The Two Noble Kinsmen William Shakespeare Barbara A. Mowat Paul Werstine Edited for XML and encoded by Michael Poston Rebecca Niles Text released without textual notes Folger Shakespeare Library TNK
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Distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License July, 2016 The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts) William Shakespeare The Two Noble Kinsmen Barbara A. Mowat Paul Werstine New York Washington Square Press 2010 Adobe Digital Edition The most current version of the text

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 English French Italian Latin Spanish Prologue the two noble kinsmen, cousins,nephews of Creon, King of Thebes Arcite male Palamon male Theseus

Duke of Athens

 male Hippolyta

Queen of the Amazons, later Duchess of Athens

 female Emilia

her sister

 female Pirithous

friend to Theseus

 male

Three Queens, widows of the kings killed in laying siege to Thebes

 The Jailer of Theseus’s prison male The Jailer’s Daughter female The Jailer’s Brother male The Wooer of the Jailer’s daughter male

Two Friends of the Jailer

 A Doctor male Artesius

an Athenian soldier

 male Valerius

a Theban

 male Woman

attending on Emilia

 female An Athenian Gentleman male

Six Knights, three accompanying Arcite, three Palamon

Six Countrymen, one dressed as a Bavian or baboon

 A Schoolmaster male Nell

a countrywoman

 female A Taborer male A singing Boy, a Herald, Messengers, a Servant Epilogue Hymen (god of weddings), lords, soldiers, four countrywomen (Fritz, Maudlin, Luce, and Barbary), nymphs, attendants, maids, executioner, guard Version 0.9.2.1 released. Minor correction to #FromTheDirector. Version 0.9.2 released Identified turnunders (verse lines split because they could not fit on the previous line in the print edition). Version 0.9.0 released.

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The Two Noble Kinsmen, derived from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, begins as Athens defeats Thebes in war. Arcite and Palamon, Theban knights and devoted cousins, are imprisoned in Athens. From their cell, they see Emilia, the sister-in-law of Theseus, Duke of Athens. Both fall in love with her, becoming bitter rivals.

Arcite is released but, for love of Emilia, stays in Athens at the risk of his life. The jailer’s daughter, who loves Palamon, helps him escape, but goes mad with anxiety. Her original wooer cures her by courting her while pretending to be Palamon.

Arcite encounters Palamon and challenges him to formal combat for Emilia. Theseus discovers them before they duel. He first sentences both to death, but then establishes a contest in which each will participate with Theban comrades. The loser and his knights will die. The winner will wed Emilia.

Arcite prays to Mars for victory; Palamon, to Venus for Emilia’s love. Both prayers are answered. Arcite wins, but dies after a riding accident. Palamon, spared from execution, marries Emilia.

