Chapter XI: Part 11

_Pal._ Small winds shake him,
But what's the matter?

_Val. Theseus_ (who where he threats appals,) hath sent
Deadly defiance to him, and pronounces
Ruin to _Thebs_, who is at hand to seal
The promise of his wrath.

_Arc._ Let him approach:
But that we fear the gods in him, he brings not
A jot of terror to us; yet what man
Thirds his own worth (the case is each of ours)
When that his actions dregg'd, with mind assur'd
'Tis bad he goes about.

_Pal._ Leave that unreason'd.
Our services stand now for _Thebs_, not _Creon_,
Yet to be neutral to him, were dishonor;
Rebellious to oppose: therefore we must
With him stand to the mercy of our Fate,
Who hath bounded our last minute.

_Arc._ So we must;
Ist sed this wars afoot? or it shall be
On fail of some condition.

_Val._ 'Tis in motion
The intelligence of state came in the instant
With the defier.

_P[a]l._ Let's to the King, who, were he
A quarter carrier of that honor, which
His enemy came in, the bloud we venture
Should be as for our health, which were not spent,
Rather laid out for purchase: but alas
Our hands advanc'd before our hearts, what will
The fall o' th' stroke do damage?

_Arci._ Let th' event,
That never-erring Arbitrator, tell us
When we know all our selves, and let us follow
The becking of our chance. [_Exeunt._

_Scena Tertia._

_Enter_ Perithous, Hippolita, Emilia.

_Pir._ No further.

_Hip._ Sir farewel; repeat my wishes
To our great Lord, of whose success I dare not
Make any timerous question; yet I wish him
Excess, and overflow of power, and't might be
To dure ill-dealing fortune; speed to him,
Store never hurts good Governors.

_Pir._ Though I know
His Ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they
Must yield their tribute there: My precious Maid,
Those best affections that the heavens infuse
In their best temper'd pieces, keep enthron'd
In your dear heart.

_Emil._ Thanks Sir; remember me
To our all-Royal Brother, for whose speed
The great _Bellona_ I'll solicite; and
Since in our terrene State, petitions are not
Without gifts understood: I'll offer to her
What I shall be advis'd she likes; our hearts
Are in his Army, in his Tent.

_Hip._ In's bosom:
We have been Soldiers, and we cannot weep
When our Friends do'n their helms, or put to Sea,
Or tell of Babes broach'd on the Launce, or Women
That have sod their Infants in (and after eat them)
The brine, they wept at killing 'em; Then if
You stay to see of us such Spinsters, we
Should hold you here for ever.

_Pir._ Peace be to you
As I pursue this war, which shall be then
Beyond further requiring. [_Exit_ Pir.

_Emil._ How his longing
Follows his friend; since his depart, his sports
Though craving seriousness, and skill, past slightly
His careless execution, where nor gain
Made him regard, or loss consider, but
Playing o'er business in his hand, another
Directing in his head, his mind, nurse equal
To these so diff'ring Twins; have you observ'd him,
Since our great Lord departed?

_Hip._ With much labour:
And I did love him for't, they two have Cabin'd
In many as dangerous, as poor a corner,
Peril and want contending, they have skift
Torrents, whose roaring tyranny and power
I'th' least of these was dreadful, and they have
Fought out together, where Death's-self was lodg'd,
Yet Fate hath brought them off: their knot of love
Ti'd, weav'd, intangl'd, with so true, so long,
And with a finger of so deep a cunning
May be out-worn, never undone. I think
_Theseus_ cannot be umpire to himself
Cleaving his conscience into twain, and doing
Each side like Justice, which he loves best.

_Emil._ Doubtless
There is a best, and reason has no manners
To say it is not you: I was acquainted
Once with a time, when I enjoy'd a Play-fellow;
You were at wars, when she the grave enrich'd,
Who made too proud the Bed, took leave o' th' Moon
(Which then lookt pale at parting) when our count
Was each eleven.

_Hip._ 'Twas _Flavia_.

[_Two Hearses ready with_ Palamon, _and_ Arcite:
_The three Queens_. Theseus, _and his Lords ready_.

_Emil._ Yes,
You talk of _Pirithous_ and _Theseus_ love;
Theirs has more ground, is more maturely season'd,
More buckled with strong judgement, and their needs
The one of th' other may be said to water
Their intertangled roots of love, but I
And she (I sigh and spoke of) were things innocent,
Lov'd for we did, and like the Elements
That know not what, nor why, yet do effect
Rare issues by their operance; our souls
Did so to one another; what she lik'd,
Was then of me approv'd, what not condemn'd
No more arraignment, the flower that I would pluck
And put between my breasts, oh (then but beginning
To swell about the blossom) she would long
Till she had such another, and commit it
To the like innocent Cradle, where _Phenix_-like
They di'd in perfume: on my head no toy
But was her pattern, her affections pretty
Though happily, her careless, were, I followed
For my most serious decking, had mine ear
Stol'n some new air, or at adventure humm'd on
From musical Coynage, why, it was a Note
Whereon her spirits would sojourn (rather dwell on)
And sing it in her slumbers; This rehearsal
(Which fury innocent wots well) comes in
Like old importments-bastard, has this end;
That the true love 'tween Maid, and Maid, may be
More than in sex individual.

_Hip._ Y'are out of breath
And this high speeded-pace, is but to say
That you shall never (like the Maid _Flavina_)
Love any that's call'd Man.

_Emil._ I'm sure I shall not.

_Hip._ Now alack weak Sister,
I must no more believe thee in this point
(Though in't I know thou dost believe thy self)
Then I will trust a sickly appetite,
That loaths even as it longs, but sure my Sister
If I were ripe for your perswasion, you
Have said enough to shake me from the Arm
Of the all noble _Theseus_, for whose fortunes,
I will now in, and kneel with great assurance,
That we, more than his _Pirathous_, possess
The high Throne in his heart.

_E[m]il._ I am not against your faith,
Yet I continue mine. [_Exeunt Cornets._

_Scena Quarta._

_A Battel struck within: then a Retreat: Florish. Then Enter_
Theseus _(victor) the three Queens meet him, and fall on their_
_faces before him_.

_1 Qu._ To thee no Star be dark.

_2 Qu._ Both Heaven and Earth
Friend thee for ever.

