_Are_. By your pardon why do you ask? _King_. Put him away. _Are_. Sir? _King_. Put him away, h'as done you that good service, Shames me to speak of. _Are_. Good Sir let me understand you. _King_. If you fear me, shew it in duty; put away that boy. _Are_. Let me have reason for it Sir, and then Your will is my command. _King_. Do not you blush to ask it? Cast him off, Or I shall do the same to you. Y'are one Shame with me, and so near unto my self, That by my life, I dare not tell my self, What you, my self have done. _Are_. What have I done my Lord? _King_. 'Tis a new language, that all love to learn, The common people speak it well already, They need no Grammer; understand me well, There be foul whispers stirring; cast him off! And suddenly do it: Farewel. [_Exit_ King. _Are_. Where may a Maiden live securely free, Keeping her Honour safe? Not with the living, They feed upon opinions, errours, dreams, And make 'em truths: they draw a nourishment Out of defamings, grow upon disgraces, And when they see a vertue fortified Strongly above the battery of their tongues; Oh, how they cast to sink it; and defeated (Soul sick with Poyson) strike the Monuments Where noble names lie sleeping: till they sweat, And the cold Marble melt. _Enter_ Philaster. _Phi_. Peace to your fairest thoughts, dearest Mistress. _Are_. Oh, my dearest servant I have a War within me. _Phi_. He must be more than man, that makes these Crystals Run into Rivers; sweetest fair, the cause; And as I am your slave, tied to your goodness, Your creature made again from what I was, And newly spirited, I'le right your honours. _Are_. Oh, my best love; that boy! _Phi_. What boy? _Are_. The pretty boy you gave me. _Phi_. What of him? _Are_. Must be no more mine. _Phi_. Why? _Are_. They are jealous of him. _Phi_. Jealous, who? _Are_. The King. _Phi_. Oh, my fortune, Then 'tis no idle jealousie. Let him go.