 Flourish . Enter Prologue . PROLOGUE New plays and maidenheads are near akin : Much followed both , for both much money giv’n , If they stand sound and well . And a good play , Whose modest scenes blush on his marriage day And shake to lose his honor , is like her That after holy tie and first night’s stir Yet still is modesty , and still retains More of the maid , to sight , than husband’s pains . We pray our play may be so , for I am sure It has a noble breeder and a pure , A learnèd , and a poet never went More famous yet ’twixt Po and silver Trent . Chaucer , of all admired , the story gives ; There , constant to eternity , it lives . If we let fall the nobleness of this , And the first sound this child hear be a hiss , How will it shake the bones of that good man And make him cry from underground O , fan From me the witless chaff of such a writer That blasts my bays and my famed works makes lighter Than Robin Hood ! This is the fear we bring ; For , to say truth , it were an endless thing And too ambitious , to aspire to him , Weak as we are , and , almost breathless , swim In this deep water . Do but you hold out Your helping hands , and we shall tack about And something do to save us . You shall hear Scenes , though below his art , may yet appear Worth two hours’ travel . To his bones sweet sleep ; PROLOGUE Content to you . If this play do not keep A little dull time from us , we perceive Our losses fall so thick we must needs leave . Flourish . He exits . ACT 1 Scene 1 Music . Enter Hymen with a torch burning , a Boy in a white robe before , singing and strewing flowers . After Hymen , a Nymph encompassed in her tresses , bearing a wheaten garland ; then Theseus between two other Nymphs with wheaten chaplets on their heads . Then Hippolyta , the bride , led by Pirithous , and another holding a garland over her head , her tresses likewise hanging . After her , Emilia , holding up her train . Then Artesius and Attendants . Roses , their sharp spines being gone , Not royal in their smells alone , But in their hue ; Maiden pinks , of odor faint , Daisies smell-less , yet most quaint , And sweet thyme true ; Primrose , firstborn child of Ver , Merry springtime’s harbinger , With her bells dim ; Oxlips in their cradles growing , Marigolds on deathbeds blowing , Lark’s-heels trim ; All dear Nature’s children sweet Lie ’fore bride and bridegroom’s feet , Strew flowers . ACT 1. SC. 1 Blessing their sense . Not an angel of the air , Bird melodious or bird fair , Is absent hence . The crow , the sland’rous cuckoo , nor The boding raven , nor chough hoar , Nor chatt’ring pie , May on our bridehouse perch or sing , Or with them any discord bring , But from it fly . Enter three Queens in black , with veils stained , with imperial crowns . The first Queen falls down at the foot of Theseus ; the second falls down at the foot of Hippolyta ; the third before Emilia . FIRST QUEEN , to Theseus For pity’s sake and true gentility’s , Hear and respect me . SECOND QUEEN , to Hippolyta For your mother’s sake , And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair ones , Hear and respect me . THIRD QUEEN , to Emilia Now for the love of him whom Jove hath marked The honor of your bed , and for the sake Of clear virginity , be advocate For us and our distresses . This good deed Shall raze you out o’ th’ book of trespasses All you are set down there . THESEUS , to First Queen Sad lady , rise . HIPPOLYTA , to Second Queen Stand up . EMILIA , to Third Queen No knees to me . What woman I may stead that is distressed Does bind me to her . ACT 1. SC. 1 THESEUS , to First Queen What’s your request ? Deliver you for all . FIRST QUEEN We are three queens whose sovereigns fell before The wrath of cruel Creon ; who endured The beaks of ravens , talons of the kites , And pecks of crows in the foul fields of Thebes . He will not suffer us to burn their bones , To urn their ashes , nor to take th’ offense Of mortal loathsomeness from the blest eye Of holy Phoebus , but infects the winds With stench of our slain lords . O , pity , duke ! Thou purger of the Earth earth , draw thy feared sword That does good turns to th’ world ; give us the bones Of our dead kings , that we may chapel them ; And of thy boundless goodness take some note That for our crownèd heads we have no roof Save this , which is the lion’s and the bear’s , And vault to everything . THESEUS Pray you , kneel not . I was transported with your speech and suffered Your knees to wrong themselves . I have heard the fortunes Of your dead lords , which gives me such lamenting As wakes my vengeance and revenge for ’em . King Capaneus was your lord . The day That he should marry you , at such a season As now it is with me , I met your groom By Mars’s altar . You were that time fair — Not Juno’s mantle fairer than your tresses , Nor in more bounty spread her . Your wheaten wreath Was then nor threshed nor blasted . Fortune at you Dimpled her cheek with smiles . Hercules , our kinsman , Then weaker than your eyes , laid by his club ; ACT 1. SC. 1 He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide And swore his sinews thawed . O grief and time , Fearful consumers , you will all devour ! FIRST QUEEN O , I hope some god , Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood , Whereto he’ll infuse power , and press you forth Our undertaker . THESEUS O , no knees , none , widow ! Unto the helmeted Bellona use them And pray for me , your soldier . The First Queen rises . Troubled I am . Turns away . SECOND QUEEN Honored Hippolyta , Most dreaded Amazonian , that hast slain The scythe-tusked boar ; that with thy arm , as strong As it is white , wast near to make the male To thy sex captive , but that this thy lord , Born to uphold creation in that honor First nature styled it in , shrunk thee into The bound thou wast o’erflowing , at once subduing Thy force and thy affection ; soldieress That equally canst poise sternness with pity , Whom now I know hast much more power on him Than ever he had on thee , who ow’st his strength And his love too , who is a servant for The tenor of thy speech , dear glass of ladies , Bid him that we , whom flaming war doth scorch , Under the shadow of his sword may cool us ; Require him he advance it o’er our heads ; Speak ’t in a woman’s key , like such a woman As any of us three ; weep ere you fail . Lend us a knee ; But touch the ground for us no longer time Than a dove’s motion when the head’s plucked off . Tell him if he i’ th’ blood-sized field lay swoll’n , Showing the sun his teeth , grinning at the moon , What you would do . ACT 1. SC. 1 HIPPOLYTA Poor lady , say no more . I had as lief trace this good action with you As that whereto I am going , and never yet Went I so willing way . My lord is taken Heart-deep with your distress ; let him consider . I’ll speak anon . Second Queen rises . THIRD QUEEN O , my petition was Set down in ice , which by hot grief uncandied Melts into drops ; so sorrow , wanting form , Is pressed with deeper matter . EMILIA Pray stand up . Your grief is written in your cheek . THIRD QUEEN O , woe ! You cannot read it there . She rises . There through my tears , Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream , You may behold ’em . Lady , lady , alack ! He that will all the treasure know o’ th’ Earth earth Must know the center too ; he that will fish For my least minnow , let him lead his line To catch one at my heart . O , pardon me ! Extremity , that sharpens sundry wits , Makes me a fool . EMILIA Pray you say nothing , pray you . Who cannot feel nor see the rain , being in ’t , Knows neither wet nor dry . If that you were The groundpiece of some painter , I would buy you T’ instruct me ’gainst a capital grief — indeed , Such heart-pierced demonstration . But , alas , Being a natural sister of our sex , Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me That it shall make a counter-reflect ’gainst My brother’s heart and warm it to some pity , Though it were made of stone . Pray have good comfort . ACT 1. SC. 1 THESEUS , coming forward Forward to th’ temple . Leave not out a jot O’ th’ sacred ceremony . FIRST QUEEN O , this celebration Will longer last and be more costly than Your suppliants’ war . Remember that your fame Knolls in the ear o’ th’ world ; what you do quickly Is not done rashly ; your first thought is more Than others’ labored meditance , your premeditating More than their actions . But , O Jove , your actions , Soon as they move , as ospreys do the fish , Subdue before they touch . Think , dear duke , think What beds our slain kings have ! SECOND QUEEN What griefs our beds , That our dear lords have none ! THIRD QUEEN None fit for th’ dead . Those that with cords , knives , drams , precipitance , Weary of this world’s light , have to themselves Been death’s most horrid agents , human grace Affords them dust and shadow . FIRST QUEEN But our lords Lie blist’ring ’fore the visitating sun , And were good kings when living . THESEUS It is true , and I will give you comfort To give your dead lords graves ; The which to do must make some work with Creon . FIRST QUEEN And that work presents itself to th’ doing . Now ’twill take form ; the heats are gone tomorrow . Then , bootless toil must recompense itself With its own sweat . Now he’s secure , Not dreams we stand before your puissance , Rinsing our holy begging in our eyes To make petition clear . ACT 1. SC. 1 SECOND QUEEN Now you may take him , Drunk with his victory . THIRD QUEEN And his army full Of bread and sloth . THESEUS Artesius , that best knowest How to draw out , fit to this enterprise , The prim’st for this proceeding , and the number To carry such a business : forth and levy Our worthiest instruments , whilst we dispatch This grand act of our life , this daring deed Of fate in wedlock . FIRST QUEEN , to Second and Third Queens Dowagers , take hands . Let us be widows to our woes . Delay Commends us to a famishing hope . ALL THE QUEENS Farewell . SECOND QUEEN We come unseasonably ; but when could grief Cull forth , as unpanged judgment can , fitt’st time For best solicitation ? THESEUS Why , good ladies , This is a service whereto I am going Greater than any was ; it more imports me Than all the actions that I have foregone , Or futurely can cope . FIRST QUEEN The more proclaiming Our suit shall be neglected when her arms , Able to lock Jove from a synod , shall By warranting moonlight corselet thee . O , when Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall Upon thy tasteful lips , what wilt thou think Of rotten kings or blubbered queens ? What care For what thou feel’st not , what thou feel’st being able To make Mars spurn his drum ? O , if thou couch But one night with her , every hour in ’t will ACT 1. SC. 1 Take hostage of thee for a hundred , and Thou shalt remember nothing more than what That banquet bids thee to . HIPPOLYTA , to Theseus Though much unlike You should be so transported , as much sorry I should be such a suitor , yet I think Did I not , by th’ abstaining of my joy — Which breeds a deeper longing — cure their surfeit That craves a present med’cine , I should pluck All ladies’ scandal on me . She kneels . Therefore , sir , As I shall here make trial of my prayers , Either presuming them to have some force , Or sentencing for aye their vigor dumb , Prorogue this business we are going about , and hang Your shield afore your heart — about that neck Which is my fee , and which I freely lend To do these poor queens service . ALL QUEENS , to Emilia O , help now ! Our cause cries for your knee . EMILIA , to Theseus , kneeling If you grant not My sister her petition in that force , With that celerity and nature which She makes it in , from henceforth I’ll not dare To ask you anything , nor be so hardy Ever to take a husband . THESEUS Pray stand up . Hippolyta and Emilia rise . I am entreating of myself to do That which you kneel to have me . — Pirithous , Lead on the bride ; get you and pray the gods For success and return ; omit not anything In the pretended celebration . — Queens , Follow your soldier . To Artesius . As before , hence you , ACT 1. SC. 1 And at the banks of Aulis meet us with The forces you can raise , where we shall find The moiety of a number for a business More bigger looked . Artesius exits . To Hippolyta . Since that our theme is haste , I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip ; Sweet , keep it as my token . — Set you forward , For I will see you gone . The wedding procession begins to exit towards the temple . Farewell , my beauteous sister . — Pirithous , Keep the feast full ; bate not an hour on ’t . PIRITHOUS Sir , I’ll follow you at heels . The feast’s solemnity Shall want till your return . THESEUS Cousin , I charge you , Budge not from Athens . We shall be returning Ere you can end this feast , of which I pray you Make no abatement . — Once more , farewell all . All but Theseus and the Queens exit . FIRST QUEEN Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o’ th’ world . SECOND QUEEN And earn’st a deity equal with Mars . THIRD QUEEN If not above him , for Thou , being but mortal , makest affections bend To godlike honors ; they themselves , some say , Groan under such a mast’ry . THESEUS As we are men , Thus should we do ; being sensually subdued , We lose our human title . Good cheer , ladies . Now turn we towards your comforts . Flourish . They exit . ACT 1. SC. 2 Scene 2 Enter Palamon and Arcite . ARCITE Dear Palamon , dearer in love than blood And our prime cousin , yet unhardened in The crimes of nature , let us leave the city Thebes , and the temptings in ’t , before we further Sully our gloss of youth , And here to keep in abstinence we shame As in incontinence ; for not to swim I’ th’ aid o’ th’ current were almost to sink , At least to frustrate striving ; and to follow The common stream , ’twould bring us to an eddy Where we should turn or drown ; if labor through , Our gain but life and weakness . PALAMON Your advice Is cried up with example . What strange ruins , Since first we went to school , may we perceive Walking in Thebes ! Scars and bare weeds The gain o’ th’ martialist , who did propound To his bold ends honor and golden ingots , Which though he won , he had not , and now flirted By peace for whom he fought . Who then shall offer To Mars’s so-scorned altar ? I do bleed When such I meet , and wish great Juno would Resume her ancient fit of jealousy To get the soldier work , that peace might purge For her repletion , and retain anew Her charitable heart , now hard and harsher Than strife or war could be . ARCITE Are you not out ? Meet you no ruin but the soldier in The cranks and turns of Thebes ? You did begin As if you met decays of many kinds . ACT 1. SC. 2 Perceive you none that do arouse your pity But th’ unconsidered soldier ? PALAMON Yes , I pity Decays where’er I find them , but such most That , sweating in an honorable toil , Are paid with ice to cool ’em . ARCITE ’Tis not this I did begin to speak of . This is virtue Of no respect in Thebes . I spake of Thebes — How dangerous , if we will keep our honors , It is for our residing , where every evil Hath a good color ; where every seeming good’s A certain evil ; where not to be e’en jump As they are here were to be strangers , and , Such things to be , mere monsters . PALAMON ’Tis in our power — Unless we fear that apes can tutor ’s — to Be masters of our manners . What need I Affect another’s gait , which is not catching Where there is faith ? Or to be fond upon Another’s way of speech , when by mine own I may be reasonably conceived — saved too , Speaking it truly ? Why am I bound By any generous bond to follow him Follows his tailor , haply so long until The followed make pursuit ? Or let me know Why mine own barber is unblessed , with him My poor chin too , for ’tis not scissored just To such a favorite’s glass ? What canon is there That does command my rapier from my hip To dangle ’t in my hand , or to go tiptoe Before the street be foul ? Either I am The forehorse in the team , or I am none That draw i’ th’ sequent trace . These poor slight sores ACT 1. SC. 2 Need not a plantain . That which rips my bosom Almost to th’ heart’s — ARCITE Our Uncle Creon . PALAMON He . A most unbounded tyrant , whose successes Makes heaven unfeared and villainy assured Beyond its power there’s nothing ; almost puts Faith in a fever , and deifies alone Voluble chance ; who only attributes The faculties of other instruments To his own nerves and act ; commands men service , And what they win in ’t , boot and glory ; one That fears not to do harm ; good , dares not . Let The blood of mine that’s sib to him be sucked From me with leeches ; let them break and fall Off me with that corruption . ARCITE Clear-spirited cousin , Let’s leave his court , that we may nothing share Of his loud infamy ; for our milk Will relish of the pasture , and we must Be vile or disobedient , not his kinsmen In blood unless in quality . PALAMON Nothing truer . I think the echoes of his shames have deafed The ears of heav’nly justice . Widows’ cries Descend again into their throats and have not Due audience of the gods . Enter Valerius . Valerius . VALERIUS The King calls for you ; yet be leaden-footed Till his great rage be off him . Phoebus , when He broke his whipstock and exclaimed against The horses of the sun , but whispered to The loudness of his fury . ACT 1. SC. 2 PALAMON Small winds shake him . But what’s the matter ? VALERIUS Theseus , who where he threats appalls , hath sent Deadly defiance to him and pronounces Ruin to Thebes , who is at hand to seal The promise of his wrath . ARCITE 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 action’s dregged with mind assured ’Tis bad he goes about ? PALAMON Leave that unreasoned . Our services stand now for Thebes , 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 . ARCITE So we must . To Valerius . Is ’t said this war’s afoot ? Or , it shall be , On fail of some condition ? VALERIUS ’Tis in motion ; The intelligence of state came in the instant With the defier . PALAMON Let’s to the King , who , were he A quarter carrier of that honor which His enemy come in , the blood we venture Should be as for our health , which were not spent , Rather laid out for purchase . But alas , Our hands advanced before our hearts , what will The fall o’ th’ stroke do damage ? ARCITE Let th’ event , That never-erring arbitrator , tell us ACT 1. SC. 3 When we know all ourselves , and let us follow The becking of our chance . They exit . Scene 3 Enter Pirithous , Hippolyta , Emilia . PIRITHOUS No further . HIPPOLYTA Sir , farewell . Repeat my wishes To our great lord , of whose success I dare not Make any timorous question ; yet I wish him Excess and overflow of power , an ’t might be , To dure ill-dealing fortune . Speed to him . Store never hurts good governors . PIRITHOUS 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-tempered pieces keep enthroned In your dear heart ! EMILIA Thanks , sir . Remember me To our all-royal brother , for whose speed The great Bellona I’ll solicit ; and Since in our terrene state petitions are not Without gifts understood , I’ll offer to her What I shall be advised she likes . Our hearts Are in his army , in his tent . HIPPOLYTA In ’s bosom . We have been soldiers , and we cannot weep When our friends don their helms or put to sea , Or tell of babes broached