_3 Qu._ All the good that may
Be wish'd upon thy head, I cry _Amen_ to't.

_Thes._ Th'impartial gods, who from the mounted heavens
View us their mortal Herd, behold who erre,
And in their time chastise: goe and find out
The bones of your dead Lords, and honor them
With treble ceremony, rather than a gap
Should be in their dear rights, we would supply't.
But those we will depute, which shall invest
You in your dignities, and even each thing
Our haste does leave imperfect; So adieu
And heavens good eyes look on you, what are those? [_Exeunt_ Queens.

_Herald._ Men of great quality, as may be judg'd
By their appointment; some of _Thebs_ have told's
They are Sisters children, Nephews to the King.

_Thes._ By th' Helme of _Mars_, I saw them in the War,
Like to a pair of Lions, smear'd with prey,
Make lanes in troops agast. I fixt my note
Constantly on them; for they were a mark
Worth a god's view: what prisoner was't that told me
When I enquir'd their names?

_Herald._ We leave, they'r called
_Arcite_ and _Palamon_.

_Thes._ 'Tis right, those, those
They are not dead? [_Three Hearses ready._

_Her._ Nor in a state of life, had they been taken
When their last hurts were given, 'twas possible
They might have been recover'd; Yet they breathe
And have the name of men.

_Thes._ Then like men use 'em
The very lees of such (millions of rates)
Exceed the Wine of others, all our Surgeons
Convent in their behoof, our richest balmes
Rather than niggard waste, their lives concern us,
Much more than _Thebs_ is worth, rather than have 'em
Freed of this plight, and in their morning state
(Sound and at liberty) I would 'em dead,
But forty thousand fold, we had rather have 'em
Prisoners to us, than death; bear 'em speedily
From our kind air, to them unkind, and minister
What man to man may do for our sake more,
Since I have known frights, fury, friends, beheasts,
Loves, provocations, zeal, a Mistriss taske,
Desire of liberty, a feavor, madness,
Hath set a mark which nature could not reach too
Without some imposition, sickness in Will
Or wrestling strength in reason, for our Love
And great _Apollos_ mercy, all our best,
Their best [skill] tender. Lead into the City,
Where having bound things scatter'd, we will post. _Florish._
To _Athens_ for o[u]r Army. [_Exeunt. Musick._

_Scena Quinta._

_Enter the Queens, with the Hearses of their Knights,_
_in a Funeral Solemnity_, &c.

_Urns and Odours, bring away,_
_Vapors, sighs, darken the day;_
_Our dole more deadly looks, than dying_
_Balmes, and Gumms, and heavy cheers,_

_Sacred vi[a]ls fill'd with tears,_
_And clamors, through the wild air flying_:

_Come all sad and solemn Shows,_
_That are quick-ey'd pleasures foes;_
_We convent nought else but woes._
_We convent_, &c.

_3 Qu._ This funeral path, brings to your houshold[s] grave[:]
Joy seize on you again: peace, sleep with him.

_2 Qu._ And this to yours.

_1 Qu._ Yours this way: Heavens lend
A thousand differing ways to one sure end.

_3 Qu._ This world's a City full of straying streets,
And Death's the Market-place, where each one meets.

[_Exeunt severally._

_Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Jaylor and Wooer._

_Jail._ I may depart with little, while I live, something I
May cast to you, not much: Alas the Prison I
Keep, though it be for great ones, yet they seldom
Come; before one _Salmon_, you shall take a number
Of Minnows: I am given out to be better lin'd
Than it can appear, to me report is a true
Speaker: I would I were really, that I am
Deliver'd to be: Marry, what I have (be it what
It will) I will assure upon my daughter at
The day of my death.

_Wooer._ Sir, I demand no more than your own offer,
And I will estate your Daughter, in what I
Have promised.

_Jail._ Well, we will talk more of this, when the solemnity
Is past; But have you a full promise of her?

_Enter Daughter._

When that shall be seen, I tender my consent.

_Wooer._ I have Sir; here she comes.

_Jail._ Your friend and I have chanced to name
You here, upon the old business: but no more of that.
Now, so soon as the Court-hurry is over, we will
Have an end of it: I' th' mean time look tenderly
To the two prisoners. I can tell you they are Princes.

_Daugh._ These strewings are for their Chamber; 'tis pity they
Are in prison, and 'twere pity they should be out: I
Do think they have patience to make any adversity
Asham'd; the prison it self is proud of 'em; and
They have all the world in their Chamber.

_Jail._ They are fam'd to be a pair of absolute men.

_Daugh._ By my troth, I think Fame but stammers 'em, they
Stand a grief above the reach of report.

_Jail._ I heard them reported in the battel, to be the only doers.

_Daugh._ Nay, most likely, for they are noble sufferers; I
Marvel how they would have look'd, had they been
Victors, that with such a constant Nobility, enforce
A freedom out of bondage, making misery their
Mirth, and affliction a toy to jest at.

_Jail._ Doe they so?

_Daugh._ It seems to me, they have no more sence of their
Captivity, than I of ruling _Athens_: they eat
Well, look merrily, discourse of many things,
But nothing of their own restraint, and disasters:
Yet sometime a divided sigh, martyr'd as 'twere
I' th' deliverance, will break from one of them,
When the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke,
That I could wish my self a sigh to be so chid,
Or at least a sigher to be comforted.

_Wooer._ I never saw 'em.

_Jail._ The Duke himself came privately in the night.

_Enter_ Palamon, _and_ Arcite _above_.

And so did they, what the reason of it is, I
Know not: Look, yonder they are; that's
_Arcite_ looks out.

_Daugh._ No Sir, no, that's _Palamon_: _Arcite_ is the
Lower of the twain; you may perceive a part
Of him.

_Jail._ Go to, leave your pointing; they would not
Make us their object; out of their sight.

_Daugh._ It is a holliday to look on them: Lord, the
Difference of men. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Palamon, _and_ Arcite _in prison_.

_Pal._ How do you, Noble Cosin?

_Arcite._ How do you, Sir?

_Pal._ Why, strong enough to laugh at misery,
And bear the chance of war yet, we are prisoners
I fear for ever Cosin.

_Arcite._ I believe it,
And to that destiny have patiently
Laid up my hour to come.

