The multitude yt seldome know any thing but their owne opinions speake yt they would have
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.11-13), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

A State order, or p clamation.
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.38), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

xx
Shee may stand still discreetly enough, but ill favourdly dance her
measure.
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.49-50), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

xx
you are untraveld. they have never beene at travels
By Lady, in Philaster (1.1.69-70), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

You are not able to maintaine a discourse nor make a leg nor say excuse mee discreetly.
By Lady, in Philaster (1.1.75-77), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

My raigne shall bee soe easy to ye subject, / yt every man shall bee his prince himself, /
and his owne law
By Pharamond, in Philaster (1.1.152-154), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

xx
I wonder what's ye price? for certainly heele sell himselfe he has
soe praisd his shape
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.165-166), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

Let me perish, if I can find in all ye anotomy of yon mans
vertues, one sinew sound enough to promise for him hee shall bee constable.
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.169-172), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

Right noble Sr, as low as my obedience, / and wth a heart as loyall as my knee, / I beg yor favour.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.175-177), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

Nere stare, nor put on wonder: for you must / endure mee and you shall. This earth you
tread upon, / (a dowry as you hope wth this faire princess, / whose memory I bow to) was
not left / by my dead father (oh, I had a father to yor inheritance and I up and living./
having my selfe about mee and my sword, / ye soules of all my name, and memories, / these
armes and some few freinds, beside ye the gods, / to part soe calmely wth it and sitt still, /
and say I might have beene. I tell thee Pharamond / when thou are King
look I bee dead and rotten / and my name ashes.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.186-198), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 93v

A.
B.
You are too bold
By King, in Philaster (1.1.208-209), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

If you were sole inheritor to him / yt made ye world his: and coulst see noe sunne / shine upon
any thing but thine.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.229-231), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
mens hearts and faces are soe farre asunder yt they hold noe intelligence.
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.261-262), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

A.
B.
smooth yor brow or by ye gods.
By King, in Philaster (1.1.271-272), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

To doe this is to give fire to a dangerous traine
By Dion, in Philaster (1.1.304-305), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
to live recluse.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.315), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

A.
B.
My lord ye princess would speake wth you
By Lady, in Philaster (1.1.339-341), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Your eye may shoote mee dead, or those true red and white friends on her face may steale my ^ (soule out.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.1.351-352), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Nay stare not: I can thinke my selfe as great a basyliske as you.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.2.72-73), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Another soule into my body shot, / could not have fild mee wth more strengh and spirit, / than
this thy breath.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (1.2.98-101), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
let us leave and kisse, least some unwelcome guest should fall betwixt us, /
and wee should part wth out it.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (1.2.106-108), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
Hide mee from Pharamond! When thunder speakes, wch
is ye voice of Jove, / though I doe reverence yet I hide me not.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (1.2.149-151), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

I am loath to brawle wth such a s blast as thou / who art nought but a valiant voice: but if /
thou shalt pvoke mee further: man shall say / thou wert, and not lament it.
By Philaster, in Philaster (1.2.179-182), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Sr, you did take mee up when I was nothing, / and onely yet am something by beeing yours.
By Bellario, in Philaster (2.1.5-7), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

My lord, take this little praier. May sicke men, if they have your wish, bee well: / and heaven
hate those you curse though I bee one.
By Bellario, in Philaster (2.1.52-56), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
This art does outdoe story
By Philaster, in Philaster (2.1.60), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Bee not bawdy, nor dont brag. and then I thinke, I shall have sence enough to answere
all ye weighty apothegmes. yor roiall blood shall manage.
By Philaster, in Philaster (2.2.14-18), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

A.
B.
Deare lady.
By Pharamond, in Philaster (2.2.19-25), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

your lips are 2 twind cherries died in blushes, / wch those faire sunns above wth their bright
beames / reflect upon and ripen: sweetest beauty, / bow downe those branches, yt ye lon-ging tast, / of the faint looker on, may meete those blessings, / and tast and live.
By Pharamond, in Philaster (2.2.82-87), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Thy brows and cheekes are smooth as waters bee when noe breath troubles them.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (2.3.43-44), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Come ladies shall wee talke a round: as men doe walke a mile, woemen should talke an houre
after supper.
By Dion, in Philaster (2.4.1-3), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
Thou peice / made by a painter, and a Pothecary: / thou troubled sea
of lust. thou wilderness, / inhabited by wilde thoughts: thou swolne cloud / of infection.
By King, in Philaster (2.4.139-143), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

By all ye gods you swore by, and as many more of mine owne.
By Megra, in Philaster (2.4.155-156), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

ye people are all bent for him, / and like a feild of standing corne, yts moovd / wth a stiffe
gale; their heads bow all one way.
By Cleremont, in Philaster (3.1.20-23), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx
set hills on hills beetwixt mee and ye man yt utters this,
and I will scale them all, / and from ye utmost top fall on his neck, / like thunder from a cloud.
By Philaster, in Philaster (3.1.73-76), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

ye winds yt are let loose, / from ye foure several corners of ye earth, / and spread themselves all over sea and
land, / kisse not a chast one
By Philaster, in Philaster (3.1.119-122), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

xx A:
B.
A.
(This is a common expression every poet when a man is, (troubled wthin.) ***
areyou not ill my lord.
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.187-191), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Now I see, why my disturbed thoughts were soe pplext when first I went to her/ my heart held augury
By Philaster, in Philaster (3.1.207-209), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94r

Hew mee asunder, and whilst I can thinke, / Ile love those pieces you have cut away,/
better than those yt growe: and kisse those limbs / beecause you made them soe
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.247-250), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

To die is lesse then to bee borne, a lasting sleepe, a thing wee all pursue: I
know besides, it is but giuing ouer of a game, [that] must bee lost.
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.256-260), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

I will flie as farre as there is morning ere I giue distast to these most honourd mind.
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.284-286), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

If you shall heare [that] sorrows strucke mee dead, | and after find mee loiall, let there |
a teare shed from you, in my memory,| and I shall rest at peace.
By Bellario, in Philaster (3.1.290-293), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

[the] vulgar feed vpon opinions, errors, dreames: they strike [the] monuments| where noble naues lie sleeping: til they sweat, | and ye cold marble melt.
By Arethusa, in Philaster (3.2.37-45), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v

peace to [your] fairest thoughts, deare Mrs
By Philaster, in Philaster (3.2.46-47), Francis Beaumont
in British Library Additional MS 22608, f. 94v