on the lance , or women That have sod their infants in — and after ate them — The brine they wept at killing ’em . Then if ACT 1. SC. 3 You stay to see of us such spinsters , we Should hold you here forever . PIRITHOUS Peace be to you As I pursue this war , which shall be then Beyond further requiring . Pirithous exits . EMILIA How his longing Follows his friend ! Since his depart , his sports , Though craving seriousness and skill , passed slightly His careless execution , where nor gain Made him regard , or loss consider , but Playing one business in his hand , another Directing in his head , his mind nurse equal To these so diff’ring twins . Have you observed him Since our great lord departed ? HIPPOLYTA With much labor , And I did love him for ’t . They two have cabined In many as dangerous as poor a corner , Peril and want contending ; they have skiffed Torrents whose roaring tyranny and power I’ th’ least of these was dreadful , and they have Fought out together where Death’s self was lodged . Yet fate hath brought them off . Their knot of love , Tied , weaved , entangled , with so true , so long , And with a finger of so deep a cunning , May be outworn , 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 . EMILIA 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 enjoyed a playfellow ; You were at wars when she the grave enriched , Who made too proud the bed ; took leave o’ th’ moon , Which then looked pale at parting , when our count Was each eleven . ACT 1. SC. 3 HIPPOLYTA ’Twas Flavina . EMILIA Yes . You talk of Pirithous’ and Theseus’ love . Theirs has more ground , is more maturely seasoned , More buckled with strong judgment , 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 , Loved 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 liked Was then of me approved , what not , condemned , No more arraignment . The flower that I would pluck And put between my breasts — O , 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 , Phoenix-like , They died in perfume . On my head no toy But was her pattern ; her affections — pretty , Though haply hers careless were — I followed For my most serious decking . Had mine ear Stol’n some new air , or at adventure hummed one From musical coinage , 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 importment’s bastard — has this end , That the true love ’tween maid and maid may be More than in sex individual . HIPPOLYTA You’re out of breath , And this high-speeded pace is but to say That you shall never — like the maid Flavina — Love any that’s called man . EMILIA I am sure I shall not . ACT 1. SC. 4 HIPPOLYTA Now , alack , weak sister , I must no more believe thee in this point — Though in ’t I know thou dost believe thyself — Than I will trust a sickly appetite , That loathes even as it longs . But sure , my sister , If I were ripe for your persuasion , 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 Pirithous , possess The high throne in his heart . EMILIA I am not Against your faith , yet I continue mine . They exit . Scene 4 Cornets . A battle struck within ; then a retreat . Flourish . Then enter , through one door , Theseus , victor , accompanied by Lords and Soldiers . Entering through another door , the three Queens meet him , and fall on their faces before him . FIRST QUEEN To thee no star be dark ! SECOND QUEEN Both heaven and Earth earth Friend thee forever . THIRD QUEEN All the good that may Be wished upon thy head , I cry Amen to ’t ! THESEUS Th’ impartial gods , who from the mounted heavens View us their mortal herd , behold who err And , in their time , chastise . Go and find out The bones of your dead lords and honor them With treble ceremony ; rather than a gap Should be in their dear rites , we would supply ’t ; ACT 1. SC. 4 But those we will depute which shall invest You in your dignities and even each thing Our haste does leave imperfect . So , adieu , And heaven’s good eyes look on you . Queens exit . Enter a Herald and Soldiers bearing Palamon and Arcite on biers . What are those ? HERALD Men of great quality , as may be judged By their appointment . Some of Thebes have told ’s They are sisters’ children , nephews to the King . THESEUS By th’ helm of Mars , I saw them in the war , Like to a pair of lions , smeared with prey , Make lanes in troops aghast . I fixed my note Constantly on them , for they were a mark Worth a god’s view . What prisoner was ’t that told me When I enquired their names ? HERALD Wi’ leave , they’re called Arcite and Palamon . THESEUS ’Tis right ; those , those . They are not dead ? HERALD Nor in a state of life . Had they been taken When their last hurts were given , ’twas possible They might have been recovered . Yet they breathe And have the name of men . THESEUS 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 balms , Rather than niggard , waste . Their lives concern us Much more than Thebes is worth . Rather than have ’em ACT 1. SC. 5 Freed of this plight , and in their morning state , Sound and at liberty , I would ’em dead . But forty-thousandfold 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’ behests , Love’s provocations , zeal , a mistress’ task , Desire of liberty , a fever , madness , Hath set a mark which nature could not reach to Without some imposition , sickness in will O’er-wrestling strength in reason . For our love And great Apollo’s mercy , all our best Their best skill tender . — Lead into the city , Where , having bound things scattered , we will post To Athens ’fore our army . Flourish . They exit . Scene 5 Music . Enter the Queens with the hearses of their knights , in a funeral solemnity , &c . Urns and odors bring away ; Vapors , sighs , darken the day ; Our dole more deadly looks than dying ; Balms and gums and heavy cheers , Sacred vials filled with tears , And clamors through the wild air flying . Come , all sad and solemn shows That are quick-eyed Pleasure’s foes ; We convent naught else but woes . We convent naught else but woes . ACT 1. SC. 5 THIRD QUEEN , to Second Queen This funeral path brings to your household’s grave . Joy seize on you again ; peace sleep with him . SECOND QUEEN , to First Queen And this to yours . FIRST QUEEN , to Third Queen Yours this way . Heavens lend A thousand differing ways to one sure end . THIRD QUEEN This world’s a city full of straying streets , And death’s the market-place where each one meets . They exit severally . ACT 2 Scene 1 Enter Jailer and Wooer . JAILER 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 lined than it can appear to me report is a true speaker . I would I were really that I am delivered 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 . JAILER Well , we will talk more of this when the solemnity is past . But have you a full promise of her ? When that shall be seen , I tender my consent . Enter the Jailer’s Daughter , carrying rushes . WOOER I have sir . Here she comes . JAILER , to Daughter 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’ meantime , ACT 2. SC. 1 look tenderly to the two prisoners . I can tell you they are princes . DAUGHTER 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 ashamed . The prison itself is proud of ’em , and they have all the world in their chamber . JAILER They are famed to be a pair of absolute men . DAUGHTER By my troth , I think fame but stammers ’em . They stand a grise above the reach of report . JAILER I heard them reported in the battle to be the only doers . DAUGHTER Nay , most likely , for they are noble suff’rers . I marvel how they would have looked 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 . JAILER Do they so ? DAUGHTER It seems to me they have no more sense 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 sometimes a divided sigh , martyred 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 myself a sigh to be so chid , or at least a sigher to be comforted . WOOER I never saw ’em . JAILER The Duke himself came privately in the night , and so did they . Enter Palamon and Arcite , in shackles , above . What the reason of it is , I know not . Look , yonder they are ; that’s Arcite looks out . DAUGHTER No , sir , no , that’s Palamon . Arcite is the ACT 2. SC. 2 lower of the twain ; you may perceive a part of him . JAILER Go to , leave your pointing ; they would not make us their object . Out of their sight . DAUGHTER It is a holiday to look on them . Lord , the diff’rence of men ! Jailer , Daughter , and Wooer exit . Scene 2 Palamon and Arcite remain , above . PALAMON How do you , noble cousin ? ARCITE How do you , sir ? PALAMON Why , strong enough to laugh at misery And bear the chance of war ; yet we are prisoners I fear forever , cousin . ARCITE I believe it , And to that destiny have patiently Laid up my hour to come . PALAMON O , cousin Arcite , Where is Thebes now ? Where is our noble country ? 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 favors of their ladies , Like tall ships under sail ; then start amongst ’em And as an east wind leave ’em all behind us , Like lazy clouds , whilst Palamon and Arcite , Even in the wagging of a wanton leg , Outstripped the people’s praises , won the garlands Ere they have time to wish ’em ours . O , never Shall we two exercise , like twins of honor , Our arms again , and feel our fiery horses ACT 2. SC. 2 Like proud seas under us . Our good swords now — Better the red-eyed god of war ne’er wore — Ravished 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 lightning 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 , armed with thousand Cupids , Shall never clasp our necks ; no issue know us — No figures of ourselves shall we e’er 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-eyed 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 tells 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 . PALAMON ’Tis too true , Arcite . To our Theban hounds That shook the agèd forest with their echoes No more now must we halloo ; no more shake Our pointed javelins whilst the angry swine Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages , Struck with our well-steeled darts . All valiant uses , The food and nourishment of noble minds , In us two here shall perish ; we shall die , ACT 2. SC. 2 Which is the curse of honor , lastly , Children of grief and ignorance . ARCITE Yet , cousin , Even from the bottom of these miseries , From all that fortune can inflict upon us , I see two comforts rising , two mere 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 ! PALAMON Certainly ’Tis a main goodness , cousin , that our fortunes Were twined together . ’Tis most true , two souls Put in two noble bodies , let ’em suffer The gall of hazard , so they grow together , Will never sink ; they must not , say they could . A willing man dies sleeping and all’s done . ARCITE Shall we make worthy uses of this place That all men hate so much ? PALAMON How , gentle cousin ? ARCITE Let’s think this prison holy sanctuary To keep us from corruption of worse men . We are young and yet desire the ways of honor That liberty and common conversation , The poison of pure spirits , might like women Woo 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 another’s 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 ACT 2. SC. 2 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 , cousin , 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 . PALAMON You have made me — I thank you , cousin Arcite — almost wanton With my captivity . What a misery It is to live abroad and everywhere ! ’Tis like a beast , methinks . I find the court here , I am sure , a more content ; and all those pleasures That woo 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 ? Cousin Arcite , Had not the loving gods found this place for us , We had died as they do , ill old men , unwept , And had their epitaphs , the people’s curses . Shall I say more ? ARCITE I would hear you still . PALAMON You shall . Is there record of any two that loved Better than we do , Arcite ? ARCITE Sure there cannot . ACT 2. SC. 2 PALAMON I do not think it possible our friendship Should ever leave us . ARCITE Till our deaths it cannot . Enter Emilia and her Woman , below . And after death our spirits shall be led To those that love eternally . Palamon catches sight of Emilia . Speak on , sir . EMILIA , to her Woman This garden has a world of pleasures in ’t . What flower is this ? WOMAN ’Tis called narcissus , madam . EMILIA That was a fair boy certain , but a fool To love himself . Were there not maids enough ? ARCITE , to Palamon , who is stunned by the sight of Emilia Pray , forward . PALAMON Yes . EMILIA , to Woman Or were they all hard-hearted ? WOMAN They could not be to one so fair . EMILIA Thou wouldst not . WOMAN I think I should not , madam . EMILIA That’s a good wench . But take heed to your kindness , though . WOMAN Why , madam ? EMILIA Men are mad things . ARCITE , to Palamon Will you go forward , cousin ? EMILIA , to Woman Canst not thou work such flowers in silk , wench ? WOMAN Yes . ACT 2. SC. 2 EMILIA I’ll have a gown full of ’em , and of these . This is pretty color . Will ’t not do Rarely upon a skirt , wench ? WOMAN Dainty , madam . ARCITE , to Palamon Cousin , cousin ! How do you , sir ? Why , Palamon ! PALAMON Never till now I was in prison , Arcite . ARCITE Why , what’s the matter , man ? PALAMON Behold , and wonder ! By heaven , she is a goddess . ARCITE , seeing Emilia Ha ! PALAMON Do reverence . She is a goddess , Arcite . EMILIA , to Woman Of all flowers Methinks a rose is best . WOMAN Why , gentle madam ? EMILIA 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 . WOMAN Yet , good madam , Sometimes her modesty will blow so far She falls for ’t . A maid , If she have any honor , would be loath To take example by her . EMILIA Thou art wanton ! ARCITE , to Palamon She is wondrous fair . ACT 2. SC. 2 PALAMON She is all the beauty extant . EMILIA , to Woman The sun grows high . Let’s walk in . Keep these flowers . We’ll see how near art can come near their colors . I am wondrous merry-hearted . I could laugh now . WOMAN I could lie down , I am sure . EMILIA And take one with you ? WOMAN That’s as we bargain , madam . EMILIA Well , agree then . Emilia and Woman exit . PALAMON What think you of this beauty ? ARCITE ’Tis a rare one . PALAMON Is ’t but a rare one ? ARCITE Yes , a matchless beauty . PALAMON Might not a man well lose himself and love her ? ARCITE I cannot tell what you have done ; I have , Beshrew mine eyes for ’t ! Now I feel my shackles . PALAMON You love her , then ? ARCITE Who would not ? PALAMON And desire her ? ARCITE Before my liberty . PALAMON I saw her first . ARCITE That’s nothing . PALAMON But it shall be . ARCITE I saw her , too . PALAMON Yes , but you must not love her . ACT 2. SC. 2 ARCITE I will not , as you do , to worship her As she is heavenly and a blessèd goddess . I love her as a woman , to enjoy her . So both may love . PALAMON You shall not love at all . ARCITE Not love at all ! Who shall deny me ? PALAMON I , that first saw her ; I that took possession First with mine eye of all those beauties In her revealed 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 , blood , And all the ties between us I disclaim If thou once think upon her . ARCITE 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 you , farewell , 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 man’s son . PALAMON Have I called thee friend ? ARCITE Yes , and have found me so . Why are you moved 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 . PALAMON Yes . ACT 2. SC. 2 ARCITE Am not I liable to those affections , Those joys , griefs , angers , fears , my friend shall suffer ? PALAMON You may be . ARCITE 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 ? PALAMON No , but unjust If thou pursue that sight . ARCITE Because another First sees the enemy , shall I stand still And let mine honor down , and never charge ? PALAMON Yes , if he be but one . ARCITE But say that one Had rather combat me ? PALAMON Let that one say so , And use thy freedom . Else , if thou pursuest her , Be as that cursèd man that hates his country , A branded villain . ARCITE You are mad . PALAMON 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 . ARCITE Fie , sir ! You play the child extremely . I will love her ; I must , I ought to do so , and I dare , And all this justly . PALAMON O , that now , that now , Thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune To be one hour at liberty , and grasp Our good swords in our hands , I would quickly teach thee ACT 2. SC. 2 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 . ARCITE 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 , And pitch between her arms to anger thee . Enter Jailer , above . PALAMON No more ; the keeper’s coming . I shall live To knock thy brains out with my shackles . ARCITE Do ! JAILER By your leave , gentlemen . PALAMON Now , honest keeper ? JAILER Lord Arcite , you must presently to th’ Duke ; The cause I know not yet . ARCITE I am ready , keeper . JAILER Prince Palamon , I must awhile bereave you Of your fair cousin’s company . Arcite and Jailer exit . PALAMON 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 blood and body . But his falsehood ! 