The Two Noble Kinsmen

PROLOGUE

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
55And 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
1010It 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.
1515If 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
2020That 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,
2525Weak 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
3030Worth two hours’ travel. To his bones sweet sleep;
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,
35Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;
Maiden pinks, of odor faint,
5Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true;
40Primrose, firstborn child of Ver,
Merry springtime’s harbinger,
With her bells dim;
10Oxlips in their cradles growing,
Marigolds on deathbeds blowing,
45Lark’s-heels trim;
All dear Nature’s children sweet
Lie ’fore bride and bridegroom’s feet,
Strew flowers.
15Blessing their sense.
Not an angel of the air,
50Bird melodious or bird fair,
Is absent hence.
The crow, the sland’rous cuckoo, nor
20The boding raven, nor chough hoar,
Nor chatt’ring pie,
55May 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

25For pity’s sake and true gentility’s,
Hear and respect me.

SECOND QUEEN , to Hippolyta

60For your mother’s sake,
And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair
ones,
30Hear and respect me.

THIRD QUEEN , to Emilia

Now for the love of him whom Jove hath marked
65The honor of your bed, and for the sake
Of clear virginity, be advocate
For us and our distresses. This good deed
35Shall raze you out o’ th’ book of trespasses
All you are set down there.

THESEUS , to First Queen

70Sad lady, rise.

HIPPOLYTA , to Second Queen

Stand up.

EMILIA , to Third Queen

No knees to me.
40What woman I may stead that is distressed
Does bind me to her.

THESEUS , to First Queen

75What’s your request? Deliver you for all.

FIRST QUEEN

We are three queens whose sovereigns fell before
The wrath of cruel Creon; who endured
45The beaks of ravens, talons of the kites,
And pecks of crows in the foul fields of Thebes.
80He will not suffer us to burn their bones,
To urn their ashes, nor to take th’ offense
Of mortal loathsomeness from the blest eye
50Of holy Phoebus, but infects the winds
With stench of our slain lords. O, pity, duke!
85Thou purger of the 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;
55And of thy boundless goodness take some note
That for our crownèd heads we have no roof
90Save this, which is the lion’s and the bear’s,
And vault to everything.

THESEUS

Pray you, kneel not.
60I was transported with your speech and suffered
Your knees to wrong themselves. I have heard the
95fortunes
Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting
As wakes my vengeance and revenge for ’em.
65King Capaneus was your lord. The day
That he should marry you, at such a season
100As 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,
70Nor in more bounty spread her. Your wheaten
wreath
105Was then nor threshed nor blasted. Fortune at you
Dimpled her cheek with smiles. Hercules, our
kinsman,
75Then weaker than your eyes, laid by his club;
He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide
110And swore his sinews thawed. O grief and time,
Fearful consumers, you will all devour!

FIRST QUEEN

O, I hope some god,
80Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood,
Whereto he’ll infuse power, and press you forth
115Our undertaker.

THESEUS

O, no knees, none, widow!
Unto the helmeted Bellona use them
85And pray for me, your soldier.The First Queen rises.
Troubled I am.

Turns away.

SECOND QUEEN

120Honored Hippolyta,
Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slain
The scythe-tusked boar; that with thy arm, as strong
90As it is white, wast near to make the male
To thy sex captive, but that this thy lord,
125Born to uphold creation in that honor
First nature styled it in, shrunk thee into
The bound thou wast o’erflowing, at once subduing
95Thy force and thy affection; soldieress
That equally canst poise sternness with pity,
130Whom 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
100The tenor of thy speech, dear glass of ladies,
Bid him that we, whom flaming war doth scorch,
135Under 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
105As any of us three; weep ere you fail.
Lend us a knee;
140But 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,
110Showing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon,
What you would do.

HIPPOLYTA

145Poor lady, say no more.
I had as lief trace this good action with you
As that whereto I am going, and never yet
115Went I so willing way. My lord is taken
Heart-deep with your distress; let him consider.
150I’ll speak anon.

Second Queen rises.

THIRD QUEEN

O, my petition was
Set down in ice, which by hot grief uncandied
120Melts into drops; so sorrow, wanting form,
Is pressed with deeper matter.

EMILIA

155Pray stand up.
Your grief is written in your cheek.

THIRD QUEEN

O, woe!
125You cannot read it there.She rises.
There through my tears,
160Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream,
You may behold ’em. Lady, lady, alack!
He that will all the treasure know o’ th’ Earth
130Must know the center too; he that will fish
For my least minnow, let him lead his line
165To catch one at my heart. O, pardon me!
Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,
Makes me a fool.

EMILIA

135Pray you say nothing, pray you.
Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in ’t,
170Knows 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,
140Such heart-pierced demonstration. But, alas,
Being a natural sister of our sex,
175Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me
That it shall make a counter-reflect ’gainst
My brother’s heart and warm it to some pity,
145Though it were made of stone. Pray have good
comfort.

THESEUS , coming forward

180Forward to th’ temple. Leave not out a jot
O’ th’ sacred ceremony.

FIRST QUEEN

O, this celebration
150Will longer last and be more costly than
Your suppliants’ war. Remember that your fame
185Knolls 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
155More than their actions. But, O Jove, your actions,
Soon as they move, as ospreys do the fish,
190Subdue before they touch. Think, dear duke, think
What beds our slain kings have!

SECOND QUEEN

What griefs our beds,
160That our dear lords have none!

THIRD QUEEN

None fit for th’ dead.
195Those that with cords, knives, drams, precipitance,
Weary of this world’s light, have to themselves
Been death’s most horrid agents, human grace
165Affords them dust and shadow.

FIRST QUEEN

But our lords
200Lie blist’ring ’fore the visitating sun,
And were good kings when living.

THESEUS

It is true, and I will give you comfort
170To give your dead lords graves;
The which to do must make some work with Creon.

FIRST QUEEN

205And that work presents itself to th’ doing.
Now ’twill take form; the heats are gone tomorrow.
Then, bootless toil must recompense itself
175With its own sweat. Now he’s secure,
Not dreams we stand before your puissance,
210Rinsing our holy begging in our eyes
To make petition clear.

SECOND QUEEN

Now you may take him,
180Drunk with his victory.

THIRD QUEEN

And his army full
215Of bread and sloth.

THESEUS

Artesius, that best knowest
How to draw out, fit to this enterprise,
185The prim’st for this proceeding, and the number
To carry such a business: forth and levy
220Our 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

190Dowagers, take hands.
Let us be widows to our woes. Delay
225Commends us to a famishing hope.

ALL THE QUEENS

Farewell.

SECOND QUEEN

We come unseasonably; but when could grief
195Cull forth, as unpanged judgment can, fitt’st time
For best solicitation?

THESEUS

230Why, good ladies,
This is a service whereto I am going
Greater than any was; it more imports me
200Than all the actions that I have foregone,
Or futurely can cope.

FIRST QUEEN

235The more proclaiming
Our suit shall be neglected when her arms,
Able to lock Jove from a synod, shall
205By warranting moonlight corselet thee. O, when
Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall
240Upon 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
210able
To make Mars spurn his drum? O, if thou couch
245But one night with her, every hour in ’t will
Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and
Thou shalt remember nothing more than what
215That banquet bids thee to.

HIPPOLYTA , to Theseus

Though much unlike
250You 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—
220Which breeds a deeper longing—cure their surfeit
That craves a present med’cine, I should pluck
255All ladies’ scandal on me.She kneels.
Therefore, sir,
As I shall here make trial of my prayers,
225Either presuming them to have some force,
Or sentencing for aye their vigor dumb,
260Prorogue this business we are going about, and
hang
Your shield afore your heart—about that neck
230Which is my fee, and which I freely lend
To do these poor queens service.

ALL QUEENS , to Emilia

265O, help now!
Our cause cries for your knee.

EMILIA , to Theseus, kneeling

If you grant not
235My sister her petition in that force,
With that celerity and nature which
270She makes it in, from henceforth I’ll not dare
To ask you anything, nor be so hardy
Ever to take a husband.

THESEUS

240Pray stand up.
Hippolyta and Emilia rise.
I am entreating of myself to do
275That which you kneel to have me.—Pirithous,
Lead on the bride; get you and pray the gods
For success and return; omit not anything
245In the pretended celebration.—Queens,
Follow your soldier. To Artesius. As before, hence
280you,
And at the banks of Aulis meet us with
The forces you can raise, where we shall find
250The moiety of a number for a business
More bigger looked.Artesius exits.
To Hippolyta.285Since that our theme is haste,
I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip;
Sweet, keep it as my token.—Set you forward,
255For I will see you gone.
The wedding procession begins to exit
towards the temple.
Farewell, my beauteous sister.—Pirithous,
290Keep the feast full; bate not an hour on ’t.

PIRITHOUS

Sir,
I’ll follow you at heels. The feast’s solemnity
260Shall want till your return.

THESEUS

Cousin, I charge you,
295Budge 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

265Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o’ th’
world.

SECOND QUEEN

300And earn’st a deity equal with Mars.

THIRD QUEEN

If not above him, for
Thou, being but mortal, makest affections bend
270To godlike honors; they themselves, some say,
Groan under such a mast’ry.

THESEUS

305As we are men,
Thus should we do; being sensually subdued,
We lose our human title. Good cheer, ladies.
275Now turn we towards your comforts.

Flourish. They exit.

Scene 2

Enter Palamon and Arcite.

ARCITE

Dear Palamon, dearer in love than blood
310And our prime cousin, yet unhardened in
The crimes of nature, let us leave the city
Thebes, and the temptings in ’t, before we further
5Sully our gloss of youth,
And here to keep in abstinence we shame
315As in incontinence; for not to swim
I’ th’ aid o’ th’ current were almost to sink,
At least to frustrate striving; and to follow
10The common stream, ’twould bring us to an eddy
Where we should turn or drown; if labor through,
320Our gain but life and weakness.

PALAMON

Your advice
Is cried up with example. What strange ruins,
15Since first we went to school, may we perceive
Walking in Thebes! Scars and bare weeds
325The 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
20By peace for whom he fought. Who then shall offer
To Mars’s so-scorned altar? I do bleed
330When such I meet, and wish great Juno would
Resume her ancient fit of jealousy
To get the soldier work, that peace might purge
25For her repletion, and retain anew
Her charitable heart, now hard and harsher
335Than strife or war could be.

ARCITE

Are you not out?
Meet you no ruin but the soldier in
30The cranks and turns of Thebes? You did begin
As if you met decays of many kinds.
340Perceive you none that do arouse your pity
But th’ unconsidered soldier?

