his love. I must now by your power

Obtain her for my son.

322ThymeleBe confident,

Though I confess I hold her worthless† of him.

323GarrulaI tell him so: but love has blinded him.

Ho Geron, I say! Geron, come and hear.

Enter GERON.

324GeronSo whilom prisoners have been called to come

From dungeon deep to hear a blacker doom*.

325ThymeleGeron, be comforted. By all my power,

Doris shall be your own.

326GeronThen whilom, as

Ovid by his Corinna* sweet, said oh* –

Enter DORIS.

[Aside] She comes, she comes. My joys do overflow.

327ThymeleNow, Doris, what portends† your haste? Speak, maid,

Is it to Geron, or to me, your business?

328Doris [Aside] His ill looks* had almost made me miscarry’t.†

[Aloud] Madam, the princess instantly desires

Your company.

329ThymeleBut by her grace’s favour,*

And your leave, Doris, I will trench† so far

On both your patiences, and for your good,

As to be witness of an interchange

Of some few words ’twixt Geron and yourself.

[DORIS looks away from GERON.]

Why look you from him so? He loves you, Doris.

330DorisThat’s more than I e’er knew or read, by all

He speaks or writes to me. He clothes his words

In furs and hoods, so that I cannot find

The naked meaning of his business, madam.

331ThymeleSpeak plainly to her, Geron.

332GarrulaTo her, son.

333GeronMy business is the same that whilom drew

Demosthenes* to Corinth: some repentance,

So I pay not too dear.

334DorisLo’ you there, madam.

335GarrulaYou must speak plainer, son.

336ThymeleAnd be you kinder, Doris.

337DorisBut not so kind, good madam, as to grant

I know not what.

338GeronOh, forfeit† not the praise

That whilom Aristotle* gave your sex,

To be enriched with piety and pity.

339DorisI know not what to pity, but your want†

Of utterance. It is* some horrid thing

That you desire, and are ashamed to speak it?

340GeronNo, gentle Doris, nothing but the thing

Whereby great Alexander* whilom said

He knew himself a mortal, and no god,

Coition

† –

341DorisBe it what it will, I cannot

Give what I understand not. You’re* too aloof.

342GarrulaThere’s comfort, son. And I’ll give thee instructions

To come more close to her.

343Thymele [To GARRULA] I’ll ease your care,

And be myself his agent†. He’s too learned.

Geron, you speak too learnedly, as if

You wooed a muse. And Doris understands not,

But by your posture*, what you’d have. I’ll put

Your meaning into woman’s words, and such

As shall be sure to speed†. But first I’ll wait†

Upon the princess. Garrula, will you go?

344GarrulaAnd thank you for my son*. But still – I know.*

345ThymeleNay, I will do’t. Geron, be confident.

346GeronI thank your ladyship as much as they

Who whilom – whilom –

347DorisKnew not what to say.*

348GarrulaHe’s overjoyed.

349ThymeleGo, Geron, lead the way.[They all exit.]*

3.2

[Enter] KING, STRATOCLES, DISANIUS [and] JUSTINIUS.

350KingPray, trouble me no further. I have said

That if in five days’ space she make not choice

Of one of those whom (I must tell you, Stratocles)*

She loves, and I prefer† before you, then

I’ll weigh† your suit† and reasons; and till then

I say’t again, you are a trouble to me.

351StratoclesA trouble, sir? That were a time that knew me

A trouble to your enemies, not you,

When this same lump of earth* (which now’s a trouble)

Stood a sole bulwark† of your realm, repelling

Arms† of foes, shrouding† your fearful subjects

Under my shield, guarding your fields and vineyards

From desolation†, your palaces from ruin;

And am I now a trouble?

352DisaniusStratocles,

You lose the glory of your deeds by blazing†

Your own renown. He that commends himself,

Speaks upon trust, and is his hearer’s slave.*

353StratoclesPeace, Envy*, and be thankful for thy life

Which thy tongue forfeits.

354JustiniusLet my mildness tell you,

You are irreverent before the King,

Who has not been forgetful of your worth,

Nor slow in your reward. Then moderate

Your heat with counsel, and be first assistant

Unto the public good. So shall you merit

The first regard in honours and affairs

Of private nature.

355Stratocles *So.

356KingThis oracle

Troubles me not a little. I had thought

Thereby to have declined† this weighty care

From my declining† shoulders, and have given

My country satisfaction†, and myself,

In choosing of a son and successor.

But I am prisoner in the labyrinth*

Of the gods’ verdict.