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 . Blessèd garden ACT 2. SC. 2 And fruit and flowers more blessèd that still blossom As her bright eyes shine on you , 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 Jailer , above . And then I am sure she would love me . — How now , keeper , Where’s Arcite ? JAILER Banished . Prince Pirithous Obtained his liberty , but never more Upon his oath and life must he set foot Upon this kingdom . PALAMON He’s a blessèd 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 battle 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 . JAILER My lord , for you I have this charge to — PALAMON To discharge my life ? ACT 2. SC. 2 JAILER No , but from this place to remove your Lordship ; The windows are too open . PALAMON Devils take ’em That are so envious to me ! Prithee , kill me . JAILER And hang for ’t afterward ! PALAMON By this good light , Had I a sword I would kill thee . JAILER Why , my lord ? PALAMON Thou bringst such pelting , scurvy news continually , Thou art not worthy life . I will not go . JAILER Indeed you must , my lord . PALAMON May I see the garden ? JAILER No . PALAMON Then I am resolved , I will not go . JAILER I must constrain you then ; and , for you are dangerous , I’ll clap more irons on you . PALAMON Do , good keeper . I’ll shake ’em so , you shall not sleep ; I’ll make you a new morris . Must I go ? JAILER There is no remedy . PALAMON Farewell , kind window . May rude wind never hurt thee . O , my lady , If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was , Dream how I suffer . — Come ; now bury me . Palamon and Jailer exit . ACT 2. SC. 3 Scene 3 Enter Arcite . ARCITE Banished the kingdom ? ’Tis a benefit , A mercy I must thank ’em for ; but banished The free enjoying of that face I die for , O , ’twas a studied 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 ne’er exceeded nor ne’er 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 am resolved another shape shall make me Or end my fortunes . Either way I am happy . I’ll see her and be near her , or no more . Enter four Country people , and one with a garland before them . Arcite steps aside . FIRST COUNTRYMAN My masters , I’ll be there , that’s certain . SECOND COUNTRYMAN And I’ll be there . ACT 2. SC. 3 THIRD COUNTRYMAN And I . FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Why , then , have with you , boys . ’Tis but a chiding . Let the plough play today ; I’ll tickle ’t out of the jades’ tails tomorrow . FIRST COUNTRYMAN I am sure to have my wife as jealous as a turkey , but that’s all one . I’ll go through ; let her mumble . SECOND COUNTRYMAN Clap her aboard tomorrow night and stow her , and all’s made up again . THIRD COUNTRYMAN Ay , do but put a fescue in her fist and you shall see her take a new lesson out and be a good wench . Do we all hold against the Maying ? FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Hold ? What should ail us ? THIRD COUNTRYMAN Arcas will be there . SECOND COUNTRYMAN And Sennois and Rycas ; and three better lads ne’er danced under green tree . And you know what wenches , ha ! But will the dainty domine , the Schoolmaster , keep touch , do you think ? For he does all , you know . THIRD COUNTRYMAN He’ll eat a hornbook ere he fail . Go to , the matter’s too far driven between him and the tanner’s daughter to let slip now ; and she must see the Duke , and she must dance too . FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Shall we be lusty ? SECOND COUNTRYMAN 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 , hey for the weavers ! FIRST COUNTRYMAN This must be done i’ th’ woods . FOURTH COUNTRYMAN O pardon me . SECOND COUNTRYMAN By any means ; our thing of learning says so — where he himself will edify the Duke most parlously in our behalfs . He’s excellent i’ th’ woods ; bring him to th’ plains , his learning makes no cry . ACT 2. SC. 3 THIRD COUNTRYMAN We’ll see the sports , then every man to ’s tackle . And , sweet companions , let’s rehearse , by any means , before the ladies see us , and do sweetly , and God knows what may come on ’t . FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Content . The sports once ended , we’ll perform . Away , boys , and hold . Arcite comes forward . ARCITE By your leaves , honest friends : pray you , whither go you ? FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Whither ? Why , what a question’s that ? ARCITE Yes , ’tis a question To me that know not . THIRD COUNTRYMAN To the games , my friend . SECOND COUNTRYMAN Where were you bred , you know it not ? ARCITE Not far , sir . Are there such games today ? FIRST COUNTRYMAN Yes , marry , are there , And such as you never saw . The Duke himself Will be in person there . ARCITE What pastimes are they ? SECOND COUNTRYMAN Wrestling and running . — ’Tis a pretty fellow . THIRD COUNTRYMAN Thou wilt not go along ? ARCITE Not yet , sir . FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Well , sir , Take your own time . — Come , boys . FIRST COUNTRYMAN , aside to the others My mind misgives me . This fellow has a vengeance trick o’ th’ hip . Mark how his body’s made for ’t . SECOND COUNTRYMAN , aside to the others I’ll be hanged , though , if he dare venture . Hang him , plum porridge ! He wrestle ? He roast eggs ! Come , let’s be gone , lads . The four exit . ACT 2. SC. 4 ARCITE This is an offered opportunity I durst not wish for . Well I could have wrestled — The best men called it excellent — and run Swifter than wind upon a field of corn , Curling the wealthy ears , never flew . I’ll venture , And in some poor disguise 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 ? Arcite exits . Scene 4 Enter Jailer’s Daughter , alone . DAUGHTER 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 witless . 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 looked on . Next , I pitied him , And so would any young wench , o’ my conscience , That ever dreamed , or vowed her maidenhead To a young handsome man . Then I loved him , Extremely loved him , infinitely loved him ! And yet he had a cousin , fair as he too . But in my heart was Palamon , and there , Lord , what a coil he keeps ! To hear him Sing in an evening , what a heaven it is ! ACT 2. SC. 5 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 maid , good morrow . May thy goodness Get thee a happy husband . Once he kissed me ; I loved my lips the better ten days after . Would he would do so ev’ry day ! He grieves much — And me as much to see his misery . What should I do to make him know I love him ? For I would fain enjoy him . Say I ventured To set him free ? What says the law then ? Thus much for law or kindred ! I will do it , And this night , or tomorrow , he shall love me . She exits . Scene 5 This short flourish of cornets and shouts within . Enter Theseus , Hippolyta , Pirithous , Emilia , Arcite in disguise , with a garland , Attendants , and others . THESEUS , to Arcite You have done worthily . I have not seen , Since Hercules , a man of tougher sinews . Whate’er you are , you run the best and wrestle That these times can allow . ARCITE I am proud to please you . THESEUS What country bred you ? ARCITE This ; but far off , prince . THESEUS Are you a gentleman ? ARCITE My father said so , And to those gentle uses gave me life . ACT 2. SC. 5 THESEUS Are you his heir ? ARCITE His youngest , sir . THESEUS Your father , Sure , is a happy sire , then . What proves you ? ARCITE A little of all noble qualities . I could have kept a hawk and well have hallowed To a deep cry of dogs . I dare not praise My feat in horsemanship , yet they that knew me Would say it was my best piece . Last , and greatest , I would be thought a soldier . THESEUS You are perfect . PIRITHOUS Upon my soul , a proper man . EMILIA He is so . PIRITHOUS , to Hippolyta How do you like him , lady ? HIPPOLYTA I admire him . I have not seen so young a man so noble , If he say true , of his sort . EMILIA Believe , His mother was a wondrous handsome woman ; His face , methinks , goes that way . HIPPOLYTA But his body And fiery mind illustrate a brave father . PIRITHOUS Mark how his virtue , like a hidden sun , Breaks through his baser garments . HIPPOLYTA He’s well got , sure . THESEUS , to Arcite What made you seek this place , sir ? ARCITE Noble Theseus , To purchase name and do my ablest service To such a well-found wonder as thy worth ; ACT 2. SC. 5 For only in thy court , of all the world , Dwells fair-eyed Honor . PIRITHOUS All his words are worthy . THESEUS Sir , we are much indebted to your travel , Nor shall you lose your wish . — Pirithous , Dispose of this fair gentleman . PIRITHOUS Thanks , Theseus . — Whate’er you are , you’re mine , and I shall give you To a most noble service : to this lady , This bright young virgin . He brings Arcite to Emilia . Pray observe her goodness ; You have honored her fair birthday with your virtues , And , as your due , you’re hers . Kiss her fair hand , sir . ARCITE Sir , you’re a noble giver . — Dearest beauty , Thus let me seal my vowed faith . He kisses her hand . When your servant , Your most unworthy creature , but offends you , Command him die , he shall . EMILIA That were too cruel . If you deserve well , sir , I shall soon see ’t . You’re mine , and somewhat better than your rank I’ll use you . PIRITHOUS , to Arcite I’ll see you furnished , and because you say You are a horseman , I must needs entreat you This afternoon to ride — but ’tis a rough one . ARCITE I like him better , prince ; I shall not then Freeze in my saddle . THESEUS , to Hippolyta Sweet , you must be ready , — And you , Emilia , — and you , friend , — and all , ACT 2. SC. 6 Tomorrow by the sun , to do observance To flowery May in Dian’s wood . — Wait well , sir , Upon your mistress . — Emily , I hope He shall not go afoot . EMILIA 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 mistress . ARCITE If I do not , Let me find that my father ever hated , Disgrace and blows . THESEUS 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 . EMILIA I hope too wise for that , sir . Flourish . They all exit . Scene 6 Enter Jailer’s Daughter alone . DAUGHTER Let all the dukes and all the devils roar ! He is at liberty . I have ventured 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 files and food , for yet His iron bracelets are not off . O Love , What a stout-hearted child thou art ! My father Durst better have endured cold iron than done it . ACT 2. SC. 6 I love him beyond love and beyond reason Or wit or safety . I have made him know it ; I care not , I am desperate . If the law Find me and then condemn 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 do , maids will not so easily Trust men again . And yet he has not thanked me For what I have done ; no , not so much as kissed me , And that , methinks , is not so well ; nor scarcely Could I persuade him to become a free man , 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 do 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 clothes 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 hubbub 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 yourself . Now to him . She exits . ACT 3 Scene 1 Cornets in sundry places . Noise and hallowing as people a-Maying . Enter Arcite alone . ARCITE The Duke has lost Hippolyta ; each took A several laund . This is a solemn rite They owe bloomed May , and the Athenians pay it To th’ heart of ceremony . O Queen Emilia , Fresher than May , sweeter Than her gold buttons on the boughs , or all Th’ enameled knacks o’ th’ mead or garden — yea , We challenge too the bank of any nymph That makes the stream seem flowers ; thou , O jewel O’ th’ wood , o’ th’ world , hast likewise blessed a pace With thy sole presence . In thy rumination That I , poor man , might eftsoons come between And chop on some cold thought ! Thrice blessèd chance To drop on such a mistress , expectation Most guiltless on ’t . Tell me , O Lady Fortune , Next after Emily 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 ACT 3. SC. 1 Be by a pair of kings backed , in a field That their crowns’ titles tried . Alas , alas , Poor cousin Palamon , poor prisoner , thou So little dream’st upon my fortune that Thou think’st thyself the happier thing , to be So near Emilia ; me thou deem’st at Thebes , And therein wretched , although free . But if Thou knew’st my mistress breathed on me , and that I eared her language , lived in her eye — O coz , What passion would enclose thee ! Enter Palamon as out of a bush , with his shackles ; he bends his fist at Arcite . PALAMON Traitor 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 confessed traitor , O thou most perfidious That ever gently looked , the void’st of honor That e’er bore gentle token , falsest cousin 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 liest , and art A very thief in love , a chaffy lord , Nor worth the name of villain . Had I a sword , And these house clogs away — ARCITE Dear cousin Palamon — PALAMON Cozener Arcite , give me language such As thou hast showed me feat . ARCITE 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 , ACT 3. SC. 1 Cannot to me be kind . Honor and honesty I cherish and depend on , howsoe’er You skip them in me , and with them , fair coz , I’ll maintain my proceedings . Pray be pleased To show in generous terms your griefs , since that Your question’s with your equal , who professes To clear his own way with the mind and sword Of a true gentleman . PALAMON That thou durst , Arcite ! ARCITE My coz , my coz , you have been well advertised How much I dare ; you’ve 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 . PALAMON Sir , I have seen you move in such a place which well Might justify your manhood ; you were called A good knight and a bold . But the whole week’s not fair If any day it rain ; their valiant temper Men lose when they incline to treachery , And then they fight like compelled bears — would fly Were they not tied . ARCITE Kinsman , you might as well Speak this and act it in your glass as to His ear which now disdains you . PALAMON Come up to me ; Quit me of these cold gyves , give me a sword Though it be rusty , and the charity Of one meal lend me . Come before me then , A good sword in thy hand , and do 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 died manly , which will seek of me ACT 3. SC. 1 Some news from Earth earth , they shall get none but this : That thou art brave and noble . ARCITE 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 yourself and say but Arcite , I am in plight , there shall be at your choice Both sword and armor . PALAMON O you heavens , dares any So noble bear a guilty business ? None But only Arcite . Therefore none but Arcite In this kind is so bold . ARCITE Sweet Palamon . PALAMON I do embrace you and your offer ; for Your offer do ’t I only . Sir , your person Without hypocrisy I may not wish More than my sword’s edge on ’t . Wind horns off ; sound cornets . ARCITE You hear the horns . Enter your muset , lest this match between ’s Be crossed ere met . Give me your hand ; farewell . I’ll bring you every needful thing . I pray you , Take comfort and be strong . PALAMON Pray hold your promise , And do the deed with a bent brow . Most certain You love me not ; be rough with me , and pour This oil out of your language . By this air , I could for each word give a cuff , my stomach Not reconciled by reason . ARCITE Plainly spoken , Yet pardon me hard language . When I spur My horse , I chide him not ; content and anger ACT 3. SC. 2 In me have but one face . Wind horns . Hark , sir , they call The scattered to the banquet ; you must guess I have an office there . PALAMON Sir , your attendance Cannot please heaven , and I know your office Unjustly is achieved . ARCITE ’Tis a good title . I am persuaded this question , sick between ’s , By bleeding must be cured . I am a suitor That to your sword you will bequeath this plea , And talk of it no more . PALAMON But this one word : You are going now to gaze upon my mistress , For note you , mine she is — ARCITE Nay then , — PALAMON 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 . They exit . Scene 2 Enter Jailer’s Daughter , alone . DAUGHTER He has mistook the brake I meant , is gone After his fancy . ’Tis now well-nigh morning . No matter ; would it were perpetual 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 reck not if the wolves would jaw me , so ACT 3. SC. 2 He had this file . What if I hallowed for him ? I cannot hallow . If I whooped , what then ? If he not answered , I should call a wolf , And do him but that service . I have heard Strange howls this livelong night ; why may ’t not be They have made prey of him ? He has no weapons ; He cannot run ; the jingling of his gyves Might call fell things to listen , who have in them A sense to know a man unarmed and can Smell where resistance is . I’ll set it down He’s torn to pieces ; they howled many together , And then they fed on him ; so much for that . Be bold to ring the bell . How stand I then ? All’s chared when he is gone . No , no , I lie . My father’s to be hanged for his escape ; Myself to beg , if I prized life so much As to deny my act , but that I would not , Should I try death by dozens . I am moped ; Food took I none these two days ; Sipped some water . I have not closed mine eyes Save when my lids scoured off their brine . Alas , Dissolve , my life ! Let not my sense unsettle , Lest I should drown , or stab , or hang myself . O state of nature , fail together in me , Since thy best props are warped ! So , which way now ? The best way is the next way to a grave ; Each errant step beside is torment . Lo , The moon is down , the crickets chirp , the screech 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 . She exits . ACT 3. SC. 3 Scene 3 Enter Arcite with meat , wine , and files . ARCITE I should be near the place . — Ho ! Cousin Palamon ! PALAMON , within Arcite ? ARCITE The same . I have brought you food and files . Come forth and fear not ; here’s no Theseus . Enter Palamon . PALAMON Nor none so honest , Arcite . ARCITE That’s no matter . We’ll argue that hereafter . Come , take courage ; You shall not die thus beastly . Here , sir , drink — I know you are faint — then I’ll talk further with you . PALAMON Arcite , thou mightst now poison me . ARCITE I might ; But I must fear you first . Sit down and , good now , No more of these vain parleys . Let us not , Having our ancient reputation with us , Make talk for fools and cowards . To your health . He drinks . PALAMON Do ! ARCITE Pray sit down , then , and let me entreat you , By all the honesty and honor in you , No mention of this woman ; ’twill disturb us . We shall have time enough . PALAMON Well , sir , I’ll pledge you . He drinks . ACT 3. SC. 3 ARCITE Drink a good hearty draught ; it breeds good blood , man . Do not you feel it thaw you ? PALAMON Stay , I’ll tell you After a draught or two more . ARCITE Spare it not . The Duke has more , coz . Eat now . PALAMON Yes . He eats . ARCITE I am glad You have so good a stomach . PALAMON I am gladder I have so good meat to ’t . ARCITE Is ’t not mad lodging Here in the wild woods , cousin ? PALAMON Yes , for them That have wild consciences . ARCITE How tastes your victuals ? Your hunger needs no sauce , I see . PALAMON Not much . But if it did , yours is too tart , sweet cousin . What is this ? ARCITE Venison . PALAMON ’Tis a lusty meat . Give me more wine . Here , Arcite , to the wenches We have known in our days ! He raises his cup in a toast . The Lord Steward’s daughter ! Do you remember her ? ARCITE After you , coz . PALAMON She loved a black-haired man . ARCITE She did so ; well , sir ? ACT 3. SC. 3 PALAMON And I have heard some call him Arcite , and — ARCITE Out with ’t , faith . PALAMON She met him in an arbor . What did she there , coz ? Play o’ th’ virginals ? ARCITE Something she did , sir . PALAMON Made her groan a month for ’t — Or two , or three , or ten . ARCITE The Marshal’s sister Had her share , too , as I remember , cousin , Else there be tales abroad . You’ll pledge her ? PALAMON Yes . He lifts his cup and then drinks . ARCITE 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 ! PALAMON For Emily , upon my life ! Fool , Away with this strained mirth . I say again That sigh was breathed for Emily . Base cousin , Dar’st thou break first ? ARCITE You are wide . PALAMON By heaven and Earth earth , There’s nothing in thee honest . ARCITE Then I’ll leave you . You are a beast now . PALAMON As thou mak’st me , traitor . ARCITE There’s all things needful : files and shirts and perfumes . ACT 3. SC. 4 I’ll come again some two hours hence and bring That that shall quiet all . PALAMON A sword and armor . ARCITE Fear me not . You are now too foul . Farewell . Get off your trinkets ; you shall want naught . PALAMON Sirrah — ARCITE I’ll hear no more . He exits . PALAMON If he keep touch , he dies for ’t . He exits . Scene 4 Enter Jailer’s Daughter . DAUGHTER 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 ! Open her before the wind ; you’ll lose all else . Up with a course or two , and tack about , boys ! Good night , good night ; you’re gone . I am 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 carrack of a cockleshell , and sail By east and northeast to the king of pygmies , For he tells fortunes rarely . Now my father , ACT 3. SC. 5 Twenty to one , is trussed up in a trice Tomorrow morning . I’ll say never a word . ( Sing . ) For I’ll cut my green coat a foot above my knee , And I’ll clip my yellow locks an inch below mine eye . Hey nonny , nonny , nonny . He’s buy me a white cut , forth for to