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Thou shalt know, Palamon, I dare as well · Only a little let him fall before me,
Die, as discourse, or sleep: only this fears me, That I

may
tell my

soul he shall not have her. The law will have the honour of our ends.

Thes. I grant your wish; for, to say true, your Have at thy life!

cousin Pal. Look to thine own well, Arcite! Has ten times more offended, for I gave him [Fight again. Horns. More mercy than you found, sir, your offences

Being no more than his. None here speak for Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLITA, EMILIA, PERI

'em ! THOUS, and train.

For ere the sun set, both shall sleep for ever. Thes. What ignorant and mad malicious trai- Hip. Alas, the pity!—now or never, sister, tors

Speak, not to be denied: That face of yours Are you, that, 'gainst the tenor of my laws, Will bear the curses else of after-ages, Are making battle, thus like knights appointed, For these lost cousins ! Without my leave, and officers of arms?

Emi. In my face, dear sister, By Castor, both shall die !

I find no anger to 'em, nor no ruin ; Pal. Hold thy word, Theseus !

The misadventure of their own eyes kills 'em : We're certainly both traitors, both despisers Yet that I will be woman, and have pity, Of thee, and of thy goodness: I am Palamon, My knees shall grow to the ground but I'll get That cannot love thee, he that broke thy prison;

mercy. Think well what that deserves ! and this is Ar- Help me, dear sister! in a deed so virtuous,

The powers of all women will be with us.
A bolder traitor never trod thy ground,

Most royal brother
A falser ne'er seem'd friend : this is the man Hip. Sir, by our tie of marriage
Was begg'd and banishd; this is he contemns Emi. By your own spotless honour-
thee,

Hip. By that faith,
And what thou dar’st do ; and in this disguise, That fair hand, and that honest heart you gave
Against this known edict, follows thy sister,
That fortunate bright star, the fair Émilia ; Emi. By that you would have pity in another,
(Whose servant, if there be a right in seeing, By your own virtues infinite-
And first bequeathing of the soul to, justly Hip. By valour,
I am ;) and, which is more, dares think her his ! By all the

chaste nights I have ever pleas'd you— This treachery, like a most trusty lover,

Thes. These are strange conjurings !
I call'd him now to answer: If thou best,

Per. Nay, then I'll in too:
As thou art spoken, great and virtuous, By all our friendship, sir, by all our dangers,
The true decider of all injuries,

By all you love most, wars, and this sweet lady— Say, ' Fight again !' and thou shalt see me, The- Emi. By that you would have trembled to deny, seus,

A blushing maidDo such a justice, thou thyself wilt envy;

Hip. By your own eyes, by strength, Then take my life ! I'll wooe thee to't.

In which you swore I went beyond all women, Per. Oh, Heaven,

Almost all men, and yet I yielded, Theseus What more than man is this !

Per. To crown all this, by your most noble Thes. I've sworn.

soul, Arc. We seek not

Which cannot want due mercy! I beg first.
Thy breath of mercy, Theseus. 'Tis to me Hip. Next, hear my prayers !
A thing as soon to die, as thee to say it,

Emi. Last, let me entreat, sir !
And no more mov'd. Where this man calls me Per. For mercy !
traitor,

Hip. Mercy!
Let me say thus much : If in love be treason, Emi. Mercy on these princes !
In service of so excellent a beauty,

Thes. You make my faith reel : Say I felt
As I love most, and in that faith will perish; Compassion to 'em both, how would you place it?
As I have brought my life here to confirm it; Emi, Upon their lives ; but with their banish-
As I have served her truest, worthiest ;

ments. As I dare kill this cousin, that denies it;

Thes. You're a right woman, sister; you have So let me be most traitor, and you please me.

pity,
For scorning thy edict, duke, ask that lady But want the understanding where to use it.
Why she is fair, and why her eyes command me If you desire their lives, invent a way
Stay here to love her; and if she say traitor, Safer than banishment: Can these two live,
I am a villain fit to lie unburied.

