March 10· The Harvard Classics, fifteen minutes a day
Beaumont—The Adonis of Elizabethan Playwrights
Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Philaster · about 15 minutes
In the days when contact with the theatre meant exile from the best society, Beaumont and Fletcher, men from good families, dared to ally themselves with the stage as playwrights. “Philaster” won them immortal praise.
From the 1930 Reading Guide
Philaster
Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher
The reading starts at the title “PHILASTER” on page 667.
667PHILASTER
[DRAMATIS PERSONAE
KING OF SICILY.PHILASTER, Heir to the Crown of Sicily.PHARAMOND, Prince of Spain.DION, a Lord.CLEREMONT, Noble Gentlemen,THRASILINE, his associates.An Old Captain.Five Citizens.A Country Fellow.Two Woodmen.The King’s Guard and Train.ARETHUSA, Daughter of the King.EUPHRASIA, Daughter of DION, but disguised like a Page and called BELLARIO.MEGRA, a lascivious Lady.GALATEA, a wise modest Lady attending the Princess.Two other Ladies.
SCENE.—MESSINA AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD]
ACT THE FIRST
SCENE I. [The presence chamber in the palace]
Enter DION, CLEREMONT, and THRASILINE
Cleremont
HERE’S nor lords nor ladies.
Dion. Credit me, gentlemen, I wonder at it. They receiv’d strict charge from the King to attend here; besides, it was boldly published that no officer should forbid any gentleman that desired to attend and hear.
Cle. Can you guess the cause?
Dion. Sir, it is plain, about the Spanish Prince, that’s come to marry our kingdom’s heir and be our sovereign.
Thra. Many that will seem to know much say she looks not on him like a maid in love.
Dion. Faith, sir, the multitude, that seldom know any thing but their own opinions, speak that they would have; but the prince, before his own approach, receiv’d so many confident messages from the state, that I think she’s resolv’d to be rul’d.
Cle. Sir, it is thought, with her he shall enjoy both these kingdoms of Sicily and Calabria.
668Dion. Sir, it is without controversy so meant. But ’twill be a troublesome labour for him to enjoy both these kingdoms with safety, the right heir to one of them living, and living so virtuously; especially, the people admiring the bravery of his mind and lamenting his injuries.
Cle. Who, Philaster?
Dion. Yes; whose father, we all know, was by our late King of Calabria unrighteously deposed from his fruitful Sicily. Myself drew some blood in those wars, which I would give my hand to be washed from.
Cle. Sir, my ignorance in state-policy will not let me know why, Philaster being heir to one of these kingdoms, the King should suffer him to walk abroad with such free liberty.
Dion. Sir, it seems your nature is more constant than to inquire after state-news. But the King, of late, made a hazard of both the kingdoms, of Sicily and his own, with offering but to imprison Philaster; at which the city was in arms, not to be charmed down by any state-order or proclamation, till they saw Philaster ride through the streets pleased and without a guard; at which they threw their hats and their arms from them; some to make bonfires, some to drink, all for his deliverance: which wise men say is the cause the King labours to bring in the power of a foreign nation to awe his own with.
Enter GALATEA, a Lady and MEGRA
Thra. See, the ladies! What’s the first?
Dion. A wise and modest gentlewoman that attends the princess.
Cle. The second?
Dion. She is one that may stand still discreetly enough, and ill-favour’dly dance her measure; simper when she is courted by her friend, and slight her husband.
Cle. The last?
Dion. Faith, I think she is one whom the state keeps for the agents of our confederate princes; she’ll cog1 and lie with a whole army, before the league shall break. Her name is common through the kingdom, and the trophies of her dishonour advanced beyond Hercules’ Pillars. She loves to try the several constitutions of men’s bodies; and, indeed, has destroyed the worth of her own body by making experiment upon it for the good of the commonwealth.
669Cle. She’s a profitable member.
Meg. Peace, if you love me! You shall see these gentlemen stand their ground and not court us.
Gal. What if they should?
La. What if they should!
Meg. Nay, let her alone.—What if they should! Why, if they should, I say they were never abroad. What foreigner would do so? It writes them directly untravell’d.