ride , And I’ll go seek him through the world that is so wide . Hey nonny , nonny , nonny . O , for a prick now , like a nightingale , To put my breast against . I shall sleep like a top else . She exits . Scene 5 Enter a Schoolmaster and six Countrymen , one dressed as a Bavian . SCHOOLMASTER Fie , fie , what tediosity and disinsanity is here among you ! Have my rudiments been labored so long with you , milked unto you , and , by a figure , even the very plum broth and marrow of my understanding laid upon you , and do you still cry Where ? and How ? and Wherefore ? You most coarse-frieze capacities , you jean judgments , have I said Thus let be and There let be and Then let be and no man understand me ? Proh deum , medius fidius , you are all dunces ! Forwhy , here stand I ; here the Duke comes ; there are you , close in the thicket ; the Duke appears ; I meet him and unto him I utter learnèd things and many figures ; he hears , and nods , and hums , and then cries Rare ! and I go forward . At length I fling my cap up — mark there ! Then do you as once did Meleager ACT 3. SC. 5 and the boar — break comely out before him ; like true lovers , cast yourselves in a body decently , and sweetly , by a figure , trace and turn , boys . FIRST COUNTRYMAN And sweetly we will do it , Master Gerald . SECOND COUNTRYMAN Draw up the company . Where’s the taborer ? THIRD COUNTRYMAN Why , Timothy ! Enter the Taborer . TABORER Here , my mad boys . Have at you ! SCHOOLMASTER But I say , where’s their women ? Enter five Wenches . FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Here’s Fritz and Maudlin . SECOND COUNTRYMAN And little Luce with the white legs , and bouncing Barbary . FIRST COUNTRYMAN And freckled Nell , that never failed her master . SCHOOLMASTER Where be your ribbons , maids ? Swim with your bodies , and carry it sweetly and deliverly , and now and then a favor and a frisk . NELL Let us alone , sir . SCHOOLMASTER Where’s the rest o’ th’ music ? THIRD COUNTRYMAN Dispersed , as you commanded . SCHOOLMASTER Couple , then , and see what’s wanting . Where’s the Bavian ? — My friend , carry your tail without offense or scandal to the ladies ; and be sure you tumble with audacity and manhood , and when you bark , do it with judgment . BAVIAN Yes , sir . SCHOOLMASTER Quo usque tandem ? Here is a woman wanting . FOURTH COUNTRYMAN We may go whistle ; all the fat’s i’ th’ fire . SCHOOLMASTER We have , as learnèd authors utter , ACT 3. SC. 5 washed a tile ; we have been fatuus and labored vainly . SECOND COUNTRYMAN This is that scornful piece , that scurvy hilding that gave her promise faithfully she would be here — Cicely , the sempster’s daughter . The next gloves that I give her shall be dogskin ; nay , an she fail me once — you can tell , Arcas , she swore by wine and bread she would not break . SCHOOLMASTER An eel and woman , a learnèd poet says , unless by th’ tail and with thy teeth thou hold , will either fail . In manners , this was false position . FIRST COUNTRYMAN A fire ill take her ! Does she flinch now ? THIRD COUNTRYMAN What shall we determine , sir ? SCHOOLMASTER Nothing . Our business is become a nullity , yea , and a woeful and a piteous nullity . FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Now , when the credit of our town lay on it , now to be frampold , now to piss o’ th’ nettle ! Go thy ways ; I’ll remember thee . I’ll fit thee ! Enter Jailer’s Daughter . DAUGHTER , sings The George Alow came from the south , From the coast of Barbary-a , And there he met with brave gallants of war , By one , by two , by three-a . Well hailed , well hailed , you jolly gallants , And whither now are you bound-a ? O , let me have your company Till I come to the sound-a . There was three fools , fell out about an owlet — Sings The one he said it was an owl , The other he said nay , ACT 3. SC. 5 The third he said it was a hawk , And her bells were cut away . THIRD COUNTRYMAN There’s a dainty madwoman , master , comes i’ th’ nick , as mad as a March hare . If we can get her dance , we are made again . I warrant her , she’ll do the rarest gambols . FIRST COUNTRYMAN A madwoman ? We are made , boys . SCHOOLMASTER , to Jailer’s Daughter And are you mad , good woman ? DAUGHTER I would be sorry else . Give me your hand . SCHOOLMASTER Why ? DAUGHTER I can tell your fortune . She looks at his hand . You are a fool . Tell ten . — I have posed him . Buzz ! — Friend , you must eat no white bread ; if you do , your teeth will bleed extremely . Shall we dance , ho ? I know you , you’re a tinker . Sirrah tinker , stop no more holes but what you should . SCHOOLMASTER Dii boni ! A tinker , damsel ? DAUGHTER Or a conjurer . Raise me a devil now , and let him play <foreign xml:id="for-0005" xml:lang="it"> <w xml:id="w0261350" n="3.5.100">Chi</w> <c xml:id="c0261360" n="3.5.100"> </c> <w xml:id="w0261370" n="3.5.100">passa</w> </foreign> o’ th’ bells and bones . SCHOOLMASTER Go , take her , and fluently persuade her to a peace . Et opus exegi , quod nec Iovis ira , nec ignis . Strike up , and lead her in . SECOND COUNTRYMAN Come , lass , let’s trip it . DAUGHTER I’ll lead . THIRD COUNTRYMAN Do , do ! SCHOOLMASTER Persuasively , and cunningly . Wind horns . Away , boys ! I hear the horns . Give me some meditation , and mark your cue . All but Schoolmaster exit . Pallas , inspire me ! Enter Theseus , Pirithous , Hippolyta , Emilia , and train . THESEUS This way the stag took . SCHOOLMASTER Stay , and edify ! ACT 3. SC. 5 THESEUS What have we here ? PIRITHOUS Some country sport , upon my life , sir . THESEUS , to Schoolmaster Well , sir , go forward . We will edify . Chairs and stools brought out . Ladies , sit down . We’ll stay it . Theseus , Hippolyta , and Emilia sit . SCHOOLMASTER Thou doughty duke , all hail ! — All hail , sweet ladies ! THESEUS , aside This is a cold beginning . SCHOOLMASTER If you but favor , our country pastime made is . We are a few of those collected here That ruder tongues distinguish villager . And to say verity , and not to fable , We are a merry rout , or else a rabble , Or company , or by a figure , chorus , That ’fore thy dignity will dance a morris . And I that am the rectifier of all , By title pedagogus , that let fall The birch upon the breeches of the small ones , And humble with a ferula the tall ones , Do here present this machine , or this frame . And , dainty duke , whose doughty dismal fame From Dis to Daedalus , from post to pillar , Is blown abroad , help me , thy poor well-willer , And with thy twinkling eyes look right and straight Upon this mighty Morr , of mickle weight — Is now comes in , which being glued together Makes Morris , and the cause that we came hither . The body of our sport , of no small study , I first appear , though rude , and raw , and muddy , To speak before thy noble grace this tenner , At whose great feet I offer up my penner . The next , the Lord of May and Lady bright , The Chambermaid and Servingman by night That seek out silent hanging ; then mine Host ACT 3. SC. 5 And his fat Spouse , that welcomes to their cost The gallèd traveler , and with a beck’ning Informs the tapster to inflame the reck’ning ; Then the beest-eating Clown ; and next the Fool , The Bavian with long tail and eke long tool , Cum multis aliis that make a dance ; Say ay , and all shall presently advance . THESEUS Ay , ay , by any means , dear Domine . PIRITHOUS Produce ! SCHOOLMASTER Intrate , filii . Come forth and foot it . Music . Enter the Countrymen , Countrywomen , and Jailer’s Daughter ; they perform a morris dance . SCHOOLMASTER Ladies , if we have been merry And have pleased ye with a derry , And a derry and a down , Say the Schoolmaster’s no clown . — Duke , if we have pleased thee too And have done as good boys should do , Give us but a tree or twain For a Maypole , and again , Ere another year run out , We’ll make thee laugh , and all this rout . THESEUS Take twenty , Domine . — How does my sweetheart ? HIPPOLYTA Never so pleased , sir . EMILIA ’Twas an excellent dance , And , for a preface , I never heard a better . THESEUS Schoolmaster , I thank you . — One see ’em all rewarded . An Attendant gives money . ACT 3. SC. 6 PIRITHOUS And here’s something to paint your pole withal . He gives money . THESEUS Now to our sports again . SCHOOLMASTER May the stag thou hunt’st stand long , And thy dogs be swift and strong ; May they kill him without lets , And the ladies eat his dowsets . Wind horns within . Theseus , Hippolyta , Emilia , Pirithous , and Train exit . Come , we are all made . Dii deaeque omnes , You have danced rarely , wenches . They exit . Scene 6 Enter Palamon from the bush . PALAMON About this hour my cousin gave his faith To visit me again , and with him bring Two swords and two good armors . If he fail , He’s neither man nor soldier . When he left me , I did not think a week could have restored My lost strength to me , I was grown so low And crestfall’n with my wants . I thank thee , Arcite , Thou art yet a fair foe , and I feel myself , With this refreshing , able once again To outdure danger . To delay it longer Would make the world think , when it comes to hearing , That I lay fatting like a swine to fight And not a soldier . Therefore , this blest morning Shall be the last ; and that sword he refuses , ACT 3. SC. 6 If it but hold , I kill him with . ’Tis justice . So , love and fortune for me ! Enter Arcite with armors and swords . O , good morrow . ARCITE Good morrow , noble kinsman . PALAMON I have put you To too much pains , sir . ARCITE That too much , fair cousin , Is but a debt to honor and my duty . PALAMON Would you were so in all , sir ; I could wish you As kind a kinsman as you force me find A beneficial foe , that my embraces Might thank you , not my blows . ARCITE I shall think either , Well done , a noble recompense . PALAMON Then I shall quit you . ARCITE Defy me in these fair terms , and you show More than a mistress to me . No more anger , As you love anything that’s honorable ! We were not bred to talk , man ; when we are armed And both upon our guards , then let our fury , Like meeting of two tides , fly strongly from us , And then to whom the birthright of this beauty Truly pertains — without upbraidings , scorns , Despisings of our persons , and such poutings , Fitter for girls and schoolboys — will be seen , And quickly , yours or mine . Will ’t please you arm , sir ? Or if you feel yourself not fitting yet And furnished with your old strength , I’ll stay , cousin , And ev’ry day discourse you into health , ACT 3. SC. 6 As I am spared . Your person I am friends with , And I could wish I had not said I loved her , Though I had died . But loving such a lady , And justifying my love , I must not fly from ’t . PALAMON Arcite , thou art so brave an enemy That no man but thy cousin’s fit to kill thee . I am well and lusty . Choose your arms . ARCITE Choose you , sir . PALAMON Wilt thou exceed in all , or dost thou do it To make me spare thee ? ARCITE If you think so , cousin , You are deceived , for as I am a soldier , I will not spare you . PALAMON That’s well said . ARCITE You’ll find it . PALAMON Then , as I am an honest man and love With all the justice of affection , I’ll pay thee soundly . He chooses armor . This I’ll take . ARCITE taking the other That’s mine , then . I’ll arm you first . PALAMON Do . Arcite begins arming him . Pray thee tell me , cousin , Where got’st thou this good armor ? ARCITE ’Tis the Duke’s , And to say true , I stole it . Do I pinch you ? PALAMON No . ARCITE Is ’t not too heavy ? PALAMON I have worn a lighter , But I shall make it serve . ARCITE I’ll buckle ’t close . ACT 3. SC. 6 PALAMON By any means . ARCITE You care not for a grand guard ? PALAMON No , no , we’ll use no horses . I perceive You would fain be at that fight . ARCITE I am indifferent . PALAMON Faith , so am I . Good cousin , thrust the buckle Through far enough . ARCITE I warrant you . PALAMON My casque now . ARCITE Will you fight bare-armed ? PALAMON We shall be the nimbler . ARCITE But use your gauntlets though . Those are o’ th’ least . Prithee take mine , good cousin . PALAMON Thank you , Arcite . How do I look ? Am I fall’n much away ? ARCITE Faith , very little ; love has used you kindly . PALAMON I’ll warrant thee , I’ll strike home . ARCITE Do , and spare not . I’ll give you cause , sweet cousin . PALAMON Now to you , sir . He begins to arm Arcite . Methinks this armor’s very like that , Arcite , Thou wor’st that day the three kings fell , but lighter . ARCITE That was a very good one , and that day , I well remember , you outdid me , cousin . I never saw such valor . When you charged Upon the left wing of the enemy , ACT 3. SC. 6 I spurred hard to come up , and under me I had a right good horse . PALAMON You had , indeed ; A bright bay , I remember . ARCITE Yes , but all Was vainly labored in me ; you outwent me , Nor could my wishes reach you ; yet a little I did by imitation . PALAMON More by virtue ; You are modest , cousin . ARCITE When I saw you charge first , Methought I heard a dreadful clap of thunder Break from the troop . PALAMON But still before that flew The lightning of your valor . Stay a little ; Is not this piece too strait ? ARCITE No , no , ’tis well . PALAMON I would have nothing hurt thee but my sword . A bruise would be dishonor . ARCITE Now I am perfect . PALAMON Stand off , then . ARCITE Take my sword ; I hold it better . PALAMON I thank you , no ; keep it ; your life lies on it . Here’s one ; if it but hold , I ask no more For all my hopes . My cause and honor guard me ! ARCITE And me my love ! They bow several ways , then advance and stand . Is there aught else to say ? PALAMON This only , and no more : thou art mine aunt’s son . And that blood we desire to shed is mutual — In me thine , and in thee mine . My sword ACT 3. SC. 6 Is in my hand , and if thou kill’st me , The gods and I forgive thee . If there be A place prepared for those that sleep in honor , I wish his weary soul that falls may win it . Fight bravely , cousin . Give me thy noble hand . ARCITE , as they shake hands Here , Palamon . This hand shall never more Come near thee with such friendship . PALAMON I commend thee . ARCITE If I fall , curse me , and say I was a coward , For none but such dare die in these just trials . Once more farewell , my cousin . PALAMON Farewell , Arcite . Fight . Horns within . They stand . ARCITE Lo , cousin , lo , our folly has undone us ! PALAMON Why ? ARCITE This is the Duke , a-hunting , as I told you . If we be found , we are wretched . O , retire , For honor’s sake , and safely , presently Into your bush again . Sir , we shall find Too many hours to die in . Gentle cousin , If you be seen , you perish instantly For breaking prison , and I , if you reveal me , For my contempt . Then all the world will scorn us , And say we had a noble difference , But base disposers of it . PALAMON No , no , cousin , I will no more be hidden , nor put off This great adventure to a second trial . I know your cunning , and I know your cause . He that faints now , shame take him ! Put thyself Upon thy present guard — ACT 3. SC. 6 ARCITE You are not mad ? PALAMON Or I will make th’ advantage of this hour Mine own , and what to come shall threaten me I fear less than my fortune . Know , weak cousin , I love Emilia , and in that I’ll bury Thee and all crosses else . ARCITE Then come what can come , Thou shalt know , Palamon , I dare as well Die as discourse or sleep . Only this fears me : The law will have the honor of our ends . Have at thy life ! PALAMON Look to thine own well , Arcite . Fight again . Horns . Enter Theseus , Hippolyta , Emilia , Pirithous and train . THESEUS What ignorant and mad malicious traitors Are you , that ’gainst the tenor of my laws Are making battle , thus like knights appointed , Without my leave and officers of arms ? By Castor , both shall die . PALAMON Hold thy word , Theseus . We are certainly both traitors , both despisers Of thee and of thy goodness . I am Palamon , That cannot love thee , he that broke thy prison . Think well what that deserves . And this is Arcite . A bolder traitor never trod thy ground , A falser ne’er seemed friend . This is the man Was begged and banished ; this is he contemns thee And what thou dar’st do ; and in this disguise , Against thine own edict , follows thy sister , That fortunate bright star , the fair Emilia , Whose servant — if there be a right in seeing And first bequeathing of the soul to — justly ACT 3. SC. 6 I am ; and , which is more , dares think her his . This treachery , like a most trusty lover , I called him now to answer . If thou be’st As thou art spoken , great and virtuous , The true decider of all injuries , Say Fight again , and thou shalt see me , Theseus , Do such a justice thou thyself wilt envy . Then take my life ; I’ll woo thee to ’t . PIRITHOUS O heaven , What more than man is this ! THESEUS I have sworn . ARCITE We seek not Thy breath of mercy , Theseus . ’Tis to me A thing as soon to die as thee to say it , And no more moved . Where this man calls me traitor , Let me say thus much : if in love be treason , In service of so excellent a beauty , As I love most , and in that faith will perish , As I have brought my life here to confirm it , As I have served her truest , worthiest , As I dare kill this cousin that denies it , So let me be most traitor , and you please me . For scorning thy edict , duke , ask that lady Why she is fair , and why her eyes command me Stay here to love her ; and if she say traitor , I am a villain fit to lie unburied . PALAMON Thou shalt have pity of us both , O Theseus , If unto neither thou show mercy . Stop , As thou art just , thy noble ear against us ; As thou art valiant , for thy cousin’s soul , Whose twelve strong labors crown his memory , Let’s die together at one instant , duke ; Only a little let him fall before me , That I may tell my soul he shall not have her . ACT 3. SC. 6 THESEUS I grant your wish , for to say true , your cousin Has ten times more offended , for I gave him More mercy than you found , sir , your offenses Being no more than his . — None here speak for ’em , For ere the sun set both shall sleep forever . HIPPOLYTA Alas , the pity ! Now or never , sister , Speak not to be denied . That face of yours Will bear the curses else of after ages For these lost cousins . EMILIA In my face , dear sister , I find no anger to ’em , nor no ruin . The misadventure of their own eyes kill ’em . Yet that I will be woman and have pity , My knees shall grow to th’ ground but I’ll get mercy . She kneels . Help me , dear sister ; in a deed so virtuous , The powers of all women will be with us . Hippolyta kneels . Most royal brother — HIPPOLYTA Sir , by our tie of marriage — EMILIA By your own spotless honor — HIPPOLYTA By that faith , That fair hand , and that honest heart you gave me — EMILIA By that you would have pity in another ; By your own virtues infinite — HIPPOLYTA By valor ; By all the chaste nights I have ever pleased you — THESEUS These are strange conjurings . PIRITHOUS Nay , then , I’ll in too . He kneels . ACT 3. SC. 6 By all our friendship , sir , by all our dangers ; By all you love most , wars and this sweet lady — EMILIA By that you would have trembled to deny A blushing maid — HIPPOLYTA By your own eyes ; by strength , In which you swore I went beyond all women , Almost all men , and yet I yielded , Theseus — PIRITHOUS To crown all this : by your most noble soul , Which cannot want due mercy , I beg first — HIPPOLYTA Next hear my prayers — EMILIA Last let me entreat , sir — PIRITHOUS For mercy . HIPPOLYTA Mercy . EMILIA Mercy on these princes . THESEUS You make my faith reel . ( To Emilia . ) Say I felt Compassion to ’em both , how would you place it ? They rise from their knees . EMILIA Upon their lives , but with their banishments . THESEUS You are a right woman , sister : you have pity , But want the understanding where to use it . If you desire their lives , invent a way Safer than banishment . Can these two live , And have the agony of love about ’em , And not kill one another ? Every day They’d fight about you , hourly bring your honor In public question with their swords . Be wise , then , And here forget ’em ; it concerns your credit And my oath equally . I have said they die . ACT 3. SC. 6 Better they fall by th’ law than one another . Bow not my honor . EMILIA O , my noble brother , That oath was rashly made , and in your anger ; Your reason will not hold it . If such vows Stand for express will , all the world must perish . Besides , I have another oath ’gainst yours , Of more authority , I am sure more love , Not made in passion neither , but good heed . THESEUS What is it , sister ? PIRITHOUS Urge it home , brave lady . EMILIA That you would ne’er deny me anything Fit for my modest suit and your free granting . I tie you to your word now ; if you fail in ’t , Think how you maim your honor — For now I am set a-begging , sir , I am deaf To all but your compassion — how their lives Might breed the ruin of my name . Opinion ! Shall anything that loves me perish for me ? That were a cruel wisdom . Do men prune The straight young boughs that blush with thousand blossoms Because they may be rotten ? O , Duke Theseus , The goodly mothers that have groaned for these , And all the longing maids that ever loved , If your vow stand , shall curse me and my beauty , And in their funeral songs for these two cousins Despise my cruelty , and cry woe worth me , Till I am nothing but the scorn of women . For heaven’s sake , save their lives , and banish ’em . THESEUS On what conditions ? EMILIA Swear ’em never more To make me their contention , or to know me , ACT 3. SC. 6 To tread upon thy dukedom , and to be , Wherever they shall travel , ever strangers To one another . PALAMON I’ll be cut a-pieces Before I take this oath ! Forget I love her ? O , all you gods , despise me then ! Thy banishment I not mislike , so we may fairly carry Our swords and cause along ; else never trifle , But take our lives , duke . I must love , and will , And for that love must and dare kill this cousin On any piece the Earth earth has . THESEUS Will you , Arcite , Take these conditions ? PALAMON He’s a villain , then . PIRITHOUS These are men ! ARCITE No , never , duke . ’Tis worse to me than begging To take my life so basely ; though I think I never shall enjoy her , yet I’ll preserve The honor of affection , and die for her , Make death a devil ! THESEUS What may be done ? For now I feel compassion . PIRITHOUS Let it not fall again , sir . THESEUS Say , Emilia , If one of them were dead , as one must , are you Content to take th’ other to your husband ? They cannot both enjoy you . They are princes As goodly as your own eyes , and as noble As ever fame yet spoke of . Look upon ’em , And , if you can love , end this difference . I give consent . — Are you content too , princes ? BOTH With all our souls . THESEUS He that she refuses Must die then . ACT 3. SC. 6 BOTH Any death thou canst invent , duke . PALAMON If I fall from that mouth , I fall with favor , And lovers yet unborn shall bless my ashes . ARCITE If she refuse me , yet my grave will wed me , And soldiers sing my epitaph . THESEUS , to Emilia Make choice , then . EMILIA I cannot , sir ; they are both too excellent . For me , a hair shall never fall of these men . HIPPOLYTA What will become of ’em ? THESEUS Thus I ordain it — And , by mine honor , once again , it stands , Or both shall die : you shall both to your country , And each within this month , accompanied With three fair knights , appear again in this place , In which I’ll plant a pyramid ; and whether , Before us that are here , can force his cousin By fair and knightly strength to touch the pillar , He shall enjoy her ; the other lose his head , And all his friends ; nor shall he grudge to fall , Nor think he dies with interest in this lady . Will this content you ? PALAMON Yes . — Here , Cousin Arcite , I am friends again till that hour . He offers his hand . ARCITE I embrace you . They shake hands . THESEUS Are you content , sister ? EMILIA Yes , I must , sir , Else both miscarry . THESEUS , to Palamon and Arcite Come , shake hands again , then , ACT 3. SC. 6 And take heed , as you are gentlemen , this quarrel Sleep till the hour prefixed , and hold your course . PALAMON We dare not fail thee , Theseus . They shake hands again . THESEUS Come , I’ll give you Now usage like to princes and to friends . When you return , who wins I’ll settle here ; Who loses , yet I’ll weep upon his bier . They exit . ACT 4 Scene 1 Enter Jailer and his Friend . JAILER Heard you no more ? Was nothing said of me Concerning the escape of Palamon ? Good sir , remember ! FIRST FRIEND Nothing that I heard , For I came home before the business Was fully ended . Yet I might perceive , Ere I departed , a great likelihood Of both their pardons ; for Hippolyta And fair-eyed Emily , upon their knees , Begged with such handsome pity that the Duke , Methought , stood staggering whether he should follow His rash oath or the sweet compassion Of those two ladies . And , to second them , That truly noble prince , Pirithous — Half his own heart — set in too , that I hope All shall be well . Neither heard I one question Of your name or his ’scape . JAILER Pray heaven it hold so . Enter Second Friend . ACT 4. SC. 1 SECOND FRIEND Be of good comfort , man ; I bring you news , Good news . JAILER They are welcome . SECOND FRIEND Palamon has cleared you And got your pardon , and discovered how And by whose means he escaped , which was your daughter’s , Whose pardon is procured too ; and the prisoner , Not to be held ungrateful to her goodness , Has given a sum of money to her marriage — A large one , I’ll assure you . JAILER You are a good man And ever bring good news . FIRST FRIEND How was it ended ? SECOND FRIEND Why , as it should be : they that ne’er begged But they prevailed had their suits fairly granted ; The prisoners have their lives . FIRST FRIEND I knew ’twould be so . SECOND FRIEND But there be new conditions , which you’ll hear of At better time . JAILER I hope they are good . SECOND FRIEND They are honorable ; How good they’ll prove I know not . FIRST FRIEND ’Twill be known . Enter Wooer . WOOER Alas , sir , where’s your daughter ? JAILER Why do you ask ? WOOER O , sir , when did you see her ? ACT 4. SC. 1 SECOND FRIEND , aside How he looks ! JAILER This morning . WOOER Was she well ? Was she in health ? Sir , when did she sleep ? FIRST FRIEND , aside These are strange questions . JAILER I do not think she was very well — for now You make me mind her ; but this very day I asked her questions , and she answered me So far from what she was , so childishly , So sillily , as if she were a fool , An innocent , and I was very angry . But what of her , sir ? WOOER Nothing but my pity ; But you must know it , and as good by me As by another that less loves her . JAILER Well , sir ? WOOER No , sir , not well . FIRST FRIEND Not right ? SECOND FRIEND Not well ? WOOER ’Tis too true ; she is mad . FIRST FRIEND It cannot be . WOOER Believe you’ll find it so . JAILER I half suspected What you told me . The gods comfort her ! Either this was her love to Palamon , Or fear of my miscarrying on his ’scape , Or both . WOOER ’Tis likely . JAILER But why all this haste , sir ? WOOER I’ll tell you quickly . As I late was angling ACT 4. SC. 1 In the great lake that lies behind the palace , From the far shore — thick set with reeds and sedges — As patiently I was attending sport , I heard a voice , a shrill one ; and , attentive , I gave my ear , when I might well perceive ’Twas one that sung , and by the smallness of it A boy or woman . I then left my angle To his own skill , came near , but yet perceived not Who made the sound , the rushes and the reeds Had so encompassed it . I laid me down And listened to the words she sung , for then , Through a small glade cut by the fishermen , I saw it was your daughter . JAILER Pray go on , sir . WOOER She sung much , but no sense ; only I heard her Repeat this often : Palamon is gone , Is gone to th’ wood to gather mulberries ; I’ll find him out tomorrow . FIRST FRIEND Pretty soul ! WOOER His shackles will betray him ; he’ll be taken , And what shall I do then ? I’ll bring a bevy , A hundred black-eyed maids that love as I do , With chaplets on their heads of daffadillies , With cherry lips and cheeks of damask roses , And all we’ll dance an antic ’fore the Duke , And beg his pardon . Then she talked of you , sir — That you must lose your head tomorrow morning , And she must gather flowers to bury you , And see the house made handsome . Then she sung Nothing but Willow , willow , willow , and between Ever was Palamon , fair Palamon , And Palamon was a tall young man . The place Was knee-deep where she sat ; her careless tresses , ACT 4. SC. 1 A wreath of bulrush rounded ; about her stuck Thousand freshwater flowers of several colors , That methought she appeared like the fair nymph That feeds the lake with waters , or as Iris Newly dropped down from heaven . Rings she made Of rushes that grew by , and to ’em spoke The prettiest posies : Thus our true love’s tied , This you may lose , not me , and many a one ; And then she wept , and sung again , and sighed , And with the same breath smiled and kissed her hand . SECOND FRIEND Alas , what pity it is ! WOOER I made in to her . She saw me , and straight sought the flood . I saved her And set her safe to land , when presently She slipped away , and to the city made With such a cry and swiftness that , believe me , She left me far behind her . Three or four I saw from far off cross her — one of ’em I knew to be your brother — where she stayed And fell , scarce to be got away . I left them with her And hither came to tell you . Enter Jailer’s Brother , Jailer’s Daughter , and others . Here they are . DAUGHTER , sings May you never more enjoy the light , etc. Is not this a fine song ? BROTHER O , a very fine one . DAUGHTER I can sing twenty more . BROTHER I think you can . DAUGHTER Yes , truly can I . I can sing <w xml:id="w0352610" n="4.1.142">The</w> <c xml:id="c0352620" n="4.1.142"> </c> <w xml:id="w0352630" n="4.1.142">Broom</w> and <w xml:id="w0352660" n="4.1.143">Bonny</w> <c xml:id="c0352670" n="4.1.143"> </c> <w xml:id="w0352680" n="4.1.143">Robin</w> <pc xml:id="p0352690" n="4.1.143">.</pc> Are not you a tailor ? BROTHER Yes . ACT 4. SC. 1 DAUGHTER Where’s my wedding gown ? BROTHER I’ll bring it tomorrow . DAUGHTER Do , very rarely , I must be abroad else to call the maids and pay the minstrels , for I must lose my maidenhead by cocklight . ’Twill never thrive else . Sings . O fair , O sweet , etc. BROTHER , to Jailer You must e’en take it patiently . JAILER ’Tis true . DAUGHTER Good e’en , good men . Pray , did you ever hear of one young Palamon ? JAILER Yes , wench , we know him . DAUGHTER Is ’t not a fine young gentleman ? JAILER ’Tis , love . BROTHER , aside to others By no mean cross her ; she is then distempered far worse than now she shows . FIRST FRIEND , to Daughter Yes , he’s a fine man . DAUGHTER O , is he so ? You have a sister . FIRST FRIEND Yes . DAUGHTER But she shall never have him — tell her so — for a trick that I know ; you’d best look to her , for if she see him once , she’s gone , she’s done and undone in an hour . All the young maids of our town are in love with him , but I laugh at ’em and let ’em all alone . Is ’t not a wise course ? FIRST FRIEND Yes . DAUGHTER There is at least two hundred now with child by him — there must be four ; yet I keep close for all this , close as a cockle ; and all these must be boys — he has the trick on ’t — and at ten years old they must be all gelt for musicians and sing the wars of Theseus . SECOND FRIEND This is strange . DAUGHTER As ever you heard , but say nothing . FIRST FRIEND No . ACT 4. SC. 1 DAUGHTER They come from all parts of the dukedom to him ; I’ll warrant you , he had not so few last night as twenty to dispatch . He’ll tickle ’t up in two hours , if his hand be in . JAILER , aside She’s lost past all cure . BROTHER Heaven forbid , man ! DAUGHTER , to Jailer Come hither ; you are a wise man . FIRST FRIEND , aside Does she know him ? SECOND FRIEND No ; would she did . DAUGHTER You are master of a ship ? JAILER Yes . DAUGHTER Where’s your compass ? JAILER Here . DAUGHTER Set it to th’ north . And now direct your course to th’ wood , where Palamon lies longing for me . For the tackling , let me alone . — Come , weigh , my hearts , cheerly . ALL , as if sailing a ship Owgh , owgh , owgh ! — ’Tis up ! The wind’s fair ! — Top the bowline ! — Out with the main sail ! Where’s your whistle , master ? BROTHER Let’s get her in ! JAILER Up to the top , boy ! BROTHER Where’s the pilot ? FIRST FRIEND Here . DAUGHTER What kenn’st thou ? SECOND FRIEND A fair wood . DAUGHTER Bear for it , master . Tack about ! Sings . When Cynthia with her borrowed light , etc. They exit . ACT 4. SC. 2 Scene 2 Enter Emilia alone , with two pictures . EMILIA Yet I may bind those wounds up that must open And bleed to death for my sake else . I’ll choose , And end their strife . Two such young handsome men Shall never fall for me ; their weeping mothers , Following the dead cold ashes of their sons , Shall never curse my cruelty . Looks at one of the pictures . Good heaven , What a sweet face has Arcite ! If wise Nature , With all her best endowments , all those beauties She sows into the births of noble bodies , Were here a mortal woman , and had in her The coy denials of young maids , yet doubtless She would run mad for this man . What an eye , Of what a fiery sparkle and quick sweetness , Has this young prince ! Here Love himself sits smiling ; Just such another wanton Ganymede Set Jove afire with , and enforced the god Snatch up the goodly boy and set him by him , A shining constellation . What a brow , Of what a spacious majesty , he carries , Arched like the great-eyed Juno’s but far sweeter , Smoother than Pelops’ shoulder ! Fame and Honor , Methinks , from hence as from a promontory Pointed in heaven , should clap their wings and sing To all the under world the loves and fights Of gods and such men near ’em . Looks at the other picture . Palamon Is but his foil , to him a mere dull shadow ; He’s swart and meager , of an eye as heavy ACT 4. SC. 2 As if he had lost his mother ; a still temper , No stirring in him , no alacrity ; Of all this sprightly sharpness not a smile . Yet these that we count errors may become him ; Narcissus was a sad boy but a heavenly . O , who can find the bent of woman’s fancy ? I am a fool ; my reason is lost in me ; I have no choice , and I have lied so lewdly That women ought to beat me . On my knees I ask thy pardon : Palamon , thou art alone And only beautiful , and these the eyes , These the bright lamps of beauty , that command And threaten love , and what young maid dare cross ’em ? What a bold gravity , and yet inviting , Has this brown manly face ! O Love , this only From this hour is complexion . Lie there , Arcite . She puts aside his picture . Thou art a changeling to him , a mere gypsy , And this the noble body . I am sotted , Utterly lost . My virgin’s faith has fled me . For if my brother but even now had asked me Whether I loved , I had run mad for Arcite . Now , if my sister , more for Palamon . Stand both together . Now , come ask me , brother . Alas , I know not ! Ask me now , sweet sister . I may go look ! What a mere child is Fancy , That , having two fair gauds of equal sweetness , Cannot distinguish , but must cry for both . Enter a Gentleman . How now , sir ? GENTLEMAN From the noble duke , your brother , Madam , I bring you news : the knights are come . EMILIA To end the quarrel ? ACT 4. SC. 2 GENTLEMAN Yes . EMILIA Would I might end first ! What sins have I committed , chaste Diana , That my unspotted youth must now be soiled With blood of princes , and my chastity Be made the altar where the lives of lovers — Two greater and two better never yet Made mothers joy — must be the sacrifice To my unhappy beauty ? Enter Theseus , Hippolyta , Pirithous and Attendants . THESEUS , to Attendant Bring ’em in Quickly , by any means ; I long to see ’em . To Emilia . Your two contending lovers are returned , And with them their fair knights . Now , my fair sister , You must love one of them . EMILIA I had rather both , So neither for my sake should fall untimely . THESEUS Who saw ’em ? PIRITHOUS I awhile . GENTLEMAN And I . Enter a Messenger . THESEUS From whence come you , sir ? MESSENGER From the knights . THESEUS Pray speak , You that have seen them , what they are . MESSENGER I will , sir , And truly what I think . Six braver spirits Than these they have brought , if we judge by the outside , ACT 4. SC. 2 I never saw nor read of . He that stands In the first place with Arcite , by his seeming , Should be a stout man , by his face a prince — His very looks so say him ; his complexion Nearer a brown than black — stern and yet noble — Which shows him hardy , fearless , proud of dangers ; The circles of his eyes show fire within him , And as a heated lion , so he looks . His hair hangs long behind him , black and shining Like ravens’ wings ; his shoulders broad and strong , Armed long and round ; and on his thigh a sword Hung by a curious baldric , when he frowns To seal his will with . Better , o’ my conscience , Was never soldier’s friend . THESEUS Thou hast well described him . PIRITHOUS Yet a great deal short , Methinks , of him that’s first with Palamon . THESEUS Pray speak him , friend . PIRITHOUS I guess he is a prince too , And , if it may be , greater ; for his show Has all the ornament of honor in ’t : He’s somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of , But of a face far sweeter ; his complexion Is , as a ripe grape , ruddy . He has felt Without doubt what he fights for , and so apter To make this cause his own . In ’s face appears All the fair hopes of what he undertakes , And when he’s angry , then a settled valor , Not tainted with extremes , runs through his body And guides his arm to brave things . Fear he cannot ; He shows no such soft temper . His head’s yellow , Hard-haired and curled , thick-twined like ivy tods , Not to undo with thunder . In his face The livery of the warlike maid appears , ACT 4. SC. 2 Pure red and white , for yet no beard has blessed him . And in his rolling eyes sits Victory , As if she ever meant to crown his valor . His nose stands high , a character of honor ; His red lips , after fights , are fit for ladies . EMILIA Must these men die too ? PIRITHOUS When he speaks , his tongue Sounds like a trumpet . All his lineaments Are as a man would wish ’em , strong and clean . He wears a well-steeled axe , the staff of gold ; His age some five-and-twenty . MESSENGER