PALAMON

Yes, I pity
35Decays where’er I find them, but such most
That, sweating in an honorable toil,
345Are paid with ice to cool ’em.

ARCITE

’Tis not this
I did begin to speak of. This is virtue
40Of no respect in Thebes. I spake of Thebes—
How dangerous, if we will keep our honors,
350It 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
45As they are here were to be strangers, and,
Such things to be, mere monsters.

PALAMON

355’Tis in our power—
Unless we fear that apes can tutor ’s—to
Be masters of our manners. What need I
50Affect another’s gait, which is not catching
Where there is faith? Or to be fond upon
360Another’s way of speech, when by mine own
I may be reasonably conceived—saved too,
Speaking it truly? Why am I bound
55By any generous bond to follow him
Follows his tailor, haply so long until
365The followed make pursuit? Or let me know
Why mine own barber is unblessed, with him
My poor chin too, for ’tis not scissored just
60To such a favorite’s glass? What canon is there
That does command my rapier from my hip
370To 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
65That draw i’ th’ sequent trace. These poor slight
sores
375Need not a plantain. That which rips my bosom
Almost to th’ heart’s—

ARCITE

Our Uncle Creon.

PALAMON

70He.
A most unbounded tyrant, whose successes
380Makes heaven unfeared and villainy assured
Beyond its power there’s nothing; almost puts
Faith in a fever, and deifies alone
75Voluble chance; who only attributes
The faculties of other instruments
385To 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
80The blood of mine that’s sib to him be sucked
From me with leeches; let them break and fall
390Off me with that corruption.

ARCITE

Clear-spirited cousin,
Let’s leave his court, that we may nothing share
85Of his loud infamy; for our milk
Will relish of the pasture, and we must
395Be vile or disobedient, not his kinsmen
In blood unless in quality.

PALAMON

Nothing truer.
90I think the echoes of his shames have deafed
The ears of heav’nly justice. Widows’ cries
400Descend again into their throats and have not
Due audience of the gods.

Enter Valerius.

Valerius.

VALERIUS

95The King calls for you; yet be leaden-footed
Till his great rage be off him. Phoebus, when
405He broke his whipstock and exclaimed against
The horses of the sun, but whispered to
The loudness of his fury.

PALAMON

100Small winds shake him.
But what’s the matter?

VALERIUS

410Theseus, who where he threats appalls, hath sent
Deadly defiance to him and pronounces
Ruin to Thebes, who is at hand to seal
105The promise of his wrath.

ARCITE

Let him approach.
415But 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—
110When that his action’s dregged with mind assured
’Tis bad he goes about?

PALAMON

420Leave that unreasoned.
Our services stand now for Thebes, not Creon.
Yet to be neutral to him were dishonor,
115Rebellious to oppose. Therefore we must
With him stand to the mercy of our fate,
425Who hath bounded our last minute.

ARCITE

So we must.
To Valerius. Is ’t said this war’s afoot? Or, it shall
120be,
On fail of some condition?

VALERIUS

430’Tis in motion;
The intelligence of state came in the instant
With the defier.

PALAMON

125Let’s to the King, who, were he
A quarter carrier of that honor which
435His enemy come in, the blood we venture
Should be as for our health, which were not spent,
Rather laid out for purchase. But alas,
130Our hands advanced before our hearts, what will
The fall o’ th’ stroke do damage?

ARCITE

440Let th’ event,
That never-erring arbitrator, tell us
When we know all ourselves, and let us follow
135The becking of our chance.

They exit.

Scene 3

Enter Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia.

PIRITHOUS

No further.

HIPPOLYTA

445Sir, farewell. Repeat my wishes
To our great lord, of whose success I dare not
Make any timorous question; yet I wish him
5Excess and overflow of power, an ’t might be,
To dure ill-dealing fortune. Speed to him.
450Store never hurts good governors.

PIRITHOUS

Though I know
His ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they
10Must yield their tribute there.—My precious maid,
Those best affections that the heavens infuse
455In their best-tempered pieces keep enthroned
In your dear heart!

EMILIA

Thanks, sir. Remember me
15To our all-royal brother, for whose speed
The great Bellona I’ll solicit; and
460Since in our terrene state petitions are not
Without gifts understood, I’ll offer to her
What I shall be advised she likes. Our hearts
20Are in his army, in his tent.

HIPPOLYTA

In ’s bosom.
465We 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
25That have sod their infants in—and after ate them—
The brine they wept at killing ’em. Then if
470You stay to see of us such spinsters, we
Should hold you here forever.

PIRITHOUS

Peace be to you
30As I pursue this war, which shall be then
Beyond further requiring.

Pirithous exits.

EMILIA

475How his longing
Follows his friend! Since his depart, his sports,
Though craving seriousness and skill, passed slightly
35His careless execution, where nor gain
Made him regard, or loss consider, but
480Playing one business in his hand, another
Directing in his head, his mind nurse equal
To these so diff’ring twins. Have you observed him
40Since our great lord departed?

HIPPOLYTA

With much labor,
485And 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
45Torrents whose roaring tyranny and power
I’ th’ least of these was dreadful, and they have
490Fought 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,
50And with a finger of so deep a cunning,
May be outworn, never undone. I think
495Theseus cannot be umpire to himself,
Cleaving his conscience into twain and doing
Each side like justice, which he loves best.

EMILIA

55Doubtless
There is a best, and reason has no manners
500To 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,
60Who made too proud the bed; took leave o’ th’ moon,
Which then looked pale at parting, when our count
505Was each eleven.

HIPPOLYTA

’Twas Flavina.

EMILIA

Yes.
65You talk of Pirithous’ and Theseus’ love.
Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasoned,
510More buckled with strong judgment, and their needs
The one of th’ other may be said to water
Their intertangled roots of love. But I,
70And she I sigh and spoke of, were things innocent,
Loved for we did, and like the elements
515That know not what nor why, yet do effect
Rare issues by their operance, our souls
Did so to one another. What she liked
75Was then of me approved, what not, condemned,
No more arraignment. The flower that I would pluck
520And put between my breasts—O, then but beginning
To swell about the blossom—she would long
Till she had such another, and commit it
80To the like innocent cradle, where, Phoenix-like,
They died in perfume. On my head no toy
525But was her pattern; her affections—pretty,
Though haply hers careless were—I followed
For my most serious decking. Had mine ear
85Stol’n some new air, or at adventure hummed one
From musical coinage, why, it was a note
530Whereon her spirits would sojourn—rather, dwell
on—
And sing it in her slumbers. This rehearsal—
90Which fury-innocent wots well comes in
Like old importment’s bastard—has this end,
535That the true love ’tween maid and maid may be
More than in sex individual.

HIPPOLYTA

You’re out of breath,
95And this high-speeded pace is but to say
That you shall never—like the maid Flavina—
540Love any that’s called man.

EMILIA

I am sure I shall not.

HIPPOLYTA

Now, alack, weak sister,
100I must no more believe thee in this point—
Though in ’t I know thou dost believe thyself—
545Than I will trust a sickly appetite,
That loathes even as it longs. But sure, my sister,
If I were ripe for your persuasion, you
105Have said enough to shake me from the arm
Of the all-noble Theseus, for whose fortunes
550I will now in and kneel, with great assurance
That we, more than his Pirithous, possess
The high throne in his heart.

EMILIA

110I 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

555To thee no star be dark!

SECOND QUEEN

Both heaven and Earth
Friend thee forever.

THIRD QUEEN

All the good that may
5Be wished upon thy head, I cry “Amen” to ’t!

THESEUS

560Th’ 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
10With treble ceremony; rather than a gap
565Should be in their dear rites, we would supply ’t;
But those we will depute which shall invest
You in your dignities and even each thing
Our haste does leave imperfect. So, adieu,
15And heaven’s good eyes look on you.Queens exit.

Enter a Herald and Soldiers bearing Palamon
and Arcite on biers.

570What 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

20By th’ helm of Mars, I saw them in the war,
575Like 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
25When I enquired their names?

HERALD

580Wi’ leave, they’re called
Arcite and Palamon.

THESEUS

’Tis right; those, those.
They are not dead?

HERALD

30Nor in a state of life. Had they been taken
585When 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.
35The very lees of such, millions of rates,
590Exceed 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
40’em
595Freed 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
45From our kind air, to them unkind, and minister
600What 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,
50Hath set a mark which nature could not reach to
605Without 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,
55Where, having bound things scattered, we will post
610To 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,
5615Sacred 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.
10620We convent naught else but woes.

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
15625lend
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
630may 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.
5I am given out to be better lined than it can
appear to me report is a true speaker. I would I
635were 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

10Sir, I demand no more than your own offer,
and I will estate your daughter in what I have
640promised.

JAILER

Well, we will talk more of this when the solemnity
is past. But have you a full promise of her?
15When 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

645Your 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
20over, we will have an end of it. I’ th’ meantime,
look tenderly to the two prisoners. I can tell you
650they are princes.

DAUGHTER

These strewings are for their chamber. ’Tis
pity they are in prison, and ’twere pity they should
25be out. I do think they have patience to make any
adversity ashamed. The prison itself is proud of
655’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
30’em. They stand a grise above the reach of report.

JAILER

I heard them reported in the battle to be the
660only doers.

DAUGHTER

Nay, most likely, for they are noble suff’rers.
I marvel how they would have looked had they
35been victors, that with such a constant nobility enforce
a freedom out of bondage, making misery
665their mirth and affliction a toy to jest at.

JAILER

Do they so?

DAUGHTER

It seems to me they have no more sense
40of their captivity than I of ruling Athens. They eat
well, look merrily, discourse of many things, but
670nothing of their own restraint and disasters. Yet
sometimes a divided sigh, martyred as ’twere i’ th’
deliverance, will break from one of them—when
45the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke that
I could wish myself a sigh to be so chid, or at least
675a sigher to be comforted.

WOOER

I never saw ’em.

JAILER

The Duke himself came privately in the night,
50and so did they.

Enter Palamon and Arcite, in shackles, above.

What the reason of it is, I know not. Look, yonder
680they are; that’s Arcite looks out.

DAUGHTER

No, sir, no, that’s Palamon. Arcite is the
lower of the twain; you may perceive a part of
55him.

JAILER

Go to, leave your pointing; they would not
685make 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

690Why, strong enough to laugh at misery
And bear the chance of war; yet we are prisoners
5I fear forever, cousin.

ARCITE

I believe it,
And to that destiny have patiently
695Laid up my hour to come.