And have the agony of love about 'em,
Pal. Thou shalt have pity of us both, oh, And not kill one another ? Every day
Theseus,

They'll fight about you; hourly bring your honour If unto neither thou shew mercy; stop,

In public question with their swords: Be wise As thou art just, thy noble ear against us;

then, As thou art valiant, for thy cousin's soul, And here forget 'em! it concerns your credit, Whose twelve strong labours crown his memory, And my oath equally: I have said, they die ! Let's die together, at one instant, duke ! Better they fall by the law, than one another.

Bow not my honour.

Make death a devil ! Emi. Oh, my noble brother,

Thes. What may be done ? for now I feel comThat oath was rashly made, and in your anger ;

passion. Your reason will not hold it: If such vows Per. Let it not fall again, sir ! Stand for express will, all the world must perish. Thes. Say, Emilia, Beside, I have another oath 'gainst yours, If one of them were dead, as one must, are you Of more authority, I'm sure more love; Content to take the other to your husband? Not made in passion neither, but good heed. They cannot both enjoy you ; they are princes Thes. What is it, sister?

As goodly as your own eyes, and as noble Per. Urge it home, brave lady!

As ever Fame yet spoke of; look upon 'em, Emi. That you would ne'er deny me any thing And, if you can love, end this difference ! Fit for my modest suit, and your free granting : I give consent : Are you content too, princes ? I tie you to your word now; if you fail in't, Both. With all our souls. Think how you maim your honour ;

Thes. He, that she refuses, (For now I'm set a-begging, sir, I'm deaf Must die then. To all but your compassion !) how their lives Both. Any death thou canst invent, duke. Might breed the ruin of my name, opinion ! Pal. If I fall from that mouth, I fall with faShall any thing that loves me perish for me?

vour, That were a cruel wisdom! do men prune

And lovers yet un shall bless my ashes. The straight young boughs that blush with thou- Arc. If she refuse me, yet my grave will wed sand blossoms,

me,
Because they may be rotten? Oh, duke Theseus, And soldiers sing my epitaph.
The goodly mothers that have groan'd for these, Thes. Make choice then!
And all the longing maids that ever lov’d,

Emi. I cannot, sir ; they're both too excellent:
If your vow stand, shall curse me and my beauty, For me, a hair shall never fall of these men.
And, in their funeral songs for these two cousins, Hip. What will become of 'em ?
Despise my cruelty, and cry woe-worth me, Thes. Thus I ordain it;
'Till I am nothing but the scorn of women: And, by mine honour, once again it stands,
For Heaven's sake save their lives, and banish'em! Or both shall die !_You shall both to your
Thes. On what conditions ?

country; Emi. Swear 'em never more

And each within this month, accompanied To make me their contention, or to know me, With three fair knights, appear again in this To tread upon thy dukedom, and to be,

place, Wherever they shall travel, ever strangers In which I'll plant a pyramid: And whether, To one another.

Before us that are here, can force his cousin Pal. I'll be cut a-pieces

By fair and knightly strength to touch the pillar, Before I take this oath ! Forget I love her? He shall enjoy her; the other lose his head, Oh, all ye gods, despise me then! Thy banish And all his friends : Nor shall he grudge to fall, ment

Nor think he dies with interest in this lady: I not mislike, so we may fairly carry

Will this content ye?
Our swords, and cause along: Else, never trifle, Pal. Yes. Here, cousin Arcite,
But take our lives, duke! I must love, and will ; I'm friends again 'till that hour.
And for that love, must and dare kill this Arc. I embrace you.
cousin,

Thes. Are you content, sister?
On any piece the earth has.

Emi. Yes: I must, sir ; Thes. Will you, Arcite,

Else both miscarry. Take these conditions ?

Thes. Come, shake hands again then; Pal. He's a villain then !

And take heed, as you're gentlemen, this quarrel Per. These are men !