There’s another — A little man , but of a tough soul , seeming As great as any ; fairer promises In such a body yet I never looked on . PIRITHOUS O , he that’s freckle-faced ? MESSENGER The same , my lord . Are they not sweet ones ? PIRITHOUS Yes , they are well . MESSENGER Methinks , Being so few , and well disposed , they show Great and fine art in nature . He’s white-haired — Not wanton white , but such a manly color Next to an auburn ; tough and nimble-set , Which shows an active soul . His arms are brawny , Lined with strong sinews — to the shoulder-piece Gently they swell , like women new-conceived , Which speaks him prone to labor , never fainting Under the weight of arms ; stout-hearted still , But when he stirs , a tiger . He’s grey-eyed , Which yields compassion where he conquers ; sharp To spy advantages , and where he finds ’em , He’s swift to make ’em his . He does no wrongs , ACT 4. SC. 2 Nor takes none . He’s round-faced , and when he smiles He shows a lover ; when he frowns , a soldier . About his head he wears the winner’s oak , And in it stuck the favor of his lady . His age some six-and-thirty . In his hand He bears a charging-staff embossed with silver . THESEUS Are they all thus ? PIRITHOUS They are all the sons of honor . THESEUS Now , as I have a soul , I long to see ’em . — Lady , you shall see men fight now . HIPPOLYTA I wish it , But not the cause , my lord . They would show Bravely about the titles of two kingdoms ; ’Tis pity love should be so tyrannous . — O , my soft-hearted sister , what think you ? Weep not till they weep blood . Wench , it must be . THESEUS , to Emilia You have steeled ’em with your beauty . ( To Pirithous . ) Honored friend , To you I give the field ; pray order it Fitting the persons that must use it . PIRITHOUS Yes , sir . THESEUS Come , I’ll go visit ’em . I cannot stay — Their fame has fired me so — till they appear . Good friend , be royal . PIRITHOUS There shall want no bravery . All but Emilia exit . EMILIA Poor wench , go weep , for whosoever wins Loses a noble cousin for thy sins . She exits . ACT 4. SC. 3 Scene 3 Enter Jailer , Wooer , Doctor . DOCTOR Her distraction is more at some time of the moon than at other some , is it not ? JAILER She is continually in a harmless distemper , sleeps little , altogether without appetite , save often drinking , dreaming of another world , and a better ; and what broken piece of matter soe’er she’s about , the name Palamon lards it , that she farces ev’ry business withal , fits it to every question . Enter Jailer’s Daughter . Look where she comes ; you shall perceive her behavior . They stand aside . DAUGHTER I have forgot it quite . The burden on ’t was down-a down-a , and penned by no worse man than Geraldo , Emilia’s schoolmaster . He’s as fantastical , too , as ever he may go upon ’s legs , for in the next world will Dido see Palamon , and then will she be out of love with Aeneas . DOCTOR , aside to Jailer and Wooer What stuff’s here ? Poor soul . JAILER E’en thus all day long . DAUGHTER Now for this charm that I told you of , you must bring a piece of silver on the tip of your tongue , or no ferry ; then if it be your chance to come where the blessed spirits are , there’s a sight now ! We maids that have our livers perished , cracked to pieces with love , we shall come there , and do nothing all day long but pick flowers with Proserpine . Then will I make Palamon a nosegay ; then let him mark me then . DOCTOR How prettily she’s amiss ! Note her a little further . DAUGHTER Faith , I’ll tell you , sometime we go to ACT 4. SC. 3 barley-break , we of the blessed . Alas , ’tis a sore life they have i’ th’ other place — such burning , frying , boiling , hissing , howling , chatt’ring , cursing — O , they have shrewd measure , take heed ! If one be mad , or hang or drown themselves , thither they go , Jupiter bless us , and there shall we be put in a cauldron of lead and usurers’ grease , amongst a whole million of cutpurses , and there boil like a gammon of bacon that will never be enough . DOCTOR How her brains coins ! DAUGHTER Lords and courtiers that have got maids with child , they are in this place . They shall stand in fire up to the navel and in ice up to th’ heart , and there th’ offending part burns and the deceiving part freezes : in troth , a very grievous punishment , as one would think , for such a trifle . Believe me , one would marry a leprous witch to be rid on ’t , I’ll assure you . DOCTOR How she continues this fancy ! ’Tis not an engraffed madness , but a most thick and profound melancholy . DAUGHTER To hear there a proud lady and a proud city wife howl together — I were a beast an I’d call it good sport . One cries O this smoke ! th’ other , This fire ! ; one cries , O , that ever I did it behind the arras ! and then howls ; th’ other curses a suing fellow and her garden house . Sings . I will be true , my stars , my fate , etc. Daughter exits . JAILER What think you of her , sir ? DOCTOR I think she has a perturbed mind , which I cannot minister to . JAILER Alas , what then ? DOCTOR Understand you she ever affected any man ere she beheld Palamon ? ACT 4. SC. 3 JAILER I was once , sir , in great hope she had fixed her liking on this gentleman , my friend . WOOER I did think so , too , and would account I had a great penn’orth on ’t to give half my state that both she and I , at this present , stood unfeignedly on the same terms . DOCTOR That intemp’rate surfeit of her eye hath distempered the other senses . They may return and settle again to execute their preordained faculties , but they are now in a most extravagant vagary . This you must do : confine her to a place where the light may rather seem to steal in than be permitted . — Take upon you , young sir , her friend , the name of Palamon ; say you come to eat with her , and to commune of love . This will catch her attention , for this her mind beats upon ; other objects that are inserted ’tween her mind and eye become the pranks and friskins of her madness . Sing to her such green songs of love as she says Palamon hath sung in prison . Come to her stuck in as sweet flowers as the season is mistress of , and thereto make an addition of some other compounded odors which are grateful to the sense . All this shall become Palamon , for Palamon can sing , and Palamon is sweet and ev’ry good thing . Desire to eat with her , carve her , drink to her , and still among intermingle your petition of grace and acceptance into her favor . Learn what maids have been her companions and playferes , and let them repair to her with Palamon in their mouths , and appear with tokens , as if they suggested for him . — It is a falsehood she is in , which is with falsehoods to be combated . This may bring her to eat , to sleep , and reduce what’s now out of square in her into their former law and regiment . I have seen it approved , how many times I know not , but to ACT 4. SC. 3 make the number more , I have great hope in this . I will between the passages of this project come in with my appliance . Let us put it in execution and hasten the success , which doubt not will bring forth comfort . They exit . ACT 5 Scene 1 Flourish . Enter Theseus , Pirithous , Hippolyta , and Attendants . Three altars set up onstage . THESEUS Now let ’em enter and before the gods Tender their holy prayers . Let the temples Burn bright with sacred fires , and the altars In hallowed clouds commend their swelling incense To those above us . Let no due be wanting . They have a noble work in hand will honor The very powers that love ’em . PIRITHOUS Sir , they enter . Flourish of cornets . Enter Palamon and Arcite and their Knights . THESEUS You valiant and strong-hearted enemies , You royal german foes , that this day come To blow that nearness out that flames between you , Lay by your anger for an hour and , dove-like , Before the holy altars of your helpers , The all-feared gods , bow down your stubborn bodies . Your ire is more than mortal ; so your help be . And as the gods regard you , fight with justice . ACT 5. SC. 1 I’ll leave you to your prayers , and betwixt you I part my wishes . PIRITHOUS Honor crown the worthiest ! Theseus and his train exit . PALAMON The glass is running now that cannot finish Till one of us expire . Think you but thus , That were there aught in me which strove to show Mine enemy in this business , were ’t one eye Against another , arm oppressed by arm , I would destroy th’ offender , coz — I would Though parcel of myself . Then from this gather How I should tender you . ARCITE I am in labor To push your name , your ancient love , our kindred Out of my memory , and i’ th’ selfsame place To seat something I would confound . So hoist we The sails that must these vessels port even where The heavenly Limiter pleases . PALAMON You speak well . Before I turn , let me embrace thee , cousin . They embrace . This I shall never do again . ARCITE One farewell . PALAMON Why , let it be so . Farewell , coz . ARCITE Farewell , sir . Palamon and his Knights exit . Knights , kinsmen , lovers , yea , my sacrifices , True worshippers of Mars , whose spirit in you Expels the seeds of fear and th’ apprehension Which still is father of it , go with me Before the god of our profession . There Require of him the hearts of lions and The breath of tigers , yea , the fierceness too , Yea , the speed also — to go on , I mean ; ACT 5. SC. 1 Else wish we to be snails . You know my prize Must be dragged out of blood ; force and great feat Must put my garland on , where she sticks , The queen of flowers . Our intercession , then , Must be to him that makes the camp a cistern Brimmed with the blood of men . Give me your aid , And bend your spirits towards him . They go to Mars’s altar , fall on their faces before it , and then kneel . Thou mighty one , that with thy power hast turned Green Neptune into purple , whose approach Comets prewarn , whose havoc in vast field Unearthèd skulls proclaim , whose breath blows down The teeming Ceres’ foison , who dost pluck With hand armipotent from forth blue clouds The masoned turrets , that both mak’st and break’st The stony girths of cities ; me thy pupil , Youngest follower of thy drum , instruct this day With military skill , that to thy laud I may advance my streamer , and by thee Be styled the lord o’ th’ day . Give me , great Mars , Some token of thy pleasure . Here they fall on their faces as formerly , and there is heard clanging of armor , with a short thunder , as the burst of a battle , whereupon they all rise and bow to the altar . O , great corrector of enormous times , Shaker of o’er-rank states , thou grand decider Of dusty and old titles , that heal’st with blood The Earth earth when it is sick , and cur’st the world O’ th’ pleurisy of people , I do take Thy signs auspiciously , and in thy name To my design march boldly . — Let us go . They exit . ACT 5. SC. 1 Enter Palamon and his Knights , with the former observance . PALAMON Our stars must glister with new fire , or be Today extinct . Our argument is love , Which , if the goddess of it grant , she gives Victory too . Then blend your spirits with mine , You whose free nobleness do make my cause Your personal hazard . To the goddess Venus Commend we our proceeding , and implore Her power unto our party . Here they go to Venus’s altar , fall on their faces before it , and then kneel . Hail , sovereign queen of secrets , who hast power To call the fiercest tyrant from his rage And weep unto a girl ; that hast the might Even with an eye-glance to choke Mars’s drum And turn th’ alarm to whispers ; that canst make A cripple flourish with his crutch , and cure him Before Apollo ; that mayst force the king To be his subject’s vassal , and induce Stale gravity to dance . The polled bachelor , Whose youth , like wanton boys through bonfires , Have skipped thy flame , at seventy thou canst catch , And make him , to the scorn of his hoarse throat , Abuse young lays of love . What godlike power Hast thou not power upon ? To Phoebus thou Add’st flames hotter than his ; the heavenly fires Did scorch his mortal son , thine him . The huntress , All moist and cold , some say , began to throw Her bow away and sigh . Take to thy grace Me , thy vowed soldier , who do bear thy yoke As ’twere a wreath of roses , yet is heavier Than lead itself , stings more than nettles . I have never been foul-mouthed against thy law , ACT 5. SC. 1 Ne’er revealed secret , for I knew none — would not , Had I kenned all that were . I never practiced Upon man’s wife , nor would the libels read Of liberal wits . I never at great feasts Sought to betray a beauty , but have blushed At simp’ring sirs that did . I have been harsh To large confessors , and have hotly asked them If they had mothers — I had one , a woman , And women ’twere they wronged . I knew a man Of eighty winters — this I told them — who A lass of fourteen brided ; ’twas thy power To put life into dust . The agèd cramp Had screwed his square foot round ; The gout had knit his fingers into knots ; Torturing convulsions from his globy eyes Had almost drawn their spheres , that what was life In him seemed torture . This anatomy Had by his young fair fere a boy , and I Believed it was his , for she swore it was , And who would not believe her ? Brief , I am To those that prate and have done , no companion ; To those that boast and have not , a defier ; To those that would and cannot , a rejoicer . Yea , him I do not love that tells close offices The foulest way , nor names concealments in The boldest language . Such a one I am , And vow that lover never yet made sigh Truer than I . O , then , most soft sweet goddess , Give me the victory of this question , which Is true love’s merit , and bless me with a sign Of thy great pleasure . Here music is heard ; doves are seen to flutter . They fall again upon their faces , then on their knees . O thou that from eleven to ninety reign’st In mortal bosoms , whose chase is this world ACT 5. SC. 1 And we in herds thy game , I give thee thanks For this fair token , which being laid unto Mine innocent true heart , arms in assurance My body to this business . — Let us rise And bow before the goddess . They rise and bow . Time comes on . They exit . Still music of recorders . Enter Emilia in white , her hair about her shoulders , wearing a wheaten wreath ; one in white holding up her train , her hair stuck with flowers ; one before her carrying a silver hind , in which is conveyed incense and sweet odors , which being set upon the altar of Diana , her maids standing aloof , she sets fire to it . Then they curtsy and kneel . EMILIA O sacred , shadowy , cold , and constant queen , Abandoner of revels , mute contemplative , Sweet , solitary , white as chaste , and pure As wind-fanned snow , who to thy female knights Allow’st no more blood than will make a blush , Which is their order’s robe , I here , thy priest , Am humbled ’fore thine altar . O , vouchsafe With that thy rare green eye , which never yet Beheld thing maculate , look on thy virgin , And , sacred silver mistress , lend thine ear — Which ne’er heard scurrile term , into whose port Ne’er entered wanton sound — to my petition , Seasoned with holy fear . This is my last Of vestal office . I am bride-habited But maiden-hearted . A husband I have ’pointed , But do not know him . Out of two I should Choose one , and pray for his success , but I Am guiltless of election . Of mine eyes , Were I to lose one — they are equal precious — I could doom neither ; that which perished should ACT 5. SC. 2 Go to ’t unsentenced . Therefore , most modest queen , He of the two pretenders that best loves me And has the truest title in ’t , let him Take off my wheaten garland , or else grant The file and quality I hold I may Continue in thy band . Here the hind vanishes under the altar , and in the place ascends a rose tree , having one rose upon it . See what our general of ebbs and flows Out from the bowels of her holy altar With sacred act advances : but one rose . If well inspired , this battle shall confound Both these brave knights , and I , a virgin flower , Must grow alone unplucked . Here is heard a sudden twang of instruments , and the rose falls from the tree . The flower is fall’n , the tree descends . O mistress , Thou here dischargest me . I shall be gathered ; I think so , but I know not thine own will . Unclasp thy mystery ! — I hope she’s pleased ; Her signs were gracious . They curtsy and exit . Scene 2 Enter Doctor , Jailer , and Wooer in the habit of Palamon . DOCTOR Has this advice I told you done any good upon her ? WOOER O , very much . The maids that kept her company Have half-persuaded her that I am Palamon ; Within this half-hour she came smiling to me , ACT 5. SC. 2 And asked me what I would eat , and when I would kiss her . I told her Presently , and kissed her twice . DOCTOR ’Twas well done ; twenty times had been far better , For there the cure lies mainly . WOOER Then she told me She would watch with me tonight , for well she knew What hour my fit would take me . DOCTOR Let her do so , And when your fit comes , fit her home , And presently . WOOER She would have me sing . DOCTOR You did so ? WOOER No . DOCTOR ’Twas very ill done , then . You should observe her ev’ry way . WOOER Alas , I have no voice , sir , to confirm her that way . DOCTOR That’s all one , if you make a noise . If she entreat again , do anything . Lie with her , if she ask you . JAILER Ho there , doctor ! DOCTOR Yes , in the way of cure . JAILER But first , by your leave , I’ th’ way of honesty . DOCTOR That’s but a niceness . Ne’er cast your child away for honesty . Cure her first this way ; then if she will be honest , She has the path before her . JAILER Thank you , doctor . ACT 5. SC. 2 DOCTOR Pray bring her in And let’s see how she is . JAILER I will , and tell her Her Palamon stays for her . But , doctor , Methinks you are i’ th’ wrong still . Jailer exits . DOCTOR Go , go . You fathers are fine fools . Her honesty ? And we should give her physic till we find that ! WOOER Why , do you think she is not honest , sir ? DOCTOR How old is she ? WOOER She’s eighteen . DOCTOR She may be . But that’s all one ; ’tis nothing to our purpose . Whate’er her father says , if you perceive Her mood inclining that way that I spoke of , Videlicet , the way of flesh — you have me ? WOOER Yes , very well , sir . DOCTOR Please her appetite , And do it home ; it cures her , ipso facto , The melancholy humor that infects her . WOOER I am of your mind , doctor . DOCTOR You’ll find it so . Enter Jailer , Daughter , and Maid . She comes ; pray humor her . Wooer and Doctor stand aside . JAILER , to Daughter Come , your love Palamon stays for you , child , And has done this long hour , to visit you . DAUGHTER I thank him for his gentle patience . ACT 5. SC. 2 He’s a kind gentleman , and I am much bound to him . Did you ne’er see the horse he gave me ? JAILER Yes . DAUGHTER How do you like him ? JAILER He’s a very fair one . DAUGHTER You never saw him dance ? JAILER No . DAUGHTER I have , often . He dances very finely , very comely , And for a jig , come cut and long tail to him , He turns you like a top . JAILER That’s fine indeed . DAUGHTER He’ll dance the morris twenty mile an hour , And that will founder the best hobbyhorse , If I have any skill , in all the parish , And gallops to the tune of <w xml:id="w0452620" n="5.2.77">Light</w> <c xml:id="c0452630" n="5.2.77"> </c> <w xml:id="w0452640" n="5.2.77">o’</w> <c xml:id="c0452650" n="5.2.77"> </c> <w xml:id="w0452660" n="5.2.77">love</w> <pc xml:id="p0452670" n="5.2.77">.