PALAMON

O, cousin Arcite,
10Where is Thebes now? Where is our noble country?
Where are our friends and kindreds? Never more
Must we behold those comforts, never see
700The hardy youths strive for the games of honor,
Hung with the painted favors of their ladies,
15Like 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,
705Even in the wagging of a wanton leg,
Outstripped the people’s praises, won the garlands
20Ere 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
710Like proud seas under us. Our good swords now—
Better the red-eyed god of war ne’er wore—
25Ravished 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
715To blast whole armies more.

ARCITE

No, Palamon,
30Those 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
720And—which is heaviest, Palamon—unmarried.
The sweet embraces of a loving wife,
35Loaden with kisses, armed with thousand Cupids,
Shall never clasp our necks; no issue know us—
No figures of ourselves shall we e’er see,
725To glad our age, and like young eagles teach ’em
Boldly to gaze against bright arms and say
40“Remember what your fathers were, and conquer!”
The fair-eyed maids shall weep our banishments
And in their songs curse ever-blinded Fortune
730Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done
To youth and nature. This is all our world.
45We 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;
735Summer shall come, and with her all delights,
But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still.

PALAMON

50’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
740Our pointed javelins whilst the angry swine
Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,
55Struck with our well-steeled darts. All valiant uses,
The food and nourishment of noble minds,
In us two here shall perish; we shall die,
745Which is the curse of honor, lastly,
Children of grief and ignorance.

ARCITE

60Yet, cousin,
Even from the bottom of these miseries,
From all that fortune can inflict upon us,
750I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings,
If the gods please: to hold here a brave patience,
65And the enjoying of our griefs together.
Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish
If I think this our prison!

PALAMON

755Certainly
’Tis a main goodness, cousin, that our fortunes
70Were twined together. ’Tis most true, two souls
Put in two noble bodies, let ’em suffer
The gall of hazard, so they grow together,
760Will never sink; they must not, say they could.
A willing man dies sleeping and all’s done.

ARCITE

75Shall we make worthy uses of this place
That all men hate so much?

PALAMON

How, gentle cousin?

ARCITE

765Let’s think this prison holy sanctuary
To keep us from corruption of worse men.
80We are young and yet desire the ways of honor
That liberty and common conversation,
The poison of pure spirits, might like women
770Woo us to wander from. What worthy blessing
Can be but our imaginations
85May make it ours? And here being thus together,
We are an endless mine to one another;
We are one another’s wife, ever begetting
775New births of love; we are father, friends,
acquaintance;
90We are, in one another, families;
I am your heir, and you are mine. This place
Is our inheritance; no hard oppressor
780Dare take this from us; here with a little patience
We shall live long and loving. No surfeits seek us;
95The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seas
Swallow their youth. Were we at liberty,
A wife might part us lawfully, or business;
785Quarrels consume us; envy of ill men
Crave our acquaintance. I might sicken, cousin,
100Where you should never know it, and so perish
Without your noble hand to close mine eyes,
Or prayers to the gods. A thousand chances,
790Were we from hence, would sever us.

PALAMON

You have made
105me—
I thank you, cousin Arcite—almost wanton
With my captivity. What a misery
795It is to live abroad and everywhere!
’Tis like a beast, methinks. I find the court here,
110I am sure, a more content; and all those pleasures
That woo the wills of men to vanity
I see through now, and am sufficient
800To tell the world ’tis but a gaudy shadow
That old Time as he passes by takes with him.
115What had we been, old in the court of Creon,
Where sin is justice, lust and ignorance
The virtues of the great ones? Cousin Arcite,
805Had not the loving gods found this place for us,
We had died as they do, ill old men, unwept,
120And had their epitaphs, the people’s curses.
Shall I say more?

ARCITE

I would hear you still.

PALAMON

810You shall.
Is there record of any two that loved
125Better than we do, Arcite?

ARCITE

Sure there cannot.

PALAMON

I do not think it possible our friendship
815Should ever leave us.

ARCITE

Till our deaths it cannot.

Enter Emilia and her Woman, below.

130And after death our spirits shall be led
To those that love eternally.Palamon catches sight
of Emilia.
Speak on, sir.

EMILIA , to her Woman

820This garden has a world of pleasures in ’t.
What flower is this?

WOMAN

135’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

825Pray, forward.

PALAMON

Yes.

EMILIA , to Woman

140Or were they all hard-hearted?

WOMAN

They could not be to one so fair.

EMILIA

Thou wouldst not.

WOMAN

830I think I should not, madam.

EMILIA

That’s a good wench.
145But take heed to your kindness, though.

WOMAN

Why,
madam?

EMILIA

835Men are mad things.

ARCITE , to Palamon

Will you go forward,
150cousin?

EMILIA , to Woman

Canst not thou work such flowers in silk, wench?

WOMAN

Yes.

EMILIA

840I’ll have a gown full of ’em, and of these.
This is pretty color. Will ’t not do
155Rarely upon a skirt, wench?

WOMAN

Dainty, madam.

ARCITE , to Palamon

Cousin, cousin! How do you, sir? Why, Palamon!

PALAMON

845Never till now I was in prison, Arcite.

ARCITE

Why, what’s the matter, man?

PALAMON

160Behold, and wonder!
By heaven, she is a goddess.

ARCITE , seeing Emilia

Ha!

PALAMON

850Do reverence.
She is a goddess, Arcite.

EMILIA , to Woman

165Of all flowers
Methinks a rose is best.

WOMAN

Why, gentle madam?

EMILIA

855It is the very emblem of a maid.
For when the west wind courts her gently,
170How modestly she blows and paints the sun
With her chaste blushes! When the north comes
near her,
860Rude and impatient, then, like chastity,
She locks her beauties in her bud again,
175And leaves him to base briers.

WOMAN

Yet, good madam,
Sometimes her modesty will blow so far
865She falls for ’t. A maid,
If she have any honor, would be loath
180To take example by her.

EMILIA

Thou art wanton!

ARCITE , to Palamon

She is wondrous fair.

PALAMON

870She is all the beauty extant.

EMILIA , to Woman

The sun grows high. Let’s walk in. Keep these
185flowers.
We’ll see how near art can come near their colors.
I am wondrous merry-hearted. I could laugh now.

WOMAN

875I could lie down, I am sure.

EMILIA

And take one with you?

WOMAN

190That’s as we bargain, madam.

EMILIA

Well, agree then.

Emilia and Woman exit.

PALAMON

What think you of this beauty?

ARCITE

880’Tis a rare one.

PALAMON

Is ’t but a rare one?

ARCITE

195Yes, a matchless beauty.

PALAMON

Might not a man well lose himself and love her?

ARCITE

I cannot tell what you have done; I have,
885Beshrew mine eyes for ’t! Now I feel my shackles.

PALAMON

You love her, then?

ARCITE

200Who would not?

PALAMON

And desire her?

ARCITE

Before my liberty.

PALAMON

890I saw her first.

ARCITE

That’s nothing.

PALAMON

205But it shall be.

ARCITE

I saw her, too.

PALAMON

Yes, but you must not love her.

ARCITE

895I will not, as you do, to worship her
As she is heavenly and a blessèd goddess.
210I love her as a woman, to enjoy her.
So both may love.

PALAMON

You shall not love at all.

ARCITE

900Not love at all! Who shall deny me?

PALAMON

I, that first saw her; I that took possession
215First 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,
905Thou art a traitor, Arcite, and a fellow
False as thy title to her. Friendship, blood,
220And all the ties between us I disclaim
If thou once think upon her.

ARCITE

Yes, I love her,
910And, if the lives of all my name lay on it,
I must do so. I love her with my soul.
225If 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
915And have as just a title to her beauty
As any Palamon or any living
230That is a man’s son.

PALAMON

Have I called thee friend?

ARCITE

Yes, and have found me so. Why are you moved
920thus?
Let me deal coldly with you: am not I
235Part of your blood, part of your soul? You have
told me
That I was Palamon and you were Arcite.

PALAMON

925Yes.

ARCITE

Am not I liable to those affections,
240Those joys, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall
suffer?

PALAMON

You may be.

ARCITE

930Why then would you deal so cunningly,
So strangely, so unlike a noble kinsman,
245To love alone? Speak truly, do you think me
Unworthy of her sight?

PALAMON

No, but unjust
935If thou pursue that sight.

ARCITE

Because another
250First sees the enemy, shall I stand still
And let mine honor down, and never charge?

PALAMON

Yes, if he be but one.

ARCITE

940But say that one
Had rather combat me?

PALAMON

255Let that one say so,
And use thy freedom. Else, if thou pursuest her,
Be as that cursèd man that hates his country,
945A branded villain.

ARCITE

You are mad.

PALAMON

260I must be.
Till thou art worthy, Arcite, it concerns me.
And in this madness if I hazard thee
950And take thy life, I deal but truly.

ARCITE

Fie, sir!
265You play the child extremely. I will love her;
I must, I ought to do so, and I dare,
And all this justly.

PALAMON

955O, that now, that now,
Thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune
270To be one hour at liberty, and grasp
Our good swords in our hands, I would quickly
teach thee
960What ’twere to filch affection from another.
Thou art baser in it than a cutpurse.
275Put 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.
965Put my head out? I’ll throw my body out
And leap the garden when I see her next,
280And 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

970Do!

JAILER

By your leave, gentlemen.

PALAMON

285Now, honest keeper?

JAILER

Lord Arcite, you must presently to th’ Duke;
The cause I know not yet.

ARCITE

975I am ready, keeper.

JAILER

Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave you
290Of your fair cousin’s company.

Arcite and Jailer exit.

PALAMON

And me too,
Even when you please, of life.—Why is he sent for?
980It may be he shall marry her; he’s goodly,
And like enough the Duke hath taken notice
295Both 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,
985Let honest men ne’er love again. Once more
I would but see this fair one. Blessèd garden
300And fruit and flowers more blessèd that still
blossom
As her bright eyes shine on you, would I were,
990For all the fortune of my life hereafter,
Yon little tree, yon blooming apricock!
305How 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
995Still as she tasted should be doubled on her;
And, if she be not heavenly, I would make her
310So near the gods in nature, they should fear her.

Enter Jailer, above.

And then I am sure she would love me.—How now,
keeper,
1000Where’s Arcite?

JAILER

Banished. Prince Pirithous
315Obtained his liberty, but never more
Upon his oath and life must he set foot
Upon this kingdom.

PALAMON

1005He’s a blessèd man.
He shall see Thebes again, and call to arms
320The 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,
1010Yet in the field to strike a battle for her,
And, if he lose her then, he’s a cold coward.
325How bravely may he bear himself to win her
If he be noble Arcite—thousand ways!
Were I at liberty, I would do things
1015Of such a virtuous greatness that this lady,
This blushing virgin, should take manhood to her
330And seek to ravish me.