_Pal._ Oh Cosin _Arcite_,
Where is _Thebs_ now? where is our noble Countrey?
Where are our friends, and kindreds? never more
Must we behold those comforts, never see
The hardy youths strive for the Games of honor
(Hung with the painted favours of their Ladies)
Like tall Ships under Sail: then start amongst 'em
And as an Eastwind leave 'em all behind us,
Like lazy Clouds, whilst _Palamon_ and _Arcite_,
Even in the wagging of a wanton leg
Out-stript the peoples praises, won the Garlands,
E'r they have time to wish 'em ours. Oh never
Shall we two exercise, like twins of honor,
Our Arms again, and feel our fiery horses,
Like proud Seas under us, our good Swords, now
(Better the red-ey'd god of War nev'r were)
Bravish'd our sides, like age, must run to rust,
And deck the Temples of those gods that hate us,
These hands shall never draw 'em out like light'ning
To blast whole Armies more.

_Arcite._ No _Palamon_,
Those hopes are prisoners with us, here we are
And here the graces of our youths must wither
Like a too-timely Spring; here age must find us,
And which is heaviest (_Palamon_) unmarried,
The sweet embraces of a loving wife
Loaden with kisses, arm'd with thousand _Cupids_
Shall never claspe our necks, no issue know us,
No figures of our selves shall we ev'r see,
To glad our age, and like young Eagles teach 'em
Boldly to gaze against bright arms, and say
Remember what your Fathers were, and conquer.
The fair-ey'd Maids, shall weep our banishments,
And in their Songs, curse ever-blinded fortune
Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done
To youth and nature; This is all our world;
We shall know nothing here, but one another,
Hear nothing, but the clock that tels our woes.
The Vine shall grow, but we shall never see it:
Summer shall come, and with her all delights;
But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still.

_Pal._ 'Tis too true _Arcite_. To our Theban hounds,
That shook the aged Forrest with their ecchoes,
No more now must we hollo, no more shake
Our pointed Javelins, whilst the angry Swine
Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,
Struck with our well-steel'd Darts: All valiant uses,
(The food and nourishment of noble minds,)
In us two here shall perish; we shall die
(Which is the curse of honor) lastly,
Children of grief, and Ignorance.

_Arc._ Yet Cosin,
Even from the bottom of these miseries
From all that fortune can inflict upon us,
I see two comforts rising, two meer blessings,
If the gods please, to hold here a brave patience,
And the enjoying of our griefs together.
Whilst _Palamon_ is with me, let me perish
If I think this our prison.

_Pala._ Certainly,
'Tis a main goodness, Cosin, that our fortunes
Were twin'd together; 'tis most true, two souls
Put in two noble bodies, let 'em suffer
The gaul of hazard, so they grow together,
Will never sink, they must not, say they could,
A willing man dies sleeping, and all's done.

_Arc._ Shall we make worthy uses of this place
That all men hate so much?

_Pal._ How gentle Cosin?

_Arc._ Let's think this prison, Holy Sanctuary,
To keep us from corruption of worse men,
We are young, and yet desire the wayes of honour,
That liberty and common conversation,
The poison of pure spirits, might, like women,
Wooe us to wander from. What worthy blessing
Can be but our imaginations
May make it ours? And here being thus together,
We are an endless mine to one another;
We are one anothers Wife, ever begetting
New births of love; we are Father, Friends, Acquaintance,
We are, in one another, Families,
I am your Heir, and you are mine: This place
Is our Inheritance: no hard oppressor
Dare take this from us; here with a little patience
We shall live long, and loving: No surfeits seek us:
The hand of War hurts none here, nor the Seas
Swallow their youth: were we at liberty,
A Wife might part us lawfully, or business,
Quarrels consume us: Envy of ill men
Crave our acquaintance, I might sicken Cosin,
Where you should never know it, and so perish
Without your noble hand to close mine eyes,
Or prayers to the gods; a thousand chances
Were we from hence, would sever us.

_Pal._ You have made me
(I thank you Cosin _Arcite_) almost wanton
With my Captivity: what a misery
It is to live abroad! and every where:
'Tis like a Beast me thinks: I find the Court here,
I 'm sure a more content, and all those pleasures
That wooe the Wills of men to vanity,
I see through now; and am sufficient
To tell the world, 'tis but a gaudy shadow,
That old Time, as he passes by, takes with him,
What had we been old in the Court of _Creon_,
Where sin is Justice, Lust, and Ignorance,
The virtues of the great ones: Cosin _Arcite_
Had not the loving gods found this place for us
We had di'd as they doe, ill old men unwept,
And had their Epitaphs, the peoples Curses,
Shall I say more?

_Arc._ I would hear you still.

_Pal._ Ye shall.
Is there record of any two that lov'd
Better than we two _Arcite_?

_Arc._ Sure there cannot.

_Pal._ I doe not think it possible our friendship
Should ever leave us.

_Arc._ Till our deaths it cannot.

_Enter_ Emilia _and her Woman_.

And after death our spirits shall be led
To those that love eternally. Speak on Sir.
This Garden has a world of pleasures in't.

_Emil._ What Flower is this?

_Wom._ 'Tis call'd _Narcissus_, Madam.

_Emil._ That was a fair Boy certain, but a fool,
To love himself, were there not Maids enough?

_Arc._ Pray forward.

_Pal._ Yes.

_Emil._ Or were they all hard-hearted?

_Wom._ They could not be to one so fair.

_Emil._ Thou wouldst not.

_Wom._ I think I should not, Madam.

_Emil._ That's a good wench:
But take heed to your kindness though.

_Wom._ Why Madam?

_Emil._ Men are mad things.

_Arcite._ Will ye go forward, Cosin?

_Emil._ Canst not thou work such Flowers in Silk wench?

_Wom._ Yes.

_Emil._ I'll have a Gown full of 'em, and of these,
This is a pretty colour, wil't not do
Rarely upon a skirt wench?

_Wom._ Dainty Madam.

_Arc._ Cosin, Cosin, how do you, Sir? Why _Palamon_?

_Pal._ Never till now, I was in prison _Arcite_.

_Arc._ Why, what's the matter man?

_Pal._ Behold, and wonder.
By heaven she is a Goddess.

_Arcite._ Ha.

_Pal._ Do reverence.
She is a Goddess _Arcite_.