357JustiniusTheir sublimity†

In matters of the future seldom stoops

To human* apprehension; yet vouchsafes†

To answer our demands, but chides withal

Our too much incense* with obscurity.

Your grace, however, may presume, where they

Shall deign to spend a word, and take an offering,*

It is a certain augury† of good.

358KingThou hast allayed† my fear. Justinius’* come,

Lend* me thy brain’s assistance. For in thee

I find a temper† that accords with me.Exit KING [and] JUSTINIUS.

359DisaniusSoldier*, I dare yet tell thee thou art rash,

Foolish as valiant, and as easily may’st,

For all thy loftiness, be undermined

As the base bramble. Boasting weakness, thee

And promising ambition leads thee up,

An earthly exhalation* into th’air;

Where with a little borrowed light, one moment,

Thou shin’st the mark† and wonder of all eyes;

But soon consumed and darted to the centre*,

Becom’st the scorn of men and sport of children.

360StratoclesYou are o’th’* sect of Cynics*, and have learned

To bark philosophy*.

361DisaniusThen shall you hear

Your now adoring* multitude upbraid†

Your insolence and pride, and gain the name

Of prophets by your downfall, while one swears

He had foretold it long; another dreamt it;

All jointly cry: “We never could endure him;

See what a look he has; what brawny† lips;

What poisonous eyes; and what an impudent front†!”

362StratoclesYou will out-run your privilege of prating†

And suffer for’t.

363DisaniusI am too prodigal†

Of seed upon so flinty soil* as thou.

Be as thou art, and perish.[He] exit[s].

364StratoclesIgnorant wretch,

That out of all thy bookish theory

Knows not the soul to be aerial†

And of a soaring nature; not unlike

The noble falcon* that will never cease

To work ’bove all that tops her. The supreme

Estate on earth, and next unto the gods,

Is majesty; and that’s my present† gain†,

Though I have all but that, yet wanting† that

All is as none to me. And since my way

Must be upon the ruins (sour** Disanius)

Of thee, and of thy glories in thy nephews,

The King’s dear darlings, for whose precious sakes

I must attend† five days (yet be a trouble*)

I’ll travel* through your bloods. Thyself has gi’n me

The quicker motion by thy timely envy.

Thou hast set spurs to the pale horse of death*,

That into dust shall trample all those lets†

Which stand ’twixt me and the Thessalian crown,

Upon whose back I’ll set this rider.

Enter MATHO.

365MathoMy sovereign lord.

366StratoclesI like that compellation†:*

Thou styl’st* me as thou wishest me, on whom

Depends thy consequent advancement, Matho.

But we but† dream of sovereignty and sleep

To the achievement: something must be done

With wakeful eyes and ready hands*, my Matho.

367MathoNow my king speaks himself.* Let but your eye

Find out the way these ready hands shall act

The strength of your designs. I can perceive

That now the labour of your Jove-like brain*

Is bringing forth the Pallas* shall inspire

Me to perform the work of my advancement.

368Stratocles’Tis not yet ripe for the delivery,

But thou shalt quickly have it. Follow me.[They] exit.

3.3

[Enter] EUDINA, THYMELE [and] PLACILLA.

369EudinaGood madam, let me be excused. The mirth

You offered to allay† or quench my sorrows

Might have been well received at former times,

But now it is unseasonable.

370ThymeleYet think on’t, madam,

How gravely Geron goes, and with what scorn

The wanton† girl† recoils.

371EudinaGood, speak no more on’t.

372ThymeleThen beldam† Garrula’s reasons urging Doris,

Showing how either of his* pupils’ grace

In your electing Philocles or Philargus,

Though to them doubtful, is a sure advancement

To her by Geron.

373EudinaStill you move† like those

That do in merry tales mis-spend their breath

To those that are that day marked out for death.

374ThymeleYou may not say so, madam; ’tis in you*

By taking one, to give new life to two:

Yourself, and if you’ll give me leave to name

The other, be it Philargus; or if chance

Shall favour better, Philocles; or him,

Let it be him that gives you the first visit.

375EudinaThat were to fancy in ourselves an oracle,

Or to give fortune power to execute

The judgement of the Delphian god*.

376ThymeleWho knows

But that his oracle would have it so.

377Placilla Aside

Was it for that you now sent for Philargus.

378ThymeleSay, shall it be so, madam; or suppose so?

379EudinaThis pleases better yet than Geron’s wooing.

Pray thee, Placilla, sing. And may thy voice

Attract him that may prove the happier choice.

380PlacillaI’ll try my best in notes, and what they want†

I’ll strive to make effectual in my wishes.