JAILER

My lord, for you
I have this charge to—

PALAMON

1020To discharge my life?

JAILER

No, but from this place to remove your Lordship;
335The windows are too open.

PALAMON

Devils take ’em
That are so envious to me! Prithee, kill me.

JAILER

1025And hang for ’t afterward!

PALAMON

By this good light,
340Had I a sword I would kill thee.

JAILER

Why, my lord?

PALAMON

Thou bringst such pelting, scurvy news continually,
1030Thou art not worthy life. I will not go.

JAILER

Indeed you must, my lord.

PALAMON

345May I see the garden?

JAILER

No.

PALAMON

Then I am resolved, I will not go.

JAILER

1035I must constrain you then; and, for you are
dangerous,
350I’ll clap more irons on you.

PALAMON

Do, good keeper.
I’ll shake ’em so, you shall not sleep;
1040I’ll make you a new morris. Must I go?

JAILER

There is no remedy.

PALAMON

355Farewell, kind window.
May rude wind never hurt thee. O, my lady,
If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was,
1045Dream how I suffer.—Come; now bury me.

Palamon and Jailer exit.

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
51050Beyond 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
101055window
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!
151060Twenty 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,
201065The 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.
251070I’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.

THIRD COUNTRYMAN

And I.

FOURTH COUNTRYMAN

301075Why, 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;
351080let 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
401085a 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.
451090And 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
501095the 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,
551100for 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
601105says 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.

THIRD COUNTRYMAN

We’ll see the sports, then every
651110man 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

701115By your leaves, honest friends: pray you,
whither go you?

FOURTH COUNTRYMAN

Whither?
Why, what a question’s that?

ARCITE

Yes, ’tis a question
751120To 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

801125Yes, 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

851130Thou 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
901135me. 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,
951140let’s be gone, lads.

The four exit.

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,
1001145Curling 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

1150Why 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;
5To be his whore is witless. Out upon ’t!
1155What 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,
10If he please to bestow it so, as ever
1160These 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,
15Extremely loved him, infinitely loved him!
1165And 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!
20And yet his songs are sad ones. Fairer spoken
1170Was 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
25Get thee a happy husband.” Once he kissed me;
1175I 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?
30For I would fain enjoy him. Say I ventured
1180To 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.
1185Whate’er you are, you run the best and wrestle
That these times can allow.

ARCITE

5I am proud to please you.

THESEUS

What country bred you?

ARCITE

This; but far off, prince.

THESEUS

1190Are you a gentleman?

ARCITE

My father said so,
10And to those gentle uses gave me life.

THESEUS

Are you his heir?

ARCITE

His youngest, sir.

THESEUS

1195Your father,
Sure, is a happy sire, then. What proves you?

ARCITE

15A 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
1200My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me
Would say it was my best piece. Last, and greatest,
20I would be thought a soldier.

THESEUS

You are perfect.

PIRITHOUS

Upon my soul, a proper man.

EMILIA

1205He is so.

PIRITHOUS , to Hippolyta

How do you like him, lady?

HIPPOLYTA

25I admire him.
I have not seen so young a man so noble,
If he say true, of his sort.

EMILIA

1210Believe,
His mother was a wondrous handsome woman;
30His face, methinks, goes that way.

HIPPOLYTA

But his body
And fiery mind illustrate a brave father.

PIRITHOUS

1215Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun,
Breaks through his baser garments.

HIPPOLYTA

35He’s well got, sure.

THESEUS , to Arcite

What made you seek this place, sir?

ARCITE

Noble Theseus,
1220To purchase name and do my ablest service
To such a well-found wonder as thy worth;
40For only in thy court, of all the world,
Dwells fair-eyed Honor.

PIRITHOUS

All his words are worthy.

THESEUS

1225Sir, we are much indebted to your travel,
Nor shall you lose your wish.—Pirithous,
45Dispose of this fair gentleman.

PIRITHOUS

Thanks, Theseus.—
Whate’er you are, you’re mine, and I shall give you
1230To a most noble service: to this lady,
This bright young virgin.
He brings Arcite to Emilia.
50Pray observe her goodness;
You have honored her fair birthday with your
virtues,
1235And, as your due, you’re hers. Kiss her fair hand, sir.

ARCITE

Sir, you’re a noble giver.—Dearest beauty,
55Thus let me seal my vowed faith.
He kisses her hand.
When your servant,
Your most unworthy creature, but offends you,
1240Command him die, he shall.

EMILIA

That were too cruel.
60If 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

1245I’ll see you furnished, and because you say
You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you
65This 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

1250Sweet, you must be ready,—
And you, Emilia,—and you, friend,—and all,
70Tomorrow by the sun, to do observance
To flowery May in Dian’s wood.—Wait well, sir,
Upon your mistress.—Emily, I hope
1255He shall not go afoot.

EMILIA

That were a shame, sir,
75While 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
1260You’ll find a loving mistress.

ARCITE

If I do not,
80Let me find that my father ever hated,
Disgrace and blows.

THESEUS

Go lead the way; you have won it.
1265It shall be so; you shall receive all dues
Fit for the honor you have won. ’Twere wrong else.—
85Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a servant
That, if I were a woman, would be master;
But you are wise.

EMILIA

1270I 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
51275Higher 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
101280Durst better have endured cold iron than done it.
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,
151285Some 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.
201290If 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,
251295He 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;
301300For 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
351305I’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

1310The 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,
5Fresher than May, sweeter
1315Than 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
10O’ th’ wood, o’ th’ world, hast likewise blessed a pace
1320With thy sole presence. In thy rumination
That I, poor man, might eftsoons come between
And chop on some cold thought! Thrice blessèd
chance
15To drop on such a mistress, expectation
1325Most 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,
20The prim’st of all the year, presents me with
1330A brace of horses; two such steeds might well
Be by a pair of kings backed, in a field
That their crowns’ titles tried. Alas, alas,
Poor cousin Palamon, poor prisoner, thou
25So little dream’st upon my fortune that
1335Thou 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
30I eared her language, lived in her eye—O coz,
1340What 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
35But owner of a sword. By all oaths in one,
1345I 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
40That ever blood made kin! Call’st thou her thine?
1350I’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,
45And these house clogs away—

ARCITE

1355Dear cousin Palamon—

PALAMON

Cozener Arcite, give me language such
As thou hast showed me feat.

ARCITE

Not finding in
50The circuit of my breast any gross stuff
1360To form me like your blazon holds me to
This gentleness of answer: ’tis your passion
That thus mistakes, the which, to you being enemy,
Cannot to me be kind. Honor and honesty
55I cherish and depend on, howsoe’er
1365You 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
60To clear his own way with the mind and sword
1370Of 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
65Against th’ advice of fear. Sure, of another
1375You 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
70Might justify your manhood; you were called
1380A 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,
75And then they fight like compelled bears—would fly
1385Were 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

80Come up to me;
1390Quit 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
85That Emily is thine, I will forgive
1395The 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
Some news from Earth, they shall get none but this:
90That thou art brave and noble.

ARCITE

1400Be content.
Again betake you to your hawthorn house.
With counsel of the night I will be here
With wholesome viands. These impediments
95Will I file off. You shall have garments and
1405Perfumes 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

100O you heavens, dares any
1410So noble bear a guilty business? None
But only Arcite. Therefore none but Arcite
In this kind is so bold.

ARCITE

Sweet Palamon.

PALAMON

105I do embrace you and your offer; for
1415Your 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.
110Enter your muset, lest this match between ’s
1420Be 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,
115And do the deed with a bent brow. Most certain
1425You 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

120Plainly spoken,
1430Yet pardon me hard language. When I spur
My horse, I chide him not; content and anger
In me have but one face.Wind horns.
Hark, sir, they call
125The scattered to the banquet; you must guess
1435I have an office there.

PALAMON

Sir, your attendance
Cannot please heaven, and I know your office
Unjustly is achieved.

ARCITE

130’Tis a good title.
1440I 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

135But this one word:
1445You are going now to gaze upon my mistress,
For note you, mine she is—

ARCITE

Nay then,—

PALAMON

Nay, pray you,
140You talk of feeding me to breed me strength.
1450You 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
1455After his fancy. ’Tis now well-nigh morning.
No matter; would it were perpetual night,
And darkness lord o’ th’ world. Hark, ’tis a wolf!
5In me hath grief slain fear, and but for one thing,
I care for nothing, and that’s Palamon.
1460I reck not if the wolves would jaw me, so
He had this file. What if I hallowed for him?
I cannot hallow. If I whooped, what then?
10If he not answered, I should call a wolf,
And do him but that service. I have heard
1465Strange 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
15Might call fell things to listen, who have in them
A sense to know a man unarmed and can
1470Smell 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.
20Be bold to ring the bell. How stand I then?
All’s chared when he is gone. No, no, I lie.
1475My 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,
25Should I try death by dozens. I am moped;
Food took I none these two days;
1480Sipped 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,
30Lest I should drown, or stab, or hang myself.
O state of nature, fail together in me,
1485Since 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,
35The moon is down, the crickets chirp, the screech
owl
1490Calls 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.

Scene 3

Enter Arcite with meat, wine, and files.

ARCITE

I should be near the place.—Ho! Cousin Palamon!

PALAMON , within

Arcite?

ARCITE

1495The same. I have brought you food and files.
Come forth and fear not; here’s no Theseus.

Enter Palamon.

PALAMON

5Nor none so honest, Arcite.

ARCITE

That’s no matter.
We’ll argue that hereafter. Come, take courage;
1500You shall not die thus beastly. Here, sir, drink—
I know you are faint—then I’ll talk further with you.

PALAMON

10Arcite, thou mightst now poison me.

ARCITE

I might;
But I must fear you first. Sit down and, good now,
1505No more of these vain parleys. Let us not,
Having our ancient reputation with us,
15Make talk for fools and cowards. To your health.

He drinks.

PALAMON

Do!

ARCITE

Pray sit down, then, and let me entreat you,
1510By all the honesty and honor in you,
No mention of this woman; ’twill disturb us.
20We shall have time enough.

PALAMON

Well, sir, I’ll pledge you.

He drinks.

ARCITE

Drink a good hearty draught; it breeds good blood,
1515man.
Do not you feel it thaw you?

PALAMON

25Stay, I’ll tell you
After a draught or two more.

ARCITE

Spare it not.
1520The Duke has more, coz. Eat now.

PALAMON

Yes.

He eats.

ARCITE

30I am glad
You have so good a stomach.