</pc> What think you of this horse ? JAILER Having these virtues , I think he might be brought to play at tennis . DAUGHTER Alas , that’s nothing . JAILER Can he write and read too ? DAUGHTER A very fair hand , and casts himself th’ accounts Of all his hay and provender . That hostler Must rise betime that cozens him . You know The chestnut mare the Duke has ? JAILER Very well . DAUGHTER She is horribly in love with him , poor beast , But he is like his master , coy and scornful . ACT 5. SC. 2 JAILER What dowry has she ? DAUGHTER Some two hundred bottles , And twenty strike of oats , but he’ll ne’er have her . He lisps in ’s neighing able to entice A miller’s mare . He’ll be the death of her . DOCTOR , aside What stuff she utters ! Wooer and Doctor come forward . JAILER Make curtsy ; here your love comes . WOOER Pretty soul , How do you ? Daughter curtsies . That’s a fine maid ; there’s a curtsy ! DAUGHTER Yours to command i’ th’ way of honesty . — How far is ’t now to th’ end o’ th’ world , my masters ? DOCTOR Why , a day’s journey , wench . DAUGHTER , to Wooer Will you go with me ? WOOER What shall we do there , wench ? DAUGHTER Why , play at stool-ball . What is there else to do ? WOOER I am content , If we shall keep our wedding there . DAUGHTER ’Tis true , For there , I will assure you , we shall find Some blind priest for the purpose , that will venture To marry us ; for here they are nice and foolish . Besides , my father must be hanged tomorrow , And that would be a blot i’ th’ business . Are not you Palamon ? WOOER Do not you know me ? ACT 5. SC. 2 DAUGHTER Yes , but you care not for me ; I have nothing But this poor petticoat and two coarse smocks . WOOER That’s all one ; I will have you . DAUGHTER Will you surely ? WOOER , taking her hand Yes , by this fair hand , will I . DAUGHTER We’ll to bed then . WOOER E’en when you will . He kisses her . DAUGHTER , wiping her face O , sir , you would fain be nibbling . WOOER Why do you rub my kiss off ? DAUGHTER ’Tis a sweet one , And will perfume me finely against the wedding . Is not this your cousin Arcite ? She indicates Doctor . DOCTOR Yes , sweetheart , And I am glad my cousin Palamon Has made so fair a choice . DAUGHTER Do you think he’ll have me ? DOCTOR Yes , without doubt . DAUGHTER , to Jailer Do you think so too ? JAILER Yes . DAUGHTER We shall have many children . ( To Doctor . ) Lord , how you’re grown ! My Palamon , I hope , will grow too , finely , Now he’s at liberty . Alas , poor chicken , He was kept down with hard meat and ill lodging , But I’ll kiss him up again . Enter a Messenger . ACT 5. SC. 2 MESSENGER What do you here ? You’ll lose the noblest sight That e’er was seen . JAILER Are they i’ th’ field ? MESSENGER They are . You bear a charge there too . JAILER I’ll away straight . — I must e’en leave you here . DOCTOR Nay , we’ll go with you . I will not lose the sight . JAILER , aside to Doctor How did you like her ? DOCTOR I’ll warrant you , within these three or four days I’ll make her right again . Jailer and Messenger exit . ( To Wooer . ) You must not from her , But still preserve her in this way . WOOER I will . DOCTOR Let’s get her in . WOOER Come , sweet , we’ll go to dinner And then we’ll play at cards . DAUGHTER And shall we kiss too ? WOOER A hundred times . DAUGHTER And twenty . WOOER Ay , and twenty . DAUGHTER And then we’ll sleep together . DOCTOR , to Wooer Take her offer . WOOER Yes , marry , will we . DAUGHTER But you shall not hurt me . WOOER I will not , sweet . DAUGHTER If you do , love , I’ll cry . They exit . ACT 5. SC. 3 Scene 3 Flourish . Enter Theseus , Hippolyta , Emilia , Pirithous , and some Attendants . EMILIA I’ll no step further . PIRITHOUS Will you lose this sight ? EMILIA I had rather see a wren hawk at a fly Than this decision ; ev’ry blow that falls Threats a brave life ; each stroke laments The place whereon it falls , and sounds more like A bell than blade . I will stay here . It is enough my hearing shall be punished With what shall happen , ’gainst the which there is No deafing but to hear ; not taint mine eye With dread sights it may shun . PIRITHOUS , to Theseus Sir , my good lord , Your sister will no further . THESEUS O , she must . She shall see deeds of honor in their kind , Which sometime show well , penciled . Nature now Shall make and act the story , the belief Both sealed with eye and ear . — You must be present ; You are the victor’s meed , the price and garland To crown the question’s title . EMILIA Pardon me . If I were there , I’d wink . THESEUS You must be there ; This trial is as ’twere i’ th’ night , and you The only star to shine . EMILIA I am extinct ; There is but envy in that light which shows The one the other . Darkness , which ever was The dam of horror , who does stand accursed Of many mortal millions , may even now , ACT 5. SC. 3 By casting her black mantle over both , That neither could find other , get herself Some part of a good name , and many a murder Set off whereto she’s guilty . HIPPOLYTA You must go . EMILIA In faith , I will not . THESEUS Why , the knights must kindle Their valor at your eye . Know , of this war You are the treasure , and must needs be by To give the service pay . EMILIA Sir , pardon me . The title of a kingdom may be tried Out of itself . THESEUS Well , well , then ; at your pleasure . Those that remain with you could wish their office To any of their enemies . HIPPOLYTA Farewell , sister . I am like to know your husband ’fore yourself By some small start of time . He whom the gods Do of the two know best , I pray them he Be made your lot . Theseus , Hippolyta , Pirithous , and others , exit . Emilia remains , comparing again the pictures of Arcite and Palamon . EMILIA Arcite is gently visaged , yet his eye Is like an engine bent , or a sharp weapon In a soft sheath ; mercy and manly courage Are bedfellows in his visage . Palamon Has a most menacing aspect ; his brow Is graved , and seems to bury what it frowns on ; Yet sometimes ’tis not so , but alters to The quality of his thoughts . Long time his eye Will dwell upon his object . Melancholy Becomes him nobly ; so does Arcite’s mirth ; ACT 5. SC. 3 But Palamon’s sadness is a kind of mirth , So mingled , as if mirth did make him sad And sadness merry . Those darker humors that Stick misbecomingly on others , on them Live in fair dwelling . Cornets . Trumpets sound as to a charge . Hark how yon spurs to spirit do incite The princes to their proof ! Arcite may win me , And yet may Palamon wound Arcite to The spoiling of his figure . O , what pity Enough for such a chance ? If I were by , I might do hurt , for they would glance their eyes Towards my seat , and in that motion might Omit a ward or forfeit an offense Which craved that very time . Cornets . A great cry and noise within crying À Palamon ! It is much better I am not there . O , better never born Than minister to such harm ! Enter Servant . What is the chance ? SERVANT The cry’s À Palamon . EMILIA Then he has won . ’Twas ever likely . He looked all grace and success , and he is Doubtless the prim’st of men . I prithee run And tell me how it goes . Shout and cornets , crying À Palamon ! SERVANT Still Palamon . EMILIA Run and inquire . Servant exits . Addressing Arcite’s picture . Poor servant , thou hast lost . Upon my right side still I wore thy picture , Palamon’s on the left — why so , I know not . ACT 5. SC. 3 I had no end in ’t else ; chance would have it so . On the sinister side the heart lies ; Palamon Had the best-boding chance . Another cry , and shout within , and cornets . This burst of clamor Is sure th’ end o’ th’ combat . Enter Servant . SERVANT They said that Palamon had Arcite’s body Within an inch o’ th’ pyramid , that the cry Was general À Palamon . But anon , Th’ assistants made a brave redemption , and The two bold titlers at this instant are Hand to hand at it . EMILIA Were they metamorphosed Both into one — O , why , there were no woman Worth so composed a man ! Their single share , Their nobleness peculiar to them , gives The prejudice of disparity , value’s shortness , To any lady breathing . Cornets . Cry within , Arcite , Arcite . More exulting ? Palamon still ? SERVANT Nay , now the sound is Arcite . EMILIA I prithee lay attention to the cry ; Set both thine ears to th’ business . Cornets . A great shout , and cry Arcite , victory ! SERVANT The cry is Arcite And Victory ! Hark , Arcite , victory ! The combat’s consummation is proclaimed By the wind instruments . EMILIA Half-sights saw That Arcite was no babe . God’s lid , his richness And costliness of spirit looked through him ; it could ACT 5. SC. 3 No more be hid in him than fire in flax , Than humble banks can go to law with waters That drift-winds force to raging . I did think Good Palamon would miscarry , yet I knew not Why I did think so . Our reasons are not prophets When oft our fancies are . They are coming off . Alas , poor Palamon ! Cornets . Enter Theseus , Hippolyta , Pirithous , Arcite as victor , and Attendants and others . THESEUS Lo , where our sister is in expectation , Yet quaking and unsettled . — Fairest Emily , The gods by their divine arbitrament Have given you this knight ; he is a good one As ever struck at head . — Give me your hands . Receive you her , you him . Be plighted with A love that grows as you decay . ARCITE Emily , To buy you I have lost what’s dearest to me Save what is bought , and yet I purchase cheaply , As I do rate your value . THESEUS O loved sister , He speaks now of as brave a knight as e’er Did spur a noble steed . Surely the gods Would have him die a bachelor , lest his race Should show i’ th’ world too godlike . His behavior So charmed me that methought Alcides was To him a sow of lead . If I could praise Each part of him to th’ all I have spoke , your Arcite Did not lose by ’t , for he that was thus good Encountered yet his better . I have heard Two emulous Philomels beat the ear o’ th’ night With their contentious throats , now one the higher , Anon the other , then again the first , And by-and-by out-breasted , that the sense ACT 5. SC. 4 Could not be judge between ’em . So it fared Good space between these kinsmen , till heavens did Make hardly one the winner . — Wear the garland With joy that you have won . — For the subdued , Give them our present justice , since I know Their lives but pinch ’em . Let it here be done . The scene’s not for our seeing . Go we hence Right joyful , with some sorrow . — Arm your prize ; I know you will not lose her . — Hippolyta , I see one eye of yours conceives a tear , The which it will deliver . EMILIA Is this winning ? O all you heavenly powers , where is your mercy ? But that your wills have said it must be so , And charge me live to comfort this unfriended , This miserable prince , that cuts away A life more worthy from him than all women , I should and would die too . HIPPOLYTA Infinite pity That four such eyes should be so fixed on one That two must needs be blind for ’t . THESEUS So it is . Flourish . They exit . Scene 4 Enter Guard with Palamon and his Knights , pinioned ; Jailer , Executioner and Others , carrying a block and an ax . PALAMON There’s many a man alive that hath outlived The love o’ th’ people ; yea , i’ th’ selfsame state Stands many a father with his child . Some comfort We have by so considering . We expire , And not without men’s pity . To live still , ACT 5. SC. 4 Have their good wishes ; we prevent The loathsome misery of age , beguile The gout and rheum that in lag hours attend For gray approachers ; we come towards the gods Young and unwappered , not halting under crimes Many and stale . That sure shall please the gods Sooner than such , to give us nectar with ’em , For we are more clear spirits . My dear kinsmen , Whose lives for this poor comfort are laid down , You have sold ’em too too cheap . FIRST KNIGHT What ending could be Of more content ? O’er us the victors have Fortune , whose title is as momentary As to us death is certain . A grain of honor They not o’er-weigh us . SECOND KNIGHT Let us bid farewell ; And with our patience anger tott’ring Fortune , Who at her certain’st reels . THIRD KNIGHT Come , who begins ? PALAMON E’en he that led you to this banquet shall Taste to you all . To Jailer . Ah ha , my friend , my friend , Your gentle daughter gave me freedom once ; You’ll see ’t done now forever . Pray , how does she ? I heard she was not well ; her kind of ill Gave me some sorrow . JAILER Sir , she’s well restored , And to be married shortly . PALAMON By my short life , I am most glad on ’t . ’Tis the latest thing I shall be glad of ; prithee , tell her so . Commend me to her , and to piece her portion , Tender her this . He gives his purse to Jailer . FIRST KNIGHT Nay , let’s be offerers all . ACT 5. SC. 4 SECOND KNIGHT Is it a maid ? PALAMON Verily , I think so . A right good creature , more to me deserving Than I can quit or speak of . ALL KNIGHTS Commend us to her . They give their purses . JAILER The gods requite you all and make her thankful ! PALAMON Adieu , and let my life be now as short As my leave-taking . Lays his head on the block . FIRST KNIGHT Lead , courageous cousin . SECOND AND THIRD KNIGHTS We’ll follow cheerfully . A great noise within crying Run ! Save ! Hold ! Enter in haste a Messenger . MESSENGER Hold , hold ! O , hold , hold , hold ! Enter Pirithous in haste . PIRITHOUS Hold , ho ! It is a cursèd haste you made If you have done so quickly ! — Noble Palamon , The gods will show their glory in a life That thou art yet to lead . PALAMON Can that be , When Venus , I have said , is false ? How do things fare ? PIRITHOUS Arise , great sir , and give the tidings ear That are most dearly sweet and bitter . PALAMON , rising What Hath waked us from our dream ? PIRITHOUS List then : your cousin , ACT 5. SC. 4 Mounted upon a steed that Emily Did first bestow on him — a black one , owing Not a hair worth of white , which some will say Weakens his price , and many will not buy His goodness with this note , which superstition Here finds allowance — on this horse is Arcite Trotting the stones of Athens — which the calkins Did rather tell than trample , for the horse Would make his length a mile , if ’t pleased his rider To put pride in him . As he thus went counting The flinty pavement , dancing , as ’twere , to th’ music His own hooves made — for , as they say , from iron Came music’s origin — what envious flint , Cold as old Saturn , and like him possessed With fire malevolent , darted a spark , Or what fierce sulphur else , to this end made , I comment not ; the hot horse , hot as fire , Took toy at this and fell to what disorder His power could give his will ; bounds , comes on end , Forgets school-doing , being therein trained And of kind manage . Pig-like he whines At the sharp rowel , which he frets at rather Than any jot obeys ; seeks all foul means Of boist’rous and rough jadery to disseat His lord that kept it bravely . When naught served , When neither curb would crack , girth break , nor diff’ring plunges Disroot his rider whence he grew , but that He kept him ’tween his legs , on his hind hoofs On end he stands That Arcite’s legs , being higher than his head , Seemed with strange art to hang . His victor’s wreath Even then fell off his head , and presently Backward the jade comes o’er , and his full poise Becomes the rider’s load . Yet is he living , But such a vessel ’tis that floats but for ACT 5. SC. 4 The surge that next approaches . He much desires To have some speech with you . Lo , he appears . Enter Theseus , Hippolyta , Emilia , and Arcite carried in a chair . PALAMON O , miserable end of our alliance ! The gods are mighty , Arcite . If thy heart , Thy worthy , manly heart , be yet unbroken , Give me thy last words . I am Palamon , One that yet loves thee dying . ARCITE Take Emilia And with her all the world’s joy . Reach thy hand ; Farewell . I have told my last hour . I was false , Yet never treacherous . Forgive me , cousin . One kiss from fair Emilia . She kisses him . ’Tis done . Take her . I die . He dies . PALAMON Thy brave soul seek Elysium ! EMILIA I’ll close thine eyes , prince . Blessed souls be with thee ! Thou art a right good man , and while I live , This day I give to tears . PALAMON And I to honor . THESEUS In this place first you fought ; e’en very here I sundered you . Acknowledge to the gods Our thanks that you are living . His part is played , and though it were too short , He did it well . Your day is lengthened , and The blissful dew of heaven does arrouse you . The powerful Venus well hath graced her altar , And given you your love . Our master , Mars , Hath vouched his oracle , and to Arcite gave ACT 5. SC. 4 The grace of the contention . So the deities Have showed due justice . — Bear this hence . PALAMON O cousin , That we should things desire which do cost us The loss of our desire , that naught could buy Dear love but loss of dear love . Arcite’s body is carried out . THESEUS Never Fortune Did play a subtler game . The conquered triumphs ; The victor has the loss ; yet in the passage The gods have been most equal . — Palamon , Your kinsman hath confessed the right o’ th’ lady Did lie in you , for you first saw her and Even then proclaimed your fancy . He restored her As your stol’n jewel and desired your spirit To send him hence forgiven . The gods my justice Take from my hand and they themselves become The executioners . Lead your lady off , And call your lovers from the stage of death , Whom I adopt my friends . A day or two Let us look sadly , and give grace unto The funeral of Arcite , in whose end The visages of bridegrooms we’ll put on And smile with Palamon — for whom an hour , But one hour since , I was as dearly sorry As glad of Arcite , and am now as glad As for him sorry . O you heavenly charmers , What things you make of us ! For what we lack We laugh , for what we have are sorry , still Are children in some kind . Let us be thankful For that which is , and with you leave dispute That are above our question . Let’s go off And bear us like the time . Flourish . They exit . EPILOGUE Enter Epilogue . EPILOGUE I would now ask you how you like the play , But , as it is with schoolboys , cannot say . I am cruel fearful ! Pray yet , stay a while , And let me look upon you . No man smile ? Then it goes hard , I see . He that has Loved a young handsome wench , then , show his face — ’Tis strange if none be here — and , if he will , Against his conscience let him hiss and kill Our market . ’Tis in vain , I see , to stay you . Have at the worst can come , then ! Now what say you ? And yet mistake me not : I am not bold . We have no such cause . If the tale we have told — For ’tis no other — any way content you — For to that honest purpose it was meant you — We have our end ; and you shall have ere long , I dare say , many a better , to prolong Your old loves to us . We , and all our might , Rest at your service . Gentlemen , good night . Flourish . He exits . all or part of a full metrical line all or part of a prose speech a short line which cannot be joined with other lines to form a full metrical line, or which may not be definitively identified asverse or prose editorial emendation