381EudinaThanks, kind Placilla. But the leaden weights

Of sleep oppress mine eyelids, and I shall not hear thee.

382ThymeleYet sit, and let her sing: you’ll sleep the better.

PLACILLA sings. After a strain or two, EUDINA sleeps, and enters, as a vision† at the several† doors, PHILARGUS and PHILOCLES. They meet and embrace affectionately;* then whisper a while; then suddenly start off†, and draw their swords; menace*† each other, and severally† depart. The song ended, EUDINA affrightedly starts* up.*

383EudinaStay, Philocles; stay, Philargus.* Let not fury

Lead you to end that difference with your swords

Which only fits my life to satisfy.

384ThymeleWhat means your grace?

385EudinaPursue ’em, with prevention,

Before they meet again, or one or both

Must perish. Did you not observe their challenge,

And eithers’ daring other to the field?

386ThymeleWho, madam? Where? And when?

387EudinaNow; here; your sons.

How can you ask?

388ThymeleBecause we were awake

And saw nothing.

389PlacillaCollect your spirits, madam; you slept.

390EudinaIt was an ominous† dream then.

391ThymeleAnd of good,

I dare divine it, madam.

Enter PHILARGUS.

And now see

Whom fortune first hath sent to be your choice.

Philargus, you have won the glorious prize.

392PhilargusBut does the glory of the world*, Eudina, grant it?

393EudinaMy affrightment shakes me still.

Oh my Philargus, I am now inspired

Sure by a vision from the gods with knowledge

That, in my choice of you or Philocles,

I shall become the ruin of you both.

394Philargus’Tis not in fate to wound our common friendship.

395Eudina’Tis better in myself to kill the danger.

396PhilargusThe gods avert† such purposes. If you

Deprive the world of your fair self, then we

Both fall by necessary consequence.

But what are we? This Thessaly must suffer.*

The King must yield, to see a new and strange

Succession appointed to his crown,

And by his subjects, not himself.

397Eudina’Tis that

Deters me: yet let me prevail, Philargus,

(To quit me of my fears) that ere† I pass

My faith unto a husband, you* and Philocles,

Before the gods, your mother and myself,

Once more, do celebrate your vow of friendship.

And let me be excused in this: for I

Must tell you, dear Philargus, that though now

My love be fixed on one of you (albeit

I name not which) I will not take him with

Least scruple† of a fear of losing him

Again by th’other’s spite*; nor leave that other

Less loved by me, than now he is, forever;

And though but one can be possessed of me

One friendship, yet, must marry us all three.

398PhilargusThe gods have spoke it in you; it is their

Divine injunction†. Madam, I obey it,

And dare engage† as much for Philocles.

399ThymeleThis is most fair: now, till you meet, ’tis fit

You fall on lighter purposes* for your health.

Son, here was mirth today, although the princess

Relished it not.

400PhilargusI heard of Geron’s love

To his fair Doris. We are now become

His tutors*, madam, to be amorous.

401ThymelePlacilla, come you hither†. I observe

A change in you of late, and do suspect

The reason. What! Do you blush at my suspicion?

Nay, then you mak’t my knowledge. You are in love.

I’ll yet come nearer† you. I guess with whom:

And at fit† time I’ll school† you for’t.

402EudinaCome, madam;

Now if you please we’ll take some air. Philargus

Craves leave to seek his brother.

403PhilargusYes, madam.

404ThymeleI wait o’† your grace†. Nay, do not look displeased:

I tell you, girl, there is danger in it.Exit EUDINA [and] THYMELE.

405PhilargusStay, Placilla.

What! Has my mother chid† you? I’ll not question

Her reason, nor your fault; but pray thee, sister,

If Philocles approach to see the princess

Ere my return, tell him I stay at’s† lodging,

First, to confer with him.

406PlacillaI will, my brother.

407PhilargusIn† troth* thou weep’st. Therefore, to comfort you,

Because I know by some infallible signs

You are more tender of his love than mine.

He stands in equal competition yet

With me for fair Eudina. And if fortune

Allots her me, I’ll be as kind a brother

And still the same to you as Philocles.

I pray thee, dry thine eyes.

Enter MATHO disguised with a letter.

408Matho [Aside] If a disguised face and a counterfeit† hand

Ever prevailed, may these in this plot speed†.

[Aloud] My lord, I had this in charge† to render† to you.

[MATHO hands over the letter and] PHILARGUS reads.

Exit MATHO.

409Placilla [Aside] I am discovered in my lawless* love.