PALAMON

I am gladder
1525I have so good meat to ’t.

ARCITE

Is ’t not mad lodging
35Here in the wild woods, cousin?

PALAMON

Yes, for them
That have wild consciences.

ARCITE

1530How tastes your
victuals?
40Your hunger needs no sauce, I see.

PALAMON

Not much.
But if it did, yours is too tart, sweet cousin.
1535What is this?

ARCITE

Venison.

PALAMON

45’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.
1540The Lord Steward’s
daughter!
50Do you remember her?

ARCITE

After you, coz.

PALAMON

She loved a black-haired man.

ARCITE

1545She did so; well, sir?

PALAMON

And I have heard some call him Arcite, and—

ARCITE

55Out with ’t, faith.

PALAMON

She met him in an arbor.
What did she there, coz? Play o’ th’ virginals?

ARCITE

1550Something she did, sir.

PALAMON

Made her groan a month
60for ’t—
Or two, or three, or ten.

ARCITE

The Marshal’s sister
1555Had her share, too, as I remember, cousin,
Else there be tales abroad. You’ll pledge her?

PALAMON

65Yes.

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,
1560And a broad beech—and thereby hangs a tale.
Heigh ho!

PALAMON

70For Emily, upon my life! Fool,
Away with this strained mirth. I say again
That sigh was breathed for Emily. Base cousin,
1565Dar’st thou break first?

ARCITE

You are wide.

PALAMON

75By heaven and
Earth,
There’s nothing in thee honest.

ARCITE

1570Then I’ll leave you.
You are a beast now.

PALAMON

80As thou mak’st me, traitor.

ARCITE

There’s all things needful: files and shirts and
perfumes.
1575I’ll come again some two hours hence and bring
That that shall quiet all.

PALAMON

85A sword and armor.

ARCITE

Fear me not. You are now too foul. Farewell.
Get off your trinkets; you shall want naught.

PALAMON

1580Sirrah—

ARCITE

I’ll hear no more.

He exits.

PALAMON

90If 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.
1585The sun has seen my folly.—Palamon!
Alas, no; he’s in heaven. Where am I now?
5Yonder’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,
1590There’s a leak sprung, a sound one! How they cry!
Open her before the wind; you’ll lose all else.
10Up with a course or two, and tack about, boys!
Good night, good night; you’re gone. I am very
hungry.
1595Would I could find a fine frog; he would tell me
News from all parts o’ th’ world; then would I make
15A carrack of a cockleshell, and sail
By east and northeast to the king of pygmies,
For he tells fortunes rarely. Now my father,
1600Twenty to one, is trussed up in a trice
Tomorrow morning. I’ll say never a word.
(Sing.)
20For I’ll cut my green coat a foot above my knee,
And I’ll clip my yellow locks an inch below mine
eye.
1605Hey nonny, nonny, nonny.
He’s buy me a white cut, forth for to ride,
25And I’ll go seek him through the world that is so
wide.
Hey nonny, nonny, nonny.
1610O, 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
1615figure, even the very plum broth and marrow of
5my 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”
1620and “Then let be” and no man understand me? Proh
10deum, 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;
1625he hears, and nods, and hums, and then cries
15“Rare!” and I go forward. At length I fling my cap
up—mark there! Then do you as once did Meleager
and the boar—break comely out before him;
like true lovers, cast yourselves in a body decently,
1630and sweetly, by a figure, trace and turn, boys.

FIRST COUNTRYMAN

20And sweetly we will do it, Master
Gerald.

SECOND COUNTRYMAN

Draw up the company. Where’s
the taborer?

THIRD COUNTRYMAN

1635Why, Timothy!

Enter the Taborer.

TABORER

25Here, 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
1640legs, and bouncing Barbary.

FIRST COUNTRYMAN

30And freckled Nell, that never failed
her master.

SCHOOLMASTER

Where be your ribbons, maids? Swim
with your bodies, and carry it sweetly and deliverly,
1645and now and then a favor and a frisk.

NELL

35Let 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.
1650Where’s the Bavian?—My friend, carry your tail
40without 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

1655Quo usque tandem? Here is a woman
45wanting.

FOURTH COUNTRYMAN

We may go whistle; all the fat’s i’
th’ fire.

SCHOOLMASTER

We have, as learnèd authors utter,
1660washed a tile; we have been fatuus and labored
50vainly.

SECOND COUNTRYMAN

This is that scornful piece, that
scurvy hilding that gave her promise faithfully she
would be here—Cicely, the sempster’s daughter.
1665The next gloves that I give her shall be dogskin;
55nay, 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,
1670will either fail. In manners, this was false
60position.

FIRST COUNTRYMAN

A fire ill take her! Does she flinch
now?

THIRD COUNTRYMAN

What shall we determine, sir?

SCHOOLMASTER

1675Nothing. Our business is become a
65nullity, 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
1680thee!

Enter Jailer’s Daughter.

DAUGHTER , sings

70The 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.
1685“Well hailed, well hailed, you jolly gallants,
75And 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 1690The one he said it was an owl,
80The other he said nay,
The third he said it was a hawk,
And her bells were cut away.

THIRD COUNTRYMAN

There’s a dainty madwoman, master,
1695comes i’ th’ nick, as mad as a March hare. If we
85can 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,
1700good woman?

DAUGHTER

90I 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.
1705Buzz!—Friend, you must eat no white bread; if
95you 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

1710Or a conjurer. Raise me a devil now, and let
100him play 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

1715Come, lass, let’s trip it.

DAUGHTER

105I’ll lead.

THIRD COUNTRYMAN

Do, do!

SCHOOLMASTER

Persuasively, and cunningly.
Wind horns.
Away, boys! I hear the horns. Give me some
1720meditation, and mark your cue.
All but Schoolmaster exit.
110Pallas, inspire me!

Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia, and train.

THESEUS

This way the stag took.

SCHOOLMASTER

Stay, and edify!

THESEUS

What have we here?

PIRITHOUS

1725Some country sport, upon my life, sir.

THESEUS , to Schoolmaster

115Well, 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

1730This is a cold beginning.

SCHOOLMASTER

120If 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,
1735We are a merry rout, or else a rabble,
125Or 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
1740The birch upon the breeches of the small ones,
130And 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,
1745Is blown abroad, help me, thy poor well-willer,
135And 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.
1750The body of our sport, of no small study,
140I 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,
1755The Chambermaid and Servingman by night
145That seek out silent hanging; then mine Host
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;
1760Then the beest-eating Clown; and next the Fool,
150The 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

1765Produce!

SCHOOLMASTER

155Intrate, 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,
1770Say the Schoolmaster’s no clown.—
160Duke, 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,
1775Ere another year run out,
165We’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,
1780And, for a preface, I never heard a better.

THESEUS

170Schoolmaster, I thank you.—One see ’em all
rewarded.

An Attendant gives money.

PIRITHOUS

And here’s something to paint your pole withal.

He gives money.

THESEUS

Now to our sports again.

SCHOOLMASTER

1785May the stag thou hunt’st stand long,
175And 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,
1790You 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,
51795I 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
101800To 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
151805Shall be the last; and that sword he refuses,
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

201810I 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
251815As 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

301820Then 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
351825And 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,
401830Fitter 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,
451835cousin,
And ev’ry day discourse you into health,
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,
501840And 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

551845Wilt 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

601850That’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.
651855This 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,
701860Where 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

751865I have worn a lighter,
But I shall make it serve.

ARCITE

I’ll buckle ’t close.

PALAMON

By any means.

ARCITE

You care not for a grand guard?

PALAMON

801870No, 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

851875I 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.
901880Prithee 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

951885Do, 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

1001890That 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,
I spurred hard to come up, and under me
1051895I 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,
1101900Nor 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,
1151905Methought 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

1201910No, 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

1251915Take 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.
1301920Is 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
Is in my hand, and if thou kill’st me,
1351925The 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
1401930Come 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

1451935Farewell, 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,
1501940For 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,
1551945For 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
1601950This 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—

ARCITE

You are not mad?

PALAMON

1651955Or 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

1701960Then 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

1751965Look 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?
1801970By 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.
1851975Think 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,
1901980Against 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
I am; and, which is more, dares think her his.
1951985This 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,
2001990Do 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

2051995We 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,
2102000Let 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,
2152005As 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,”
2202010I 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,
2252015Whose 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.

THESEUS

I grant your wish, for to say true, your cousin
2302020Has 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,
2352025Speak 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.
2402030The 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.
2452035Most 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

2502040By 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

2552045Nay, then, I’ll in too.
He kneels.
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

2602050By 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

2652055Next hear my prayers—

EMILIA

Last let me entreat, sir—

PIRITHOUS

For mercy.

HIPPOLYTA

Mercy.

EMILIA

Mercy on these princes.

THESEUS

2702060You 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.
2752065If 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
2802070In 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.
Better they fall by th’ law than one another.
Bow not my honor.

EMILIA

2852075O, 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,
2902080Of 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
2952085Fit 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
3002090Might 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
3052095Because 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
3102100Despise 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
3152105To make me their contention, or to know me,
To tread upon thy dukedom, and to be,
Wherever they shall travel, ever strangers
To one another.

PALAMON

I’ll be cut a-pieces
3202110Before 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,
3252115And for that love must and dare kill this cousin
On any piece the Earth has.

THESEUS

Will you, Arcite,
Take these conditions?

PALAMON

He’s a villain, then.

PIRITHOUS

3302120These 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,
3352125Make 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
3402130Content 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.
3452135I give consent.—Are you content too, princes?

BOTH

With all our souls.

THESEUS

He that she refuses
Must die then.

BOTH

Any death thou canst invent, duke.

PALAMON

3502140If 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

3552145I 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,
3602150Or 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
3652155By 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

3702160Yes.—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,
3752165Else both miscarry.

THESEUS , to Palamon and Arcite

Come, shake hands again, then,
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

3802170Come, 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
2175Concerning the escape of Palamon?
Good sir, remember!

FIRST FRIEND

Nothing that I heard,
5For I came home before the business
Was fully ended. Yet I might perceive,
2180Ere I departed, a great likelihood
Of both their pardons; for Hippolyta
And fair-eyed Emily, upon their knees,
10Begged with such handsome pity that the Duke,
Methought, stood staggering whether he should
2185follow
His rash oath or the sweet compassion
Of those two ladies. And, to second them,
15That truly noble prince, Pirithous—
Half his own heart—set in too, that I hope
2190All shall be well. Neither heard I one question
Of your name or his ’scape.

JAILER

Pray heaven it hold so.

Enter Second Friend.