_Emil._ Of all Flowers,
Methinks a Rose is best.

_Wom._ Why gentle Madam?

_Emil._ It is the very Emblem of a Maid.
For when the West wind courts her gently
How modestly she blows, and paints the Sun,
With her chaste blushes! When the North comes near her,
Rude and impatient, then like Chastity
She locks her beauties in her bud again,
And leaves him to base briers.

_Wom._ Yet good Madam,
Sometimes her modesty will blow so far
She falls for't: a Maid
If she have any honor, would be loth
To take example by her.

_Emil._ Thou art wanton.

_Arc._ She is wondrous fair.

_Pal._ She is all the beauty extant.

_Emil._ The Sun grows high, let's walk in, keep these flowers,
We'll see how near Art can come near their colours;
I'm wondrous merry-hearted, I could laugh now.

_Wom._ I could lie down I am sure.

_Emil._ And take one with you?

_Wom._ That's as we bargain, Madam.

_Emil._ Well, agree then. [_Exeunt_ Emilia _and Woman_.

_Pal._ What think you of this beauty?

_Arc._ 'Tis a rare one.

_Pal._ Is't but a rare one?

_Arc._ Yes, a matchless beauty.

_Pal._ Might not a man well lose himself, and love her?

_Arc._ I cannot tell what you have done, I have,
Beshrew mine eyes for't, now I feel my Shackles.

_Pal._ You love her then?

_Arc._ Who would not?

_Pal._ And desire her?

_Arc._ Before my liberty.

_Pal._ I saw her first.

_Arc._ That's nothing.

_Pal._ But it shall be.

_Arc._ I saw her too.

_Pal._ Yes, but you must not love her.

_Arc._ I will not as you do; to worship her;
As she is heavenly, and a blessed goddess;
(I love her as a woman, to enjoy her)
So both may love.

_Pal._ You shall not love at all.

_Arc._ Not love at all;
Who shall denie me?

_Pal._ I that first saw her; I that took possession
First with mine eye of all those beauties
In her reveal'd to mankind: if thou lov'st her;
Or entertain'st a hope to blast my wishes,
Thou art a Traitor _Arcite_, and a fellow
False as thy Title to her: friendship, bloud
And all the ties between us I disclai[m]
If thou once think upon her.

_Arc._ Yes, I love her,
And if the lives of all my name lay on it,
I must do so, I love her with my soul,
If that will lose ye, farewel _Palamon_.
I say again, I love, and in loving her, maintain
I am as worthy and as free a Lover
And have as just a title to her beauty
As any _Palamon_, or any living
That is a mans Son.

_Pal._ Have I call'd thee friend?

_Arc._ Yes, and have found me so; why are you mov'd thus?
Let me deal coldly with you, am not I
Part of your blood, part of your soul? you have told me
That I was _Palamon_, and you were _Arcite_.

_Pal._ Yes.

_Arc._ Am not I liable to those affections,
Those joyes, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer?

_Pal._ Ye may be.

_Arc._ Why then would you deal so cunningly,
So strangely, so unlike a Noble Kinsman
To love alone? speak truly, do you think me
Unworthy of her sight?

_Pal._ No, but unjust,
If thou pursue that [si]ght.

_Arc._ Because another
First sees the Enemy, shall I stand still
And let mine honor down, and never charge?

_Pal._ Yes, if he be but one.

_Arc._ But say that one
Had rather combat me?

_Pal._ Let that one say so,
And use thy freedom: else if thou pursuest her,
Be as that cursed man that hates his Countrey,
A branded villain.

_Arc._ You are mad.

_Pal._ I must be.
Till thou art worthy, _Arcite_, it concerns me,
And in this madness, if I hazard thee
And take thy life, I deal but truly.

_Arc._ Fie Sir.
You play the child extreamly: I will love her,
I must, I ought to do so, and I dare,
And all this justly.

_Pal._ Oh that now, that now
Thy false-self, and thy friend, had but this fortune
To be one hour at liberty, and graspe
Our good swords in our hands, I would quickly teach thee
What 'twere to filch affection from another:
Thou art baser in it than a Cutpurse;
Put but thy head out of this window more,
And as I have a soul, I'll nail thy life to't.

_Arc._ Thou dar'st not fool, thou canst not, thou art feeble.
Put my head out? I'll throw my Body out,
And leap the Garden, when I see her next.

_Enter Keeper._

And pitch between her Arms to anger thee.

_Pal._ No more; the Keepers coming; I shall live
To knock thy brains out with my Shackles.

_Arc._ Doe.

_Keep._ By your leave, Gentlemen.

_Pala._ Now honest Keeper?

_Keep._ Lord _Arcite_, you must presently to th' Duke;
The cause I know not yet.

_Arc._ I am ready Keeper.

_Keep._ Prince _Palamon_, I must awhile bereave you
Of your fair Cosins company. [_Exeunt_ Arcite, _and Keeper_.

_Pal._ And me too,
Even when you please of life; why is he sent for?
It may be he shall marry her, he's goodly,
And like enough the Duke hath taken notice
Both of his Bloud and Body: but his falshood,
Why should a friend be treacherous? if that
Get him a Wife so noble, and so fair;
Let honest men ne'er love again. Once more
I would but see this fair one: blessed Garden,
And Fruit, and Flowers more blessed that still blossom
As her bright eies shine on ye. Would I were
For all the fortune of my life hereafter
Yon little Tree, yon blooming Apricock;
How I would spread, and fling my wanton arms
In at her window; I would bring her fruit
Fit for the gods to feed on: youth and pleasure
Still as she tasted should be doubled on her,
And if she be not heavenly, I would make her
So near the gods in nature, they should fear her.

_Enter Keeper._

And then I'm sure she would love me: how now Keeper,
Where's _Arcite_?

_Keep._ Banish'd: Prince _Pirithous_
Obtain'd his liberty; but never more
Upon his oath and life must he set foot
Upon this Kingdom.

_Pal._ He's a blessed man,
He shall see _Thebes_ again, and call to Arms
The bold young men, that when he bids 'em charge,
Fall on like fire: _Arcite_ shall have a Fortune,
If he dare make himself a worthy Lover,
Yet in the Field to strike a battel for her;
And if he lose her then, he's a cold Coward;
How bravely may he bear himself to win her
If he be noble _Arcite_; thousand ways.
Were I at liberty, I would do things
Of such a virtuous greatness, that this Lady,
This blushing Virgin should take manhood to her
And seek to ravish me.