Gal. Why, what if they be?
La. What if they be!
Meg. Good madam, let her go on.—What if they be! Why, if they be, I will justify, they cannot maintain discourse with a judicious lady, nor make a leg2 nor say “Excuse me.”
Gal. Ha, ha, ha!
Meg. Do you laugh, madam?
Dion. Your desires upon you, ladies!
Meg. Then you must sit beside us.
Dion. I shall sit near you then, lady.
Meg. Near me, perhaps; but there’s a lady endures no stranger; and to me you appear a very strange fellow.
La. Methinks he’s not so strange; he would quickly be acquainted.
Thra. Peace, the King!
Enter KING, PHARAMOND, ARETHUSA, and Train
King. To give a stronger testimony of loveThan sickly promises (which commonlyIn princes find both birth and burialIn one breath) we have drawn you, worthy sir,To make your fair endearments to our daughter,And worthy services known to our subjects,Now lov’d and wondered at; next, our intentTo plant you deeply our immediate heirBoth to our blood and kingdoms. For this lady,(The best part of your life, as you confirm me,And I believe,) though her few years and sexYet teach her nothing but her fears and blushes,Desires without desire, discourse and knowledgeOnly of what herself is to herself,Make her feel moderate health; and when she sleeps,In making no ill day, knows no ill dreams.Think not, dear sir, these undivided parts,That must mould up a virgin, are put onTo show her so, as borrowed ornamentsTo speak her perfect love to you, or addAn artificial shadow to her nature,—No, sir; I boldly dare proclaim her yetNo woman. But woo her still, and think her modestyA sweeter mistress than the offer’d languageOf any dame, were she a queen, whose eyeSpeaks common loves and comforts to her servants.3Last, noble son (for so I now must call you),What I have done thus public, is not onlyTo add a comfort in particularTo you or me, but all; and to confirmThe nobles and the gentry of these kingdomsBy oath to your succession, which shall beWithin this month at most.Thra. This will be hardly done.Cle. It must be ill done, if it be done.Dion. When ’tis at best, ’twill be but half done, whilstSo brave a gentleman is wrong’d and flung off.Thra. I fear.Cle. Who does not?Dion. I fear not for myself, and yet I fear too.Well, we shall see, we shall see. No more.Pha. Kissing your white hand, mistress, I take leaveTo thank your royal father; and thus farTo be my own free trumpet. Understand,Great King, and these your subjects, mine that must be,(For so deserving you have spoke me, sir.And so deserving I dare speak myself,)To what a person, of what eminence,Ripe expectation, of what faculties,Manners and virtues, you would wed your kingdoms;You in me have your wishes. Oh, this country!By more than all the gods, I hold it happy;Happy in their dear memories that have beenKings great and good; happy in yours that is;And from you (as a chronicle to keepYour noble name from eating age) do IOpine myself most happy. Gentlemen,Believe me in a word, a prince’s word,There shall be nothing to make up a kingdomMighty and flourishing, defenced, fear’d,Equal to be commanded and obeyed,But through the travails of my life I’ll find it,And tie it to this country. By all the gods,My reign shall be so easy to the subject,That every man shall be his prince himself,And his own law—yet I his prince and law.And, dearest lady, to your dearest self(Dear in the choice of him whose name and lustreMust make you more and mightier) let me say,You are the blessed’st living; for, sweet princess,You shall enjoy a man of men to beYour servant; you shall make him yours, for whomGreat queens must die.Thra. Miraculous!
671Cle. This speech calls him Spaniard, being nothing but a large inventory of his own commendations.
Dion. I wonder what’s his price; for certainlyHe’ll sell himself, he has so prais’d his shape.