SECOND FRIEND

20Be of good comfort, man; I bring you news,
Good news.

JAILER

2195They are welcome.

SECOND FRIEND

Palamon has cleared
you
25And got your pardon, and discovered how
And by whose means he escaped, which was your
2200daughter’s,
Whose pardon is procured too; and the prisoner,
Not to be held ungrateful to her goodness,
30Has given a sum of money to her marriage—
A large one, I’ll assure you.

JAILER

2205You are a good man
And ever bring good news.

FIRST FRIEND

How was it ended?

SECOND FRIEND

35Why, as it should be: they that ne’er begged
But they prevailed had their suits fairly granted;
2210The prisoners have their lives.

FIRST FRIEND

I knew ’twould be so.

SECOND FRIEND

But there be new conditions, which you’ll hear of
40At better time.

JAILER

I hope they are good.

SECOND FRIEND

2215They are
honorable;
How good they’ll prove I know not.

FIRST FRIEND

45’Twill be known.

Enter Wooer.

WOOER

Alas, sir, where’s your daughter?

JAILER

2220Why do you ask?

WOOER

O, sir, when did you see her?

SECOND FRIEND , aside

How he looks!

JAILER

50This morning.

WOOER

Was she well? Was she in health?
2225Sir, when did she sleep?

FIRST FRIEND , aside

These are strange questions.

JAILER

I do not think she was very well—for now
55You make me mind her; but this very day
I asked her questions, and she answered me
2230So far from what she was, so childishly,
So sillily, as if she were a fool,
An innocent, and I was very angry.
60But what of her, sir?

WOOER

Nothing but my pity;
2235But you must know it, and as good by me
As by another that less loves her.

JAILER

Well, sir?

WOOER

65No, sir, not well.

FIRST FRIEND

Not right?

SECOND FRIEND

2240Not well?

WOOER

’Tis too true; she is mad.

FIRST FRIEND

It cannot be.

WOOER

70Believe you’ll find it so.

JAILER

I half suspected
2245What you told me. The gods comfort her!
Either this was her love to Palamon,
Or fear of my miscarrying on his ’scape,
75Or both.

WOOER

’Tis likely.

JAILER

2250But why all this haste, sir?

WOOER

I’ll tell you quickly. As I late was angling
In the great lake that lies behind the palace,
80From the far shore—thick set with reeds and
sedges—
2255As patiently I was attending sport,
I heard a voice, a shrill one; and, attentive,
I gave my ear, when I might well perceive
85’Twas one that sung, and by the smallness of it
A boy or woman. I then left my angle
2260To 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
90And listened to the words she sung, for then,
Through a small glade cut by the fishermen,
2265I saw it was your daughter.

JAILER

Pray go on, sir.

WOOER

She sung much, but no sense; only I heard her
95Repeat this often: “Palamon is gone,
Is gone to th’ wood to gather mulberries;
2270I’ll find him out tomorrow.”

FIRST FRIEND

Pretty soul!

WOOER

“His shackles will betray him; he’ll be taken,
100And what shall I do then? I’ll bring a bevy,
A hundred black-eyed maids that love as I do,
2275With chaplets on their heads of daffadillies,
With cherry lips and cheeks of damask roses,
And all we’ll dance an antic ’fore the Duke,
105And beg his pardon.” Then she talked of you, sir—
That you must lose your head tomorrow morning,
2280And she must gather flowers to bury you,
And see the house made handsome. Then she sung
Nothing but “Willow, willow, willow,” and between
110Ever was “Palamon, fair Palamon,”
And “Palamon was a tall young man.” The place
2285Was knee-deep where she sat; her careless tresses,
A wreath of bulrush rounded; about her stuck
Thousand freshwater flowers of several colors,
115That methought she appeared like the fair nymph
That feeds the lake with waters, or as Iris
2290Newly 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,”
120“This you may lose, not me,” and many a one;
And then she wept, and sung again, and sighed,
2295And with the same breath smiled and kissed her
hand.

SECOND FRIEND

Alas, what pity it is!

WOOER

125I made in to her.
She saw me, and straight sought the flood. I saved
2300her
And set her safe to land, when presently
She slipped away, and to the city made
130With such a cry and swiftness that, believe me,
She left me far behind her. Three or four
2305I 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
135And hither came to tell you.

Enter Jailer’s Brother, Jailer’s Daughter, and others.

Here they are.

DAUGHTER , sings

2310May you never more enjoy the light, etc.
Is not this a fine song?

BROTHER

O, a very fine one.

DAUGHTER

140I can sing twenty more.

BROTHER

I think you can.

DAUGHTER

2315Yes, truly can I. I can sing
and Are not you a tailor?

BROTHER

Yes.

DAUGHTER

145Where’s my wedding gown?

BROTHER

I’ll bring it tomorrow.

DAUGHTER

2320Do, 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
150thrive else.
Sings.O fair, O sweet, etc.

BROTHER , to Jailer

2325You must e’en take it patiently.

JAILER

’Tis true.

DAUGHTER

Good e’en, good men. Pray, did you ever
155hear of one young Palamon?

JAILER

Yes, wench, we know him.

DAUGHTER

2330Is ’t not a fine young gentleman?

JAILER

’Tis, love.

BROTHER , aside to others

By no mean cross her; she
160is then distempered far worse than now she
shows.

FIRST FRIEND , to Daughter

2335Yes, he’s a fine man.

DAUGHTER

O , is he so? You have a sister.

FIRST FRIEND

Yes.

DAUGHTER

165But she shall never have him—tell her so—
for a trick that I know; you’d best look to her, for
2340if 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
170let ’em all alone. Is ’t not a wise course?

FIRST FRIEND

Yes.

DAUGHTER

2345There 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
175boys—he has the trick on ’t—and at ten years old
they must be all gelt for musicians and sing the
2350wars of Theseus.

SECOND FRIEND

This is strange.

DAUGHTER

As ever you heard, but say nothing.

FIRST FRIEND

180No.

DAUGHTER

They come from all parts of the dukedom
2355to 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

185She’s lost past all cure.

BROTHER

Heaven forbid, man!

DAUGHTER , to Jailer

2360Come hither; you are a wise
man.

FIRST FRIEND , aside

Does she know him?

SECOND FRIEND

190No; would she did.

DAUGHTER

You are master of a ship?

JAILER

2365Yes.

DAUGHTER

Where’s your compass?

JAILER

Here.

DAUGHTER

195Set it to th’ north. And now direct your
course to th’ wood, where Palamon lies longing for
2370me. For the tackling, let me alone.—Come, weigh,
my hearts, cheerly.

ALL , as if sailing a ship

Owgh, owgh, owgh!—’Tis up!
200The wind’s fair!—Top the bowline!—Out with the
main sail! Where’s your whistle, master?

BROTHER

2375Let’s get her in!

JAILER

Up to the top, boy!

BROTHER

Where’s the pilot?

FIRST FRIEND

205Here.

DAUGHTER

What kenn’st thou?

SECOND FRIEND

2380A fair wood.

DAUGHTER

Bear for it, master. Tack about!
Sings.
When Cynthia with her borrowed light, etc.

They exit.

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,
2385And end their strife. Two such young handsome men
Shall never fall for me; their weeping mothers,
5Following the dead cold ashes of their sons,
Shall never curse my cruelty.
Looks at one of the pictures.
Good heaven,
2390What a sweet face has Arcite! If wise Nature,
With all her best endowments, all those beauties
10She sows into the births of noble bodies,
Were here a mortal woman, and had in her
The coy denials of young maids, yet doubtless
2395She would run mad for this man. What an eye,
Of what a fiery sparkle and quick sweetness,
15Has this young prince! Here Love himself sits
smiling;
Just such another wanton Ganymede
2400Set Jove afire with, and enforced the god
Snatch up the goodly boy and set him by him,
20A shining constellation. What a brow,
Of what a spacious majesty, he carries,
Arched like the great-eyed Juno’s but far sweeter,
2405Smoother than Pelops’ shoulder! Fame and Honor,
Methinks, from hence as from a promontory
25Pointed 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.
2410Palamon
Is but his foil, to him a mere dull shadow;
30He’s swart and meager, of an eye as heavy
As if he had lost his mother; a still temper,
No stirring in him, no alacrity;
2415Of all this sprightly sharpness not a smile.
Yet these that we count errors may become him;
35Narcissus 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;
2420I have no choice, and I have lied so lewdly
That women ought to beat me. On my knees
40I ask thy pardon: Palamon, thou art alone
And only beautiful, and these the eyes,
These the bright lamps of beauty, that command
2425And threaten love, and what young maid dare cross
’em?
45What 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.
2430Thou art a changeling to him, a mere gypsy,
And this the noble body. I am sotted,
50Utterly 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.
2435Now, if my sister, more for Palamon.
Stand both together. Now, come ask me, brother.
55Alas, 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,
2440Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both.

Enter a Gentleman.

How now, sir?

GENTLEMAN

60From the noble duke, your brother,
Madam, I bring you news: the knights are come.

EMILIA

To end the quarrel?

GENTLEMAN

2445Yes.

EMILIA

Would I might end first!
65What sins have I committed, chaste Diana,
That my unspotted youth must now be soiled
With blood of princes, and my chastity
2450Be made the altar where the lives of lovers—
Two greater and two better never yet
70Made mothers joy—must be the sacrifice
To my unhappy beauty?

Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous and Attendants.

THESEUS , to Attendant

Bring ’em in
2455Quickly, by any means; I long to see ’em.
To Emilia. Your two contending lovers are
75returned,
And with them their fair knights. Now, my fair
sister,
2460You must love one of them.

EMILIA

I had rather both,
80So neither for my sake should fall untimely.

THESEUS

Who saw ’em?

PIRITHOUS

I awhile.

GENTLEMAN

2465And I.

Enter a Messenger.

THESEUS

From whence come you, sir?

MESSENGER

85From the knights.

THESEUS

Pray
speak,
2470You that have seen them, what they are.

MESSENGER

I will, sir,
90And truly what I think. Six braver spirits
Than these they have brought, if we judge by the
outside,
2475I never saw nor read of. He that stands
In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming,
95Should 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—
2480Which shows him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers;
The circles of his eyes show fire within him,
100And as a heated lion, so he looks.
His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining
Like ravens’ wings; his shoulders broad and strong,
2485Armed long and round; and on his thigh a sword
Hung by a curious baldric, when he frowns
105To seal his will with. Better, o’ my conscience,
Was never soldier’s friend.

THESEUS

Thou hast well described him.

PIRITHOUS

2490Yet a great
deal short,
110Methinks, of him that’s first with Palamon.