_Keep._ My Lord for you
I have this charge too.

_Pal._ To discharge my life.

_Keep._ No, but from this place to remove your Lordship,
The windows are too open.

_Pal._ Devils take 'em
That are so envious to me; prethee kill me.

_Keep._ And hang for't afterward.

_Pal._ By this good light
Had I a sword I would kill thee.

_Keep._ Why my Lord?

_Pal._ Thou bring'st such pelting scurvy news continually
Thou art not worthy life; I will not go.

_Keep._ Indeed you must my Lord.

_Pal._ May I see the Garden?

_Keep._ No.

_Pal._ Then I am resolv'd, I will not go.

_Keep._ I must constrain you then: and, for you are dangerous
I'll clap more irons on you.

_Pal._ Doe good Keeper.
I'll shake 'em so, ye shall not sleep,
I'll make ye a new Morri[ss]e, must I goe?

_Keep._ There is no remedy.

_Pal._ Farewel kind window.
May rude wind never hurt thee. Oh my Lady,
If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was,
Dream how I suffer. Come; now bury me. [_Exeunt_ Palamon _and Keeper_.

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Arcite.

_Arcite._ Banish'd the Kingdom? 'tis a benefit,
A mercy I must thank 'em for, but banish'd
The free enjoying of that face I die for,
Oh 'twas a studdied punishment, a death
Beyond Imagination: Such a vengeance
That were I old and wicked, all my sins
Could never pluck upon me, _Palamon_;
Thou hast the Start now, thou shalt stay and see
Her bright eyes break each morning 'gainst thy window,
And let in life into thee; Thou shalt feed
Upon the sweetness of a noble beauty,
That nature never exceeded, nor never shall:
Good gods! what happiness has _Palamon_!
Twenty to one, he'll come to speak to her,
And if she be as gentle, as she's fair,
I know she's his, he has a Tongue will tame
Tempests, and make the wild Rocks wanton. Come what can come,
The worst is death; I will not leave the Kingdom,
I know mine own is but a heap of ruins,
And no redress there, if I go, he has her,
I 'm resolv'd an other shape shall make me,
Or end my fortunes. Either way, I' m happy:
I'll see her, and be near her, or no more.

_Enter 4. Country people, & one with a garland before them._

_1._ My Masters, I'll be there that's certain.

_2._ And I'll be there.

_3._ And I.

_4._ Why then have with ye Boys; 'Tis but [a] chiding,
Let the plough play to day, I'll tick['lt] out
Of the jades tails to morrow.

_1._ I 'm sure
To have my wife as jealous as a Turkey:
But that's all one, I'll goe through, let her mumble.

_2._ Clap her aboard to morrow night, and stoa her,
And all's made up again.

_3._ I, do but put a fesku in her fist, and you shall see her
Take a new lesson out, and be a good wench.
Doe we all hold, against the Maying?

_4._ Hold? what should ail us?

_3. Arcas_, will be there.

_2._ And _Sennois_.
And _Rycas_, and 3. Better lads never danc'd under green Tree,
And yet know what wenches: ha?
But will the dainty _Domine_, the Schoolemaster keep touch
Doe you think: For he do's all ye know.

_3._ He'll eat a hornbook ere he fail: goe too, the matter's
too far driven between him, and the Tanners daughter, to let
slip now, and she must see the Duke, and she must dance too.

_4._ Shall we be lusty.

_2._ All the Boys in Athens blow wind i'th' breech on's, and
here I'll be and there I'll be, for our Town, and here again,
and there again: Ha, Boys, heigh for the weavers.

_1._ This must be done i'th woods.

_4._ O pardon me.

_2._ By any means our thing of learning sees so: Where he
himself will edifie the Duke most parlously in our behalfs:
He's excellent i'th' woods, bring him to'th' plains, his
learning makes no cry.

_3._ We'll see the sports, then every man to's Tackle: and
Sweet Companions lets rehearse by any means, before
The Ladies see us, and doe sweetly, and God knows what
May come on't.

_4._ Content; the sports once ended, we'll perform. Away
Boys and hold.

_Arc._ By your leaves honest friends: Pray you w[h]ither goe you.

_4._ Whither? Why, what a question's that!

_Arc._ Yes, 'tis a question, to me that know not.

_3._ To the _Games_, my Friend.

_2._ Where were you bred you know it not?

_Arc._ Not far Sir,
Are there such _Games_, to day?

_1._ Yes marry are there:
And such as you never saw; The _Duke_, himself
Will be in person there.

_Arc._ What pastimes are they?

_2._ Wrastling, and Running; 'Tis a pretty Fellow.

_3._ Thou wilt not goe along.

_Arc._ Not yet Sir.

_4._ Well Sir
Take your own time, come Boys.

_1._ My mind misgives me
This fellow has a veng'ance trick o'th hip,
Marke how his Bodi's made for't.

_2._ I'll be hang'd though
If he dare venture, hang him plumb-porredge,
He wrestle? He rost eggs. Come lets be gon Lads. [_Exeunt 4._

_Arc._ This is an offer'd oportunity
I durst not wish for. Well, I could have wrestled,
The best men call'd it excellent, and run
Swifter, than wind upon a feild of Corn
(Curling the wealthy ears) never flew: I'll venture,
And in some poor disguize be there, who knows
Whether my brows may not be girt with garlands?
And happiness prefer me to a place,
Where I may ever dwell in sight of her. [_Exit Arcite._

_Scæena_ [4].