Enter PHILASTER
But here comes one more worthy those large speeches,Than the large speaker of them.Let me be swallowed quick, if I can find,In all the anatomy of yon man’s virtues,One sinew sound enough to promise for him,He shall be constable. By this sun,He’ll ne’er make king unless it be for trifles,In my poor judgment.Phi. [kneeling.] Right noble sir, as low as my obedience,And with a heart as loyal as my knee,I beg your favour.King. Rise; you have it, sir. [PHILASTER rises.]Dion. Mark but the King, how pale he looks! He fears!Oh, this same whorson conscience, how it jades us!King. Speak your intents, sir.Phi. Shall I speak ’em freely?Be still my royal sovereign.King. As a subject,We give you freedom.Dion. Now it heats.Phi. Then thus I turnMy language to you, prince; you, foreign man!Ne’er stare nor put on wonder, for you mustEndure me, and you shall. This earth you tread upon(A dowry, as you hope, with this fair princess),By my dead father (oh, I had a father,Whose memory I bow to!) was not leftTo your inheritance, and I up and living—Having myself about me and my sword,The souls of all my name and memories,These arms and some few friends beside the gods—To part so calmly with it, and sit stillAnd say, “I might have been.” I tell thee, Pharamond,When thou art king, look I be dead and rotten,And my name ashes: for, hear me, Pharamond!This very ground thou goest on, this fat earth,My father’s friends made fertile with their faiths,Before that day of shame shall gape and swallowThee and thy nation, like a hungry grave,Into her hidden bowels. Prince, it shall;By the just gods, it shall!Pha. He’s mad; beyond cure, mad.Dion. Here is a fellow has some fire in’s veins:The outlandish prince looks like a tooth-drawer.Phi. Sir prince of popinjays,4 I’ll make it wellAppear to you I am not mad.King. You displease us:You are too bold.Phi. No, sir, I am too tame,Too much a turtle, a thing born without passion,A faint shadow, that every drunken cloudSails over, and makes nothing.King. I do not fancy this.Call our physicians; sure, he’s somewhat tainted.5Thra. I do not think ’twill prove so.Dion. H’as given him a general purge already,For all the right he has; and now he meansTo let him blood. Be constant, gentlemen:By heaven, I’ll run his hazard,Although I run my name out of the kingdom!Cle. Peace, we are all one soul.Pha. What you have seen in me to stir offenceI cannot find, unless it be this lady,Offer’d into mine arms with the succession;Which I must keep, (though it hath pleas’d your furyTo mutiny within you,) without disputingYour genealogies, or taking knowledgeWhose branch you are. The King will leave it me,And I dare make it mine. You have your answer.Phi. If thou wert sole inheritor to himThat made the world his,6 and couldst see no sunShine upon any thing but thine; were PharamondAs truly valiant as I feel him cold,And ring’d among the choicest of his friends(Such as would blush to talk such serious follies,Or back such bellied commendations),And from this presence, spite of all these bugs,7You should hear further from me.King. Sir, you wrong the prince; I gave you not this freedomTo brave our best friends. You deserve our frown.Go to; be better temper’d.Phi. It must be, sir, when I am nobler us’d.Gal. Ladies,This would have been a pattern of succession,Had he ne’er met this mischief. By my life,He is the worthiest the true name of manThis day within my knowledge.Meg. I cannot tell what you may call your knowledge;But the other is the man set in mine eye.Oh, ’tis a prince of wax!8Gal. A dog it is.9King. Philaster, tell meThe injuries you aim at in your riddles.Phi. If you had my eyes, sir, and sufferance,My griefs upon you, and my broken fortunes,My wants great, and now nought but hopes and fears,My wrongs would make ill riddles to be laugh’d at.Dare you be still my king, and right me not?King. Give me your wrongs in private.Phi. Take them,And ease me of a load would bow strong Atlas. They whisper.Cle. He dares not stand the shock.Dion. I cannot blame him; there’s danger in’t.
674Every man in this age has not a soul of crystal, for all men to read their actions through: men’s hearts and faces are so far asunder, that they hold no intelligence. Do but view yon stranger well, and you shall see a fever through all his bravery, and feel him shake like a true tenant.10 If he give not back his crown again upon the report of an elder-gun, I have no augury.