Remember, Cupid, whom thou makest thy anvil:*

A poor weak virgin. If thou art a god,

Be just and reasonable. It savours not

Of justice to provoke incestuous flames,

Nor reason to enforce an ardency†

Of things impossible. Let me not burn

With neighbouring fire, which, to enjoy, I must

Therefore despair because it is so near.*

410PhilargusHa! Where’s this fellow? Is he gone?

411PlacillaYes, brother.

412Philargus’Tis Philocles, his hand! An eager challenge!

A challenge, and to me, his friend and brother.

Now Oracle, where’s your riddle? Answer me,

Apollo’s fiddlestick†. O ye Delphian priests,

You hang religion up, like painted cloths**

Before unseemly walls, to cloak their filth

And palliate† their wicked mysteries.

413PlacillaHow do you, brother?

414PhilargusSick in Philocles.

You’ll hear more of his kindness to you shortly.[He] exit[s].

415PlacillaHe suspects too, with much displeasure, my

Unreasonable love to Philocles.

But why should we be reason’s followers

With loss of liberty? Which of the creatures†

Allays† his heat† toward any of his kind,

’Cause the same belly† gave them being? They

Observe no difference of sire† or dam†,

Brother or sister, being mature for love*.

Ah, whither† am I going? Bestial thoughts*,

Forth† of my bosom. Leave me not, my soul,

Or my soul’s better part, my reason. Oh —

Enter PHILOCLES.

It was returning, but a flaming shaft

Of love has set its mansion afire

And frights it back again.*

416PhiloclesPlacilla. Sister.

417Placilla [Aside] That name of ‘sister’, like a violent cold

Upon an extreme heat, fevers my blood

To death.

418PhiloclesMethinks you are sad and troubled, sister.

Why thus alone? Or have you entertained

That troublesome companion, love? Come tell me,

I can advise you very learnedly:

For Cupid’s scholars are more exquisite†

In giving counsel than in using it.

419Placilla [Aside] How shall I answer him I dare not look on?*

420PhiloclesWhy are you sad?

421PlacillaOut of conformity

Unto the present garb†: I have assumed

Only a veil of sadness.

422PhiloclesThou art only happy,

Whose sorrow is but outward, as a stranger

Called to be present at a funeral

Clads himself like the rest, is serious

And silent with a countenance dejected

And testudineous† pace, but has not tears,

Nor groanings for a loss to him unknown;

The obsequies† performed, unclothes himself

Of grief and weeds† together. But, my sister,

You are not pleased to talk upon this subject.

Where is the princess?

423Placilla [Aside] He has given me now a colour for my sadness.

[Aloud] The princess is retired. She has been troubled

With a most fearful dream of a duello†

Betwixt you and Philargus to be fought.

424PhiloclesWith friendly courtesies?

425PlacillaNay, with swords, she said.

426PhiloclesHa, ha, ha.

427PlacillaPhilargus hath been with her, and to him

She told her fears, enjoining† him that both

Of you should come, and jointly before her

Declare your constant friendship.

428PhiloclesThat’s soon done.

429PlacillaBut trust me, sir, I fear Philargus took not

All as she meant it; for at his departing,

He looked displeasedly; and, when I demanded

His health’s condition, he said he was sick

In Philocles.

430PhiloclesIn Philocles’s* absence,

As I am in his. That was his meaning, sister.

431PlacillaPardon my fear; which is, that he’s not friends wi’ ye.

432PhiloclesAway, your fear has made you idle.

433PlacillaNo.

[Aside] It is my love, in that black horror clad,

Which will, before it leaves me, make me mad.[She] exit[s].

434PhiloclesI’ll seek him out.

Enter MATHO disguised, [with] a letter.

435MathoMy lord, I was commanded

To convey these into your lordship’s hands.

436PhiloclesBy whom were you employed?

437MathoMy lord, ’twas not

The man that moved† me (for I know him not)

But the reward.* I humbly take my leave.[He] exit[s].

438PhiloclesMy brother write? Ha! Are we at such distance?

Thou art no prophetess, Placilla, art thou?

He reads.

Brother Philocles, we are the laughing stock of the nation, and injurious† both to the King, our country, the divine Eudina, and ourselves, by our childish love. The time is short: meet me, (I conjure† you by our friendship) within three hours, in the north vale of Tempe*; where it shall be the gods’ election to take one of us, and leave the other for Eudina. Expostulate† not with yourself, much less with me otherwise than by weapon, or never expect to see — your brother, Philargus.

O gods and men! Where shall we go to find

Friendship and truth? Be’t so. For in th’event,

We may be happy both. But with this odds:

One with Eudina, tother† with the gods.[They] exit.

Edited by Eleanor Lowe