Thou shalt know, Palamon, I dare as well Pul. Look to thine own well, Arcite! [Fight again. Horns. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLITA, EMILIA, PERITHOUS, and train. Thes. What ignorant and mad malicious trai tors Are you, that, 'gainst the tenor of my laws, Pal. Hold thy word, Theseus! A bolder traitor never trod thy ground, thee, And what thou dar'st do; and in this disguise, Say, Fight again!' and thou shalt see me, The Let me say thus much: If in love be treason, Pal. Thou shalt have pity of us both, oh, If unto neither thou shew mercy; stop, Has ten times more offended, for I gave him More mercy than you found, sir, your offences Being no more than his. None here speak for 'em! For ere the sun set, both shall sleep for ever. Hip. Alas, the pity!-now or never, sister, Emi. In my face, dear sister, I find no anger to 'em, nor no ruin; My knees shall grow to the ground but I'll get Hip. By valour, By all the chaste nights I have ever pleas'd you— Thes. These are strange conjurings! Per. Nay, then I'll in too: By all our friendship, sir, by all our dangers, Hip. By your own eyes, by strength, In which you swore I went beyond all women, Almost all men, and yet I yielded, Theseus Per. To crown all this, by your most noble soul, Which cannot want due mercy! I beg first. Hip. Next, hear my prayers! Emi. Last, let me entreat, sir! Per. For mercy! Hip. Mercy! Emi. Mercy on these princes! Thes. You make my faith reel: Say I felt Compassion to 'em both, how would you place it? Emi. Upon their lives; but with their banish Bow not my honour. Emi. Oh, my noble brother, That oath was rashly made, and in your anger; Per. Urge it home, brave lady! Emi. That you would ne'er deny me any thing Because they may be rotten? Oh, duke Theseus, Emi. Swear 'em never more To make me their contention, or to know me, Pal. I'll be cut a-pieces Before I take this oath! Forget I love her? Make death a devil! Thes. What may be done? for now I feel com- Per. Let it not fall again, sir! If one of them were dead, as one must, are you Thes. He, that she refuses, Must die then. Both. Any death thou canst invent, duke. vour, And lovers yet unborn shall bless my ashes. me, And soldiers sing my epitaph. Thes. Make choice then! Emi. I cannot, sir; they're both too excellent: For me, a hair shall never fall of these men. Hip. What will become of 'em? Thes. Thus I ordain it; And, by mine honour, once again it stands, Or both shall die!-You shall both to your country; And each within this month, accompanied In which I'll plant a pyramid: And whether, Pal. Yes. Here, cousin Arcite, Thes. Are you content, sister? Else both miscarry. Thes. Come, shake hands again then; Now usage like to princes, and to friends. ACT IV. Concerning the escape of Palamon? Good sir, remember! 1 Friend. Nothing that I heard; For I came home before the business Jailor. Hear you no more? Was nothing said Was fully ended: Yet I might perceive, of me Ere I departed, a great likelihood Of both their pardons; for Hippolita, His rash oath, or the sweet compassion That truly noble prince Perithous, Half his own heart, set in too, that I hope All shall be well: Neither heard I one question Of your name, or his 'scape. Enter Second Friend. Jailor. Pray Heav'n, it hold so! Wooer. No, sir; not well: 'Tis too true, she is mad. 1 Friend. It cannot be. What you have told me; the gods comfort her! Or fear of my miscarrying on his 'scape, Wooer. 'Tis likely. Jailor. But 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, 2 Friend. Be of good comfort, man! I bring From the far shore, thick set with reeds and you news, Good news. Jailor. They're welcome. 2 Friend. Palamon has clear'd you, Whose pardon is procur'd too; and the prisoner Jailor. You're a good man, And ever bring good news. 1 Friend. How was it ended? 2 Friend. Why, as it should be; they that never begg'd But they prevail'd, had their suits fairly granted. The prisoners have their lives. 