_Enter Jailors Daughter alone._

_Daugh._ Why should I love this Gentleman? 'Tis odds
He never will affect me; [I am] base,
My Father the mean Keeper of his Prison,
And he a Prince; To marry him is hopeless;
To be his whore, is witles; Out upon't;
What pushes are we wenches driven to
When fifteen once has found us? First I saw him,
I (seeing) thought he was a goodly man;
He has as much to please a woman in him,
(If he please to bestow it so) as ever
These eyes yet lookt on; Next, I pittied him,
And so would any young wench o'my Conscience
That ever dream'd, or vow'd her Maydenhead
To a young hansom Man; Then I lov'd him,
(Extremely lov'd him) infinitely lov'd him;
And yet he had [a] Cosen, fair as he too.
But in my heart was _Palamon_, and there
Lord, what a coyl he keepes! To hear him
Sing in an evening, what a Heaven it is!
And yet his Songs are sad-ones; Fairer spoken,
Was never Gentleman. When I come in
To bring him water in a morning, first
He bows his noble body, then salutes me, thus:
Fair, gentle Mayd, good morrow, may thy goodness,
Get thee a happy husband; Once he kist me,
I lov'd my lips the better ten daies after,
Would he would doe so ev'ry day; He greives much,
And me as much to see his misery:
What should I doe, to make him know I love him,
For I would fain enjoy him? Say I ventur'd
To set him free? What saies the Law then? Thus much
For Law, or kindred: I will doe it,
And this night, or to morrow he shall love me. [_Exit._

[_This short florish of Cornets and Showtes within._

_Scæna_ [5].

_Enter Theseus, Hippolita, Pirithous, Emilia: Arcite_
_with a Garland, &c._

_Thes._ You have done worthily; I have not seen
Since _Hercules_, a man of tougher sinews;
What ere you are, you run the best, and wrestle,
That these times can allow.

_Arcite._ I'm proud to please you.

_Thes._ What Countrie bred you?

_Arcite._ This; But far off, Prince.

_Thes._ Are you a Gentleman?

_Arcite._ My father said so;
And to those gentle uses gave me life.

_Thes._ Are you his heir?

_Arcite._ His youngest Sir.

_Thes._ Your Father
Sure is a happy S[ir]e, then: What proves you?

_Arcite._ A little of all noble Qualities:
I could have kept a Hawk, and well have hollow'd
To a deep crie of Dogs; I dare not praise
My feat in horsemanship: yet they that knew me
Would say it was my best peece: last, and greatest,
I would be thought a Soldier.

_Thes._ You are perfect.

_Pirith._ Upon my soul, a proper man.

_Emilia._ He is so.

_Per._ How doe you like him Ladie?

_Hip._ I admire him,
I have not seen so young a man, so noble
(If he say true,) of his sort.

_Emil._ Believe,
His mother was a wondrous handsome woman,
His face me thinks, goes that way.

_Hip._ But his Body
And firie mind, illustrate a brave Father.

_Per._ Mark how his virtue, like a hidden Sun,
Breaks through his baser garments.

_Hip._ He's well got sure.

_Thes._ What made you seek this place Sir?

_Arc._ Noble _Theseus_.
To purchase name, and doe my ablest service
To such a well-found wonder, as thy worth,
For only in thy Court, of all the world
Dwells fair-ey'd honor.

_Per._ All his words are worthy.

_Thes._ Sir, we are much endebted to your travell,
Nor shall you loose your wish: _Perithous_
Dispose of this faire Gentleman.

_Perith._ Thanks _Theseus_.
What ere you are y'are mine, and I shall give you
To a most noble service, to this Lady,
This bright young Virgin; Pray observe her goodness;
You have honour'd her fair birth-day, with your virtues,
And as your due y'are hers: kiss her fair hand Sir.

_Arc._ Sir, y'are a noble Giver: dearest Beautie,
Thus let me seal my vow'd faith: when your Servant
(Your most unworthie Creature) but offends you,
Command him die, he shall.

_Emil._ That were too cruell.
If you deserve well Sir; I shall soon see't:
Y'are mine, and somewhat better than your ranck I'll use you.

_Per._ I'll see you furnish'd, and because you say
You are a horseman, I must needs intreat you
This after noon to ride, but 'tis a rough one.

_Arc._ I like him better (Prince) I shall not then
Freeze in my Saddle.

_Thes._ Sweet, you must be readie,
And you _Emilia_, and you (Friend) and all
To morrow by the Sun, to doe observance
To flowry May, in _Dian's_ wood: wait well Sir,
Upon your Mistris: _Emely_, I hope
He shall not goe a foot.

_Emil._ That were a shame Sir,
While I have horses: take your choice, and what
You want at any time, let me but know it;
If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you
You'll find a loving Mistris.

_Arc._ If I doe not,
Let me find that my Father ever hated,
Disgrace, and blows.

_Thes._ Go lead the way; You have won it:
It shall be so; You shall receive all dues
Fit for the honor you have won; 'Twere wrong else.
Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a Servant,
That if I were a woman, would be Master,
But you are wise. [_Florish._

_Emil._ I hope too wise for that Sir. [_Exeunt omnes._

_Scæna_ 6.

_Enter Jaylors Daughter alone._

_Daughter._ Let all the Dukes, and all the divells rore,
He is at liberty: I have ventur'd for him:
And out I have brought him to a little wood
A mile hence, I have sent him, where a Cedar,
Higher than all the rest, spreads like a plane
Fast by a Brook, and there he shall keep close,
Till I provide him Fyles, and food; for yet
His yron bracelets are not off. O Love
What a stout hearted child thou art! My Father
Durst better have indur'd cold iron, than done it:
I love him beyond love, and beyond reason,
Or wit, or safetie: I have made him know it
I care not, I am desperate: If the Law
Find me, and then condemne me for't; Some wenches,
Some honest hearted Maids, will sing my Dirge.
And tell to memory, my death was noble,
Dying almost a Martyr: That way he takes,
I purpose is my way too: Sure he cannot
Be so unmanly, as to leave me here,
If he doe, Maids will not so easily
Trust men again: And yet he has not thank'd me
For what I have done: no not so much as kist me,
And that (me thinks) is not so well; Nor scarcely
Could I persuade him to become a Freeman,
He made such scruples of the wrong he did
To me, and to my Father. Yet I hope
When he considers more, this love of mine
Will take more root within him: Let him doe
What he will with me, so he use me kindly,
For use me so he shall, or I'll proclaim him,
And to his face, no man: I'll presently
Provide him necessaries, and pack my cloaths up,
And where there is a path of ground I'll venture
So he be with me; By him, like a shadow
I'll ever dwell; Within this hour the whoobub
Will be all o'er the prison: [I am] then
Kissing the man they look for: Farewell Father,
Get many more such prisoners, and such daughters,
And shortly you may keep your self. Now to him:

[_Cornets in sundry places. Noise and hollowing as people a
Maying._

_Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Arcite alone._

_Arcite._ The Duke has lost Hypolita; Each took
A severall land. This is a solemn Right
They owe bloom'd May, and the _Athenians_ pay it
To 'th' heart of Ceremony: O Queen _Emilia_
Fresher than May, sweeter
Then her gold Buttons on the bows, or all
Th'enamell'd knacks o'th' Mead, or garden, ye[a]
(We challenge too) the banck of any Nymph
That makes the stream seem flowers; Thou o Jewell
O'th wood, o'th world, hast likewise blest a pace
With thy sole presence, in thy rumination
That I poor man might eftsoones come betwen
And chop on some cold thought, thrice blessed chance
To drop on such a Mistris, expectation
Most guiltless on't: tell me O Lady Fortune
(Next after _Emely_ my Sovereign) how far
I may be proud. She takes strong note of me,
Hath made me near her; and this beauteous Morn
(The prim'st of all the year) presents me with
A brace of horses, two such Steeds might well
Be by a pair of Kings backt, in a Field
That their crowns titles tried: Alas, alas
Poor Cosen _Palamon_, poor prisoner, thou
So little dream'st upon my fortune, that
Thou thinkst thy self, the happier thing, to be
So near _Emilia_, me thou deem'st at _Thebs_,
And therein wretched, although free; But if
Thou knew'st my Mistris breath'd on me, and that
I ear'd her language, liv'd in her eye; O Coz
What passion would enclose thee.

_Enter Palamon as out of a Bush, with his Shackles:_
_bends his fist at Arcite._

_Palamon._ Traytor kinsman,
Thou shouldst perceive my passion, if these signs
Of prisonment were off me, and this hand
But owner of a Sword: By all oaths in one
I, and the justice of my love would make thee
A confest Traytor: O thou most perfidious
That ever gently look'd the voydes of honor.
That ev'r bore gentle Token; falsest Cosen
That ever blood made kin, call'st thou her thine?
I'll prove it in my Shackles, with these hands,
Void of appointment, that thou ly'st, and art
A very theef in love, a Chaffy Lord
Nor worth the name of villain: had I a Sword
And these house cloggs away.

_Arc._ Dear Cosin _Palamon_.

_Pal._ Cosoner _Arcite_, give me language, such
As thou hast shew'd me feat.

_Arc._ Not finding in
The circuit of my breast, any gross stuff
To form me like your blazon, holds me to
This gentleness of answer; 'tis your passion
That thus mistakes, the which to you being enemy,
Cannot to me be kind: honor, and honestie
I cherish, and depend on, how so ev'r
You skip them in me, and with them fair Coz
I'll maintain my proceedings; pray be pleas'd
To shew in generous terms, your griefs, since that
Your question's with your equall, who professes
To clear his own way, with the mind and Sword
Of a true Gentleman.

_Pal._ That tho[u] durst _Arcite_.

_Arc._ My Coz, my Coz, you have been well advertis'd
How much I dare, y'ave seen me use my Sword
Against th' advice of fear: sure of another
You would not hear me doubted, but your silence
Should break out, though i'th' Sanctuary.

_Pal._ Sir,
I have seen you move in such a place, which well
Might justifie your manhood, you were call'd
A good knight and a bold; But the whole week's not fair
If any day it rayn: Their valiant temper
Men loose when they encline to trecherie,
And then they fight like coupel'd Beeres, would fly
Were they not ty'd.

_Arc._ Kinsman, you might as well
Speak this, and act it in your Glass, as to
His ear, which now disdains you.

_Pal._ Come up to me,
Quit me of these cold Gyves, give me a Sword
Though it be rustie, and the charity
Of one meal lend me; Come before me then,
A good Sword in thy hand, and doe but say
That _Emily_ is thine, I will forgive
The trespass thou hast done [me, yea] my life
If then thou carry't, and brave souls in shades
That have di'd manly, which will seek of me
Some news from earth, they shall get none but this,
That thou art brave, and noble.

_Arc._ Be content,
Again betake you to your hawthorn house,
With counsel of the night, I will be here
With wholesome viands; these impediments
Will I file off, you shall have garments, and
Perfumes to kill the smell o'th' prison, after
When you shall stretch your self, and say but _Arcite_
[I am] in plight, there shall be at your choice
Both Sword, and Armor.

_Pal._ Oh you heavens, dare any
So noble bear a guilty business! none
But only _Arcite_, therefore none but _Arcite_
In this kind is so bold.

_Arc._ Sweet _Palamon_.

_Pal._ I doe embrace you, and your offer, for
Your offer do't I only, Sir your person
Without hypocrisy I may not wish [_Wind horns of Cornets._
More than my Swords edge ont.

_Arc._ You hear the Horns;
Enter your Musick least this match between's
Be crost e'r met, give me your hand, farewell.
I'll bring you every needfull thing: I pray you
Take comfort and be strong.

_Pal._ Pray hold your promise;
And doe the deed with a bent brow, most certain
You love me not, be rough with me, and pour
This oil o[u]t of your language; by this ayr
I could for each word, give a Cuff: my stomach
Not reconcil'd by reason.

_Arc._ Plainly spoken,
Yet pardon me hard language, when I spur [_Wind horns._
My horse, I chide him not; content, and anger
In me have but one face. Hark Sir, they call
The scatter'd to the Banket; you must guess
I have an office there.

_Pal._ Sir your attendance
Cannot please heaven, and I know your office
Unjustly is atcheiv'd.

_Arc._ If a good title,
I'm persuaded this question sick between's,
By bleeding must be cur'd. I'm a Suitor,
That to your Sword you will bequeath this plea,
And talk of it no more.

_Pal._ But this one word:
You are going now to gaze upon my Mistris,
For note you, mine she is.

_Arc._ Nay then.