675King. Go to;Be more yourself, as you respect our favour;You’ll stir us else. Sir, I must have you know,That you are, and shall be, at our pleasure, whatFashion we will put upon you. Smooth your brow,Or by the gods——Phi. I am dead, sir; you’re my fate. It was not ISaid, I was wrong’d; I carry all about meMy weak stars lead me to, all my weak fortunes.Who dares in all this presence speak, (that isBut man of flesh, and may be mortal,) tell meI do not most entirely love this prince,And honour his full virtues!King. Sure, he’s possess’d.Phi. Yes, with my father’s spirit. It’s here, O King,A dangerous spirit! Now he tells me, King,I was a king’s heir, bids me be a king,And whispers to me, these are all my subjects.’Tis strange he will not let me sleep, but divesInto my fancy, and there gives me shapesThat kneel and do me service, cry me king:But I’ll suppress him; he’s a factious spirit,And will undo me.—[To PHAR.] Noble sir, your hand;I am your servant.King. Away! I do not like this:I’ll make you tamer, or I’ll dispossess youBoth of your life and spirit. For this timeI pardon your wild speech, without so muchAs your imprisonment.
Dion. I thank you, sir; you dare not for the people.Gal. Ladies, what think you now of this brave fellow?
Meg. A pretty talking fellow, hot at hand. But eye yon stranger: is he not a fine complete gentleman? Oh, these strangers, I do affect them strangely! They do the rarest home-things, and please the fullest! As I live, I could love all the nation over and over for his sake.
676Gal. Gods comfort your poor head-piece, lady! ’Tis a weak one and had need of a night-cap.
Exeunt Ladies.
Dion. See, how his fancy labours! Has he notSpoke home and bravely? What a dangerous trainDid he give fire to! How he shook the King,Made his soul melt within him, and his bloodRun into whey! It stood upon his browLike a cold winter-dew.Phi. Gentlemen,You have no suit to me? I am no minion.You stand, methinks, like men that would be courtiers,If I11 could well be flatter’d at a priceNot to undo your children. You’re all honest:Go, get you home again, and make your countryA virtuous court, to which your great ones may,In their diseased age, retire and live recluse.Cle. How do you, worthy sir?Phi. Well, very well;And so well that, if the King please, I findI may live many years.Dion. The King must please,Whilst we know what you are and who you are,Your wrongs and virtues.12 Shrink not, worthy sir,But add your father to you; in whose nameWe’ll waken all the gods, and conjure upThe rods of vengeance, the abused people,Who, like to raging torrents, shall swell high,And so begirt the dens of these male-dragons,That, through the strongest safety, they shall begFor mercy at your sword’s point.Phi. Friends, no more;Our ears may be corrupted; ’tis an ageWe dare not trust our wills to. Do you love me?Thra. Do we love Heaven and honour?Phi. My Lord Dion, you hadA virtuous gentlewoman call’d you father;Is she yet alive?Dion. Most honour’d sir, she is;And, for the penance but of an idle dream,Has undertook a tedious pilgrimage.
677Enter a Lady
Phi. Is it to me, or any of these gentlemen, you come?Lady. To you, brave lord; the princess would entreatYour present company.Phi. The princess send for me! You are mistaken.Lady. If you be called Philaster, ’tis to you.Phi. Kiss her fair hand, and say I will attend her. [Exit Lady.]Dion. Do you know what you do?Phi. Yes; go to see a woman.Cle. But do you weigh the danger you are in?Phi. Danger in a sweet face!By Jupiter, I must not fear a woman!Thra. But are you sure it was the princess sent?It may be some foul train13 to catch your life.Phi. I do not think it, gentlemen; she’s noble.Her eye may shoot me dead, or those true redAnd white friends in her cheeks may steal my soul out;There’s all the danger in’t. But, be what may,Her single name hath armed me. Exit.Dion. Go on,And be as truly happy as thou’rt fearless!—Come, gentlemen, let’s make our friends acquainted,Lest the King prove false. Exeunt.
The reading stops at the end of Act I, Scene I, on page 677; the opening of Scene II at the foot of the page is left with the rest of that scene.
This is the reading for March 10 in Fifteen Minutes a Day: The Reading Guide (1930 edition), page 37. There the assignment reads “Vol. 47, pp. 667–677.” Read it in the guide.