1 Friend. I knew 'twould be so. 2 Friend. But there be new conditions, which you'll hear of At better time. Jailor. I hope they're good. 2 Friend. They're honourable; How good they'll prove, I know not. Ever was, Palamon, fair Palamon!' And Palamon was a tall young man!' The place Was knee-deep where she sat; her careless tresses, A wreath of bull-rush rounded; about her stuck 2 Friend. Alas, what pity 'tis ! Wooer. I made in to her; I'll warrant you, he had not so few last night She saw me, and straight sought the flood; I In two hours, if his hand be in. sav'd her, And set her safe to land; when presently She slipt away, and to the city made, With such a cry, and swiftness, that believe me I knew to be your brother; where she stay'd, And fell, scarce to be got away; I left them with her, Enter Brother, Daughter, and others. Brother. Oh, a very fine one! Daugh. Yes, truly can I; I can sing the Broom, And Bonny Robin. Are not you a tailor? Brother. Yes. Daugh. Where's my wedding-gown? Daugh. Do, very early; I must be abroad else, Oh, fair, oh, sweet, &c. [Sings. Brother. You must ev'n take it patiently. Daugh. Good e'en, good men! Pray did you ever hear Of one young Palamon? Jailor. Yes, wench, we know him. Daugh. Is't not a fine young gentleman ? Brother. By no means cross her; she is then distemper'd Far worse than now she shews. 1 Friend. Yes, he's a fine man. Daugh. But she shall never have him, tell her So, For a trick that I know: You had best look to her, For if she see him once, she's gone; she's done, And undone in an hour. All the young maids Of our town are in love with him; but I laugh at 'em, And let 'em all alone; is't not a wise course? 1 Friend. Yes. Daugh. There is at least two hundred now There must be four; yet I keep close for all this, 2 Friend. This is strange. Daugh. As ever you heard; but say nothing. 1 Friend. No. Daugh. They come from all parts of the dukedom to him: Jailor. She's lost, Past all cure! Brother. Heav'n forbid, man! Daugh. Where's your compass? Daugh. Set it to th' north; And now direct your course to th' wood, where Palamon Lies longing for me; for the tackling Let me alone: Come, weigh my hearts, cheerly! Brother. Let's get her in. Daugh. What ken'st thou? Daugh. Bear for it, master; tack about. [Sings. When Cinthia with her borrow'd light, &c. SCENE II. Enter EMILIA with two pictures. [Exeunt. Emi. Yet I may bind those wounds up, that must open And bleed to death for my sake else: I'll chuse, And end their strife; two such young handsome men Shall never fall for me: Their weeping mothers, Just such another wanton Ganimede Is but his foil; to him, a mere dull shadow; Of all this sprightly sharpness, not a smile. Yet these that we count errors, may become him: Narcissus was a sad boy, but a heavenly. What a bold gravity, and yet inviting, Has this brown manly face! Oh, Love, this only Alas, I know not! ask me, now, sweet sister; Emi. 'Would I might end first! What sins have I committed, chaste Diana, That my unspotted youth must now be soil'd With blood of princes? and my chastity Be made the altar, where the lives of lovers (Two greater and two better never yet Made mothers' joy) must be the sacrifice To my unhappy beauty! Mess. From the knights. Thes. Pray speak, You that have seen them, what they are. And truly what I think: Six braver spirits I never saw, nor read of. He that stands In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming Should be a stout man, by his face a prince (His very looks so say him); his complexion Nearer a brown, than black; stern, and yet noble, Which shews him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers; The circles of his eyes shew far within him, His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining Like raven's wings; his shoulders broad, and Arms long and round; and on his thigh a sword Thes. Th' hast well described him. Per. Yet a great deal short, Methinks, of him that's first with Palamon. Per. I he is a prince too, And, if it may be, greater; for his show He's somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of, But of a face far sweeter; his complexion Is (as a ripe grape) ruddy; he has felt, Without doubt, what he fights for, and so apter To make this cause his own; in's face appears All the fair hopes of what he undertakes; And when he's angry, then a settled valour (Not tainted with extremes) runs through his body, And guides his arm to brave things; fear he cannot, He shews no such soft temper; his head's yellow, Hard-hair'd, and curl'd, thick twin'd, like ivy tops, Not to undo with thunder; in his face Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLITA, PERITHOUS, and Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blest attendants. him; And in his rolling eyes sits Victory, Mess. There's another, A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming As great as any; fairer promises In such a body yet I never look'd on. |