THESEUS

Pray speak him, friend.

PIRITHOUS

I guess he is a prince too,
2495And, if it may be, greater; for his show
Has all the ornament of honor in ’t:
115He’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
2500Without doubt what he fights for, and so apter
To make this cause his own. In ’s face appears
120All the fair hopes of what he undertakes,
And when he’s angry, then a settled valor,
Not tainted with extremes, runs through his body
2505And guides his arm to brave things. Fear he cannot;
He shows no such soft temper. His head’s yellow,
125Hard-haired and curled, thick-twined like ivy tods,
Not to undo with thunder. In his face
The livery of the warlike maid appears,
2510Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blessed him.
And in his rolling eyes sits Victory,
130As 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

2515Must these men die too?

PIRITHOUS

When he speaks, his tongue
135Sounds 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;
2520His age some five-and-twenty.

MESSENGER

There’s another—
140A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming
As great as any; fairer promises
In such a body yet I never looked on.

PIRITHOUS

2525O, he that’s freckle-faced?

MESSENGER

The same, my lord.
145Are they not sweet ones?

PIRITHOUS

Yes, they are well.

MESSENGER

Methinks,
2530Being so few, and well disposed, they show
Great and fine art in nature. He’s white-haired—
150Not wanton white, but such a manly color
Next to an auburn; tough and nimble-set,
Which shows an active soul. His arms are brawny,
2535Lined with strong sinews—to the shoulder-piece
Gently they swell, like women new-conceived,
155Which 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,
2540Which yields compassion where he conquers; sharp
To spy advantages, and where he finds ’em,
160He’s swift to make ’em his. He does no wrongs,
Nor takes none. He’s round-faced, and when he
smiles
2545He shows a lover; when he frowns, a soldier.
About his head he wears the winner’s oak,
165And 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

2550Are they all thus?

PIRITHOUS

They are all the sons of honor.

THESEUS

170Now, as I have a soul, I long to see ’em.—
Lady, you shall see men fight now.

HIPPOLYTA

I wish it,
2555But not the cause, my lord. They would show
Bravely about the titles of two kingdoms;
175’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

2560You have steeled ’em with your beauty. (To
Pirithous.) Honored friend,
180To you I give the field; pray order it
Fitting the persons that must use it.

PIRITHOUS

Yes, sir.

THESEUS

2565Come, I’ll go visit ’em. I cannot stay—
Their fame has fired me so—till they appear.
185Good friend, be royal.

PIRITHOUS

There shall want no bravery.

All but Emilia exit.

EMILIA

Poor wench, go weep, for whosoever wins
2570Loses a noble cousin for thy sins.

She exits.

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
52575drinking, dreaming of another world, and a better;
and what broken piece of matter soe’er she’s about,
the name 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
102580behavior.

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
152585the 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

202590Now 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,
252595cracked 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
302600further.

DAUGHTER

Faith, I’ll tell you, sometime we go to
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,
352605they 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
402610gammon 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
452615there 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

502620How 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
552625good 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

602630What 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
652635ere she beheld Palamon?

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
702640she 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,
752645but 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
802650her, 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
852655Palamon 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
902660sing, 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
952665repair to her with 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
1002670her into their former law and regiment. I have seen
it approved, how many times I know not, but to
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
1052675and 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
2680In hallowed clouds commend their swelling incense
5To 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

2685You valiant and strong-hearted enemies,
10You 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,
2690The all-feared gods, bow down your stubborn
15bodies.
Your ire is more than mortal; so your help be.
And as the gods regard you, fight with justice.
I’ll leave you to your prayers, and betwixt you
2695I part my wishes.

PIRITHOUS

20Honor 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
2700Mine enemy in this business, were ’t one eye
25Against 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

2705I am in labor
30To 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
2710The heavenly Limiter pleases.

PALAMON

35You speak well.
Before I turn, let me embrace thee, cousin.
They embrace.
This I shall never do again.

ARCITE

One farewell.

PALAMON

2715Why, let it be so. Farewell, coz.

ARCITE

40Farewell, 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
2720Which still is father of it, go with me
45Before 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;
2725Else wish we to be snails. You know my prize
50Must 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
2730Brimmed with the blood of men. Give me your aid,
55And 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
2735Unearthèd skulls proclaim, whose breath blows
60down
The teeming Ceres’ foison, who dost pluck
With hand armipotent from forth blue clouds
The masoned turrets, that both mak’st and break’st
2740The stony girths of cities; me thy pupil,
65Youngest 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,
2745Some 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.
70O, 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 when it is sick, and cur’st the world
2750O’ th’ pleurisy of people, I do take
75Thy signs auspiciously, and in thy name
To my design march boldly.—Let us go.

They exit.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,
2755Which, if the goddess of it grant, she gives
80Victory 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
2760Her power unto our party.
Here they go to Venus’s altar, fall on
their faces before it, and then kneel.
85Hail, 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
2765And turn th’ alarm to whispers; that canst make
90A 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,
2770Whose youth, like wanton boys through bonfires,
95Have 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
2775Add’st flames hotter than his; the heavenly fires
100Did 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
2780As ’twere a wreath of roses, yet is heavier
105Than lead itself, stings more than nettles.
I have never been foul-mouthed against thy law,
Ne’er revealed secret, for I knew none—would not,
Had I kenned all that were. I never practiced
2785Upon man’s wife, nor would the libels read
110Of 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
2790If they had mothers—I had one, a woman,
115And 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
2795Had screwed his square foot round;
120The 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
2800Had by his young fair fere a boy, and I
125Believed 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;
2805To those that would and cannot, a rejoicer.
130Yea, 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
2810Truer than I. O, then, most soft sweet goddess,
135Give 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
2815In mortal bosoms, whose chase is this world
140And 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
2820And bow before the goddess.They rise and bow.
145Time 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
2825As wind-fanned snow, who to thy female knights
150Allow’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
2830Beheld thing maculate, look on thy virgin,
155And, 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
2835Of vestal office. I am bride-habited
160But 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,
2840Were I to lose one—they are equal precious—
165I could doom neither; that which perished should
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
2845Take off my wheaten garland, or else grant
170The 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
2850With sacred act advances: but one rose.
175If 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,
2855Thou here dischargest me. I shall be gathered;
180I 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

2860O, 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,
5And asked me what I would eat, and when I would
kiss her.
2865I told her “Presently,” and kissed her twice.

DOCTOR

’Twas well done; twenty times had been far better,
For there the cure lies mainly.

WOOER

10Then she told me
She would watch with me tonight, for well she knew
2870What hour my fit would take me.

DOCTOR

Let her do so,
And when your fit comes, fit her home,
15And presently.

WOOER

She would have me sing.

DOCTOR

2875You did so?

WOOER

No.

DOCTOR

’Twas very ill done, then.
20You should observe her ev’ry way.

WOOER

Alas,
2880I 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.
25Lie with her, if she ask you.

JAILER

Ho there, doctor!

DOCTOR

2885Yes, in the way of cure.

JAILER

But first, by your leave,
I’ th’ way of honesty.

DOCTOR

30That’s but a niceness.
Ne’er cast your child away for honesty.
2890Cure her first this way; then if she will be honest,
She has the path before her.

JAILER

Thank you, doctor.

DOCTOR

35Pray bring her in
And let’s see how she is.

JAILER

2895I will, and tell her
Her Palamon stays for her. But, doctor,
Methinks you are i’ th’ wrong still.

Jailer exits.

DOCTOR

40Go, go.
You fathers are fine fools. Her honesty?
2900And 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

45She’s eighteen.

DOCTOR

She may be.
2905But 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,
50Videlicet, the way of flesh—you have me?

WOOER

Yes, very well, sir.

DOCTOR

2910Please her appetite,
And do it home; it cures her, ipso facto,
The melancholy humor that infects her.

WOOER

55I am of your mind, doctor.

DOCTOR

You’ll find it so.

Enter Jailer, Daughter, and Maid.

2915She 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

60I thank him for his gentle patience.
He’s a kind gentleman, and I am much bound to
2920him.
Did you ne’er see the horse he gave me?

JAILER

Yes.

DAUGHTER

65How do you like him?

JAILER

He’s a very fair one.

DAUGHTER

2925You never saw him dance?

JAILER

No.

DAUGHTER

I have, often.
70He dances very finely, very comely,
And for a jig, come cut and long tail to him,
2930He turns you like a top.

JAILER

That’s fine indeed.

DAUGHTER

He’ll dance the morris twenty mile an hour,
75And that will founder the best hobbyhorse,
If I have any skill, in all the parish,
2935And gallops to the tune of
What think you of this horse?

JAILER

Having these virtues,
80I think he might be brought to play at tennis.

DAUGHTER

Alas, that’s nothing.

JAILER

2940Can he write and read too?

DAUGHTER

A very fair hand, and casts himself th’ accounts
Of all his hay and provender. That hostler
85Must rise betime that cozens him. You know
The chestnut mare the Duke has?

JAILER

2945Very well.

DAUGHTER

She is horribly in love with him, poor beast,
But he is like his master, coy and scornful.

JAILER

90What dowry has she?

DAUGHTER

Some two hundred bottles,
2950And 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

95What stuff she utters!

Wooer and Doctor come forward.

JAILER

Make curtsy; here your love comes.

WOOER

2955Pretty soul,
How do you?Daughter curtsies.
That’s a fine maid; there’s a curtsy!

DAUGHTER

100Yours to command i’ th’ way of honesty.—
How far is ’t now to th’ end o’ th’ world, my masters?

DOCTOR

2960Why, a day’s journey, wench.

DAUGHTER , to Wooer

Will you go with me?

WOOER

What shall we do there, wench?

DAUGHTER

105Why, play at
stool-ball.
2965What is there else to do?

WOOER

I am content,
If we shall keep our wedding there.

DAUGHTER

110’Tis true,
For there, I will assure you, we shall find
2970Some 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,
115And that would be a blot i’ th’ business.
Are not you Palamon?

WOOER

2975Do not you know me?

DAUGHTER

Yes, but you care not for me; I have nothing
But this poor petticoat and two coarse smocks.

WOOER

120That’s all one; I will have you.

DAUGHTER

Will you surely?

WOOER , taking her hand

2980Yes, 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

125O , sir, you would fain
be nibbling.

WOOER

2985Why do you rub my kiss off?

DAUGHTER

’Tis a sweet one,
And will perfume me finely against the wedding.
130Is not this your cousin Arcite?

She indicates Doctor.

DOCTOR

Yes, sweetheart,
2990And I am glad my cousin Palamon
Has made so fair a choice.