_Pal._ Nay pray you,
You talk of feeding me to breed me strength
You are going now to look upon a Sun
That strengthens what it looks on, there
You have a vantage o'er me, but enjoy't till
I may enforce my remedy. Farewell. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter Jaylors daughter alone._

_Daugh._ He has mistook; the Beak I meant, is gone
After his fancy, 'Tis now welnigh morning,
No matter, would it were perpetuall night,
And darkness Lord o'th' world, Hark 'tis a wolf:
In me hath grief slain fear, and but for one thing
I care for nothing, and that's _Palamon_.
I wreak not if the wolves would jaw me, so
He had this Fi[l]e; what if I hollow'd for him?
I cannot hollow: if I whoop'd; what then?
If he not answer'd, I should call a wolf,
And doe him but that service. I have heard
Strange howls this live-long night, why may't not be
They have made prey of him? he has no weapons,
He cannot run, the Jengling of his Gives
Might call fell things to listen, who have in them
A sence to know a man unarm'd, and can
Smell where resistance is. I'll set it down
He's torn to peeces, they howl'd many together
And then they fed on him: So much for that,
Be bold to ring the Bell; How stand I then?
All's char'd when he is gone, No, no I lye,
My Father's to be hang'd for his escape,
My self to beg, if I priz'd life so much
As to deny my act, but that I would not,
Should I try death by dussons: I am mop't,
Food took I non[e] these two daies.
Sipt some water, I have not clos'd mine eyes
Save when my lids scowrd off their bine; alas
Dissolve my life, Let not my sence unsettle
Least I should drown, or stab or hang my self.
O state of Nature, fail together in me,
Since thy best props are warpt: So which way now?
The best way is, the next way to a grave:
Each errant step beside is torment. Loe
The Moon is down, the Cr'ckets chirpe, the Schreich-owl
Calls in the dawn; all offices are done
Save what I fail in: But the point is this
An end, and that is all. [_Exit._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter Arcite, with Meat, Wine, and Files._

_Arc._ I should be near the place, hoa. Cosen _Palamon_.

_Enter Palamon._

_Pal. Arcite?_

_Arc._ The same: I have brought you food and files,
Come forth and fear not, here's no _Theseus_.

_Pal._ Nor none so honest _Arcite_.

_Arc._ That's no matter,
We'll argue that hereafter: Come take courage,
You shall not dye thus beastly, here Sir drink:
I know you're faint, then I'll talk further with you.

_Pal. Arcite_, thou mightst now poyson me.

_Arc._ I might.
But I must fear you first: Sit down, and good now
No more of these vain parlies; let us not
Having our ancient reputation with us
Make talk for Fools, and Cowards, To your health. &c.

_Pal._ Doe.

_Arc._ Pray sit dow[n] then, and let me entreat you
By all the honesty and honor in you,
No mention of this woman, 't will disturb us,
We shall have time enough.

_Pal._ Well Sir, I'll pledge you.

_Arc._ Drinke a good hearty draught, it breeds good blood man.
Doe not you feel it thaw you?

_Pal._ Stay, I'll tell you after a draught or two more.

_Arc._ Spare it not, the Duke has more Cuz: Eat now.

_Pal._ Yes.

_Arc._ [I am] glad you have so good a stomach.

_Pal._ [I am] gladder I have so good meat to't.

_Arc._ Is't not mad lodging here in the wild woods Cosen?

_Pal._ Yes, for them that have wild Consciences.

_Arc._ How tasts your victuals? your hunger needs no sawce I see.

_Pal._ Not much.
But if it did, yours is too tart: sweet Cosen: what is this?

_Arc._ Venison.

_Pal._ 'Tis a lusty meat:
Give me more wine; here _Arcite_ to the wenches
We have known in our daies. The Lord Stewards daughter.
Doe you remember her?

_Arc._ After you Cuz.

_Pal._ She lov'd a black-hair'd man.

_Arc._ She did so; well Sir.

_Pal._ And I have heard some call him _Arcite_; an.

_Arc._ Out with't faith.

_Pal._ She met him in an Arbor:
What did she there Cuz? play o'the virginals?

_Arc._ Something she did Sir.

_Pal._ Made her groan a Month for't; or 2. or 3. or 10.

_Arc._ The Marshals Sister,
Had her share too, as I remember Cosen,
Else there be tales abroad, you'll pledge her?

_Pal._ Yes.

_Arc._ A pretty brown wench 'tis: There was a time
When young men went a hunting, and a wood,
And a broad beech: and thereby hangs a tale: heigh ho.

_Pal._ For _Emily_, upon my life, fool
A way with this strain'd mirth; I say again
That sigh was breath'd for _Emily_; base Cosen,
Dar'st thou break first?

_Arc._ You are wide.

_Pal._ By heaven and earth, there's nothing in thee honest.

_Arc._ Then I'll leave you: you are a Beast now:

_Pal._ As thou mak'st me, Traytor.

_Arc._ There's all things needfull, files and shirts, and perfumes.
I'll come again some two hours hence, and bring
That that shall quiet all.

_Pal._ A Sword and Armor.

_Arc._ Fear me not; you are now too fowl; farewell.
Get off your Trinkets, you shall want nought.

_Pal._ Sir ha:

_Arc._ I'll here no more. [_Exit._

_Pal._ If he keep touch, he dies for't. [_Exit._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter Jaylors daughter._

_Daugh._ I am very cold, and all the Stars are out too,
The little Stars, and all, that look like aglets:
The Sun has seen my Folly: _Palamon_;
Alas no; he's in heaven; where am I now?
Yonder's the sea, and there's a Ship; how't tumbles
And there's a Rock lies watching under water;
Now, now, it beats upon it; now, now, now,
There's a leak sprung, a sound one, how they cry!
Upon her before the wind, you'll loose all els:
Up with a course or two, and tack about Boys.
Good night, good night, y'are gone; I'm very hungry,
Would I could find a fine Frog; he would tell me
News from all parts o'th' world, then would I make
A Careck of a Cockle-shell, and sayll
By East and North East to the King of _Pigmies_,
For he tels fortunes rarely. Now my Father
Twenty to one is trust up in a trice
To morrow morning, I'll say never a word.

_Sing._

_For I'll cut my green coat, afoot above my knee,_
_And I'll clip my yellow locks; an inch below mine eie._
_hey, nonny, nonny, nonny._

_He's buy me a whit Cut, forth for to ride_
_And I'll goe seek him, throw the world that is so wide._
_hey nonny, nonny, nonny._

O for a prick now like a Nightingale, to put my brest
Against. I shall sleep like a Top else. [_Exit._

_Scæna_ [5].

_Enter a Schoolmaster 4. Countrymen: and Baum._
_2. or 3., with a Taborer._