DAUGHTER

Do you think he’ll have me?

DOCTOR

135Yes, without doubt.

DAUGHTER , to Jailer

Do you think so too?

JAILER

2995Yes.

DAUGHTER

We shall have many children. (To Doctor.) Lord,
how you’re grown!
140My Palamon, I hope, will grow too, finely,
Now he’s at liberty. Alas, poor chicken,
3000He was kept down with hard meat and ill lodging,
But I’ll kiss him up again.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER

What do you here? You’ll lose the noblest sight
145That e’er was seen.

JAILER

Are they i’ th’ field?

MESSENGER

3005They are.
You bear a charge there too.

JAILER

I’ll away straight.—
150I must e’en leave you here.

DOCTOR

Nay, we’ll go with you.
3010I 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
155I’ll make her right again.Jailer and Messenger exit.
(To Wooer.) You must not from her,
3015But still preserve her in this way.

WOOER

I will.

DOCTOR

Let’s get her in.

WOOER

160Come, sweet, we’ll go to dinner
And then we’ll play at cards.

DAUGHTER

3020And shall we kiss too?

WOOER

A hundred times.

DAUGHTER

And twenty.

WOOER

165Ay, and twenty.

DAUGHTER

And then we’ll sleep together.

DOCTOR , to Wooer

3025Take her offer.

WOOER

Yes, marry, will we.

DAUGHTER

But you shall not hurt me.

WOOER

170I will not, sweet.

DAUGHTER

If you do, love, I’ll cry.

They exit.

Scene 3

Flourish. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta,
Emilia, Pirithous, and some Attendants.

EMILIA

3030I’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
5Threats a brave life; each stroke laments
3035The 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
10No deafing but to hear; not taint mine eye
3040With dread sights it may shun.

PIRITHOUS , to Theseus

Sir, my good lord,
Your sister will no further.

THESEUS

O, she must.
15She shall see deeds of honor in their kind,
3045Which 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
20To crown the question’s title.

EMILIA

3050Pardon me.
If I were there, I’d wink.

THESEUS

You must be there;
This trial is as ’twere i’ th’ night, and you
25The only star to shine.

EMILIA

3055I 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
30Of many mortal millions, may even now,
3060By 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

35You must go.

EMILIA

3065In 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
40To give the service pay.

EMILIA

3070Sir, pardon me.
The title of a kingdom may be tried
Out of itself.

THESEUS

Well, well, then; at your pleasure.
45Those that remain with you could wish their office
3075To 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
50Do of the two know best, I pray them he
3080Be 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
55Are bedfellows in his visage. Palamon
3085Has 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
60Will dwell upon his object. Melancholy
3090Becomes him nobly; so does Arcite’s mirth;
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
65Stick misbecomingly on others, on them
3095Live 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
70The spoiling of his figure. O, what pity
3100Enough 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
75Which craved that very time.
Cornets. A great cry and noise
within crying “À Palamon!”
3105It is much better
I am not there. O, better never born
Than minister to such harm!

Enter Servant.

What is the chance?

SERVANT

80The cry’s “À Palamon.”

EMILIA

3110Then 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

85Still “Palamon.”

EMILIA

3115Run and inquire.Servant exits.
Addressing Arcite’s picture. Poor servant, thou hast
lost.
Upon my right side still I wore thy picture,
90Palamon’s on the left—why so, I know not.
3120I 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
95Is sure th’ end o’ th’ combat.

Enter Servant.

SERVANT

3125They 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
100The two bold titlers at this instant are
3130Hand 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,
105Their nobleness peculiar to them, gives
3135The prejudice of disparity, value’s shortness,
To any lady breathing.
Cornets. Cry within, “Arcite, Arcite.”
More exulting?
“Palamon” still?

SERVANT

110Nay, now the sound is “Arcite.”

EMILIA

3140I 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!”
115The combat’s consummation is proclaimed
3145By 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
120No more be hid in him than fire in flax,
3150Than 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
125When oft our fancies are. They are coming off.
3155Alas, 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
130Have given you this knight; he is a good one
3160As 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,
135To buy you I have lost what’s dearest to me
3165Save 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
140Did spur a noble steed. Surely the gods
3170Would 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
145Each part of him to th’ all I have spoke, your Arcite
3175Did 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,
150Anon the other, then again the first,
3180And by-and-by out-breasted, that the sense
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
155With joy that you have won.—For the subdued,
3185Give 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;
160I know you will not lose her.—Hippolyta,
3190I 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?
165But that your wills have said it must be so,
3195And 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

170Infinite pity
3200That 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
3205Stands many a father with his child. Some comfort
We have by so considering. We expire,
5And not without men’s pity. To live still,
Have their good wishes; we prevent
The loathsome misery of age, beguile
3210The gout and rheum that in lag hours attend
For gray approachers; we come towards the gods
10Young and unwappered, not halting under crimes
Many and stale. That sure shall please the gods
Sooner than such, to give us nectar with ’em,
3215For we are more clear spirits. My dear kinsmen,
Whose lives for this poor comfort are laid down,
15You have sold ’em too too cheap.

FIRST KNIGHT

What ending could be
Of more content? O’er us the victors have
3220Fortune, whose title is as momentary
As to us death is certain. A grain of honor
20They not o’er-weigh us.

SECOND KNIGHT

Let us bid farewell;
And with our patience anger tott’ring Fortune,
3225Who at her certain’st reels.

THIRD KNIGHT

Come, who begins?

PALAMON

25E’en he that led you to this banquet shall
Taste to you all. To Jailer. Ah ha, my friend, my
friend,
3230Your gentle daughter gave me freedom once;
You’ll see ’t done now forever. Pray, how does she?
30I heard she was not well; her kind of ill
Gave me some sorrow.

JAILER

Sir, she’s well restored,
3235And to be married shortly.

PALAMON

By my short life,
35I 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,
3240Tender her this.

He gives his purse to Jailer.

FIRST KNIGHT

Nay, let’s be offerers all.

SECOND KNIGHT

40Is it a maid?

PALAMON

Verily, I think so.
A right good creature, more to me deserving
3245Than I can quit or speak of.

ALL KNIGHTS

Commend us to her.

They give their purses.

JAILER

45The 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

3250Lead, courageous cousin.

SECOND AND THIRD KNIGHTS

We’ll follow cheerfully.

A great noise within crying “Run!” “Save!” “Hold!”
Enter in haste a Messenger.

MESSENGER

50Hold, 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,
3255The gods will show their glory in a life
That thou art yet to lead.

PALAMON

55Can that be,
When Venus, I have said, is false? How do things
fare?

PIRITHOUS

3260Arise, great sir, and give the tidings ear
That are most dearly sweet and bitter.

PALAMON , rising

60What
Hath waked us from our dream?

PIRITHOUS

List then: your
3265cousin,
Mounted upon a steed that Emily
65Did 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
3270His goodness with this note, which superstition
Here finds allowance—on this horse is Arcite
70Trotting 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
3275To put pride in him. As he thus went counting
The flinty pavement, dancing, as ’twere, to th’ music
75His own hooves made—for, as they say, from iron
Came music’s origin—what envious flint,
Cold as old Saturn, and like him possessed
3280With fire malevolent, darted a spark,
Or what fierce sulphur else, to this end made,
80I 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,
3285Forgets school-doing, being therein trained
And of kind manage. Pig-like he whines
85At the sharp rowel, which he frets at rather
Than any jot obeys; seeks all foul means
Of boist’rous and rough jadery to disseat
3290His lord that kept it bravely. When naught served,
When neither curb would crack, girth break, nor
90diff’ring plunges
Disroot his rider whence he grew, but that
He kept him ’tween his legs, on his hind hoofs
3295On end he stands
That Arcite’s legs, being higher than his head,
95Seemed 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
3300Becomes the rider’s load. Yet is he living,
But such a vessel ’tis that floats but for
100The 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!
3305The gods are mighty, Arcite. If thy heart,
Thy worthy, manly heart, be yet unbroken,
105Give me thy last words. I am Palamon,
One that yet loves thee dying.

ARCITE

Take Emilia
3310And with her all the world’s joy. Reach thy hand;
Farewell. I have told my last hour. I was false,
110Yet never treacherous. Forgive me, cousin.
One kiss from fair Emilia.She kisses him.
’Tis done.
3315Take her. I die.

He dies.

PALAMON

Thy brave soul seek Elysium!

EMILIA

115I’ll close thine eyes, prince. Blessed souls be with
thee!
Thou art a right good man, and while I live,
3320This day I give to tears.

PALAMON

And I to honor.

THESEUS

120In this place first you fought; e’en very here
I sundered you. Acknowledge to the gods
Our thanks that you are living.
3325His part is played, and though it were too short,
He did it well. Your day is lengthened, and
125The blissful dew of heaven does arrouse you.
The powerful Venus well hath graced her altar,
And given you your love. Our master, Mars,
3330Hath vouched his oracle, and to Arcite gave
The grace of the contention. So the deities
130Have showed due justice.—Bear this hence.

PALAMON

O cousin,
That we should things desire which do cost us
3335The loss of our desire, that naught could buy
Dear love but loss of dear love.

Arcite’s body is carried out.

THESEUS

135Never Fortune
Did play a subtler game. The conquered triumphs;
The victor has the loss; yet in the passage
3340The gods have been most equal.—Palamon,
Your kinsman hath confessed the right o’ th’ lady
140Did 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
3345To send him hence forgiven. The gods my justice
Take from my hand and they themselves become
145The executioners. Lead your lady off,
And call your lovers from the stage of death,
Whom I adopt my friends. A day or two
3350Let us look sadly, and give grace unto
The funeral of Arcite, in whose end
150The visages of bridegrooms we’ll put on
And smile with Palamon—for whom an hour,
But one hour since, I was as dearly sorry
3355As glad of Arcite, and am now as glad
As for him sorry. O you heavenly charmers,
155What 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
3360For that which is, and with you leave dispute
That are above our question. Let’s go off
160And 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.
3365I am cruel fearful! Pray yet, stay a while,
And let me look upon you. No man smile?
5Then it goes hard, I see. He that has
Loved a young handsome wench, then, show his
face—
3370’Tis strange if none be here—and, if he will,
Against his conscience let him hiss and kill
10Our market. ’Tis in vain, I see, to stay you.
Have at the worst can come, then! Now what say
you?
3375And yet mistake me not: I am not bold.
We have no such cause. If the tale we have told—
15For ’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,
3380I dare say, many a better, to prolong
Your old loves to us. We, and all our might,
20Rest at your service. Gentlemen, good night.

Flourish. He exits.