Sleep'till the hour prefix'd, and hold your course! Arc. No, never, duke; 'tis worse to me than Pal. We dare not fail thee, Theseus. begging,

Thes. Come, I'll give ye To take my life so basely. Though I think

Now

usage like to princes, and to friends. I never shall enjoy her, yet I'll preserve

When ye return, who wins, I'll settle here; The honour of affection, and die for her, Who loses, yet I'll weep upon his bier. (Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE 1.

Concerning the escape of Palamon?

Good sir, remember!
Enter Jailor and a Friend.

i Friend. Nothing that I heard;

For I came home before the business Jeilor. 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,

Wooer. No, sir; not well : And fair-ey'd Emily, upon their knees

'Tis too true, she is mad. Begg'd with such handsome pity, that the duke i Friend. It cannot be. Methought stood staggering whether he should Wooer. Believe, you'll find it so. follow

Jailor. I half suspected His rash oath, or the sweet compassion

What you have told me; the gods comfort her! Of those two ladies ; and to second them,

Either this was her love to Palamon,
That truly noble prince Perithous,

Or fear of my miscarrying on his 'scape,
Half his own heart, set in too, that I hope Or both.
All shall be well : Neither heard I one question Wooer. 'Tis likely
Of your name, or his 'scape.

Jailor. But why all this haste, sir ?
Enter Second Friend,

Wooer. I'll tell you quickly. As I late was

angling Jailor. Pray Heav'n, it hold so!

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,

sedges, Good news.

As patiently I was attending sport, Jailor. They're welcome.

I heard a voice, a shrill one; and attentive 2 Friend. Palamon has clear'd you,

I

gave my ear; when I might well perceive And got your pardon, and discover'd how 'Twas one that sung, and, by the smallness of it, And by whose means he 'scap'd, which was your A boy or woman. I then left my angle Daughter's,

To his own skill, came near, but yet perceiv'd not Whose pardon is procur’d too; and the prisoner Who made the sound, the rushes and the reeds (Not to be held ungrateful to her goodness) Had so encompas s'd it: I laid me down Has given a sum of money to her marriage,

And listen'd to the words she sung; for then, A large one, I'll assure you.

Through a small glade cut by the fishermen, Jailor. You're a good man,

I saw it was your Daughter. And ever bring good news.

Jailor. Pray go on, sir ! i Friend. How was it ended ?

Wooer. She sung much, but no sense ; only I 2 Friend. Why, as it should be; they that

heard her never begg'd

Repeat this often : * Palamon is gone, But they prevail d, had their suits fairly granted. • Is gone to the wood to gather mulberries; The prisoners have their lives.

" I'll find him out to-morrow.' i friend. I knew 'twould be so.

1 Friend. Pretty soul ! 2 Friend. But there be new conditions, which Wooer. His shackles will betray him, he'll be

taken; At better time.

• And what shall I do then? I'll bring a beavy, Juilor. I hope they're good.

' A hundred black-ey'd maids that love as I do, 2 Friend. They're honourable ;

With chaplets on their heads, of daffadillies, How good they'll prove, I know not.

• With cherry lips, and cheeks of damask roses,

And all we'll dance an antic 'fore the duke, Enter Wooer.

And beg his pardon.' "Then she talk d of you, 1 Friend. "Twill be known.

sir; Wooer. Alas, sir, where's your Daughter? That you must lose your head to-morrow-morning, Jailor. Why do you ask ?

And she must gather flowers to bury you, Wooer. Oh, sir, when did you see her ? And see the house made handsome: Then she 2 Friend. How he looks!

sung Jailor. This morning.

Nothing but, Willow, willow, willow;' and beW'over. Was she well ? was she in health, sir?

tween When did she sleep?

Ever was, “ Palamon, fair Palamon!" i Friend. These are strange questions. And · Palamon was a tall young man ! The Jailor. I do not think she was very well; for,

place

Was knee-deep where she sat; her careless You make me mind her, but this very day

tresses, I ask'd her questions, and she answer

A wreath of bull-rush rounded; about her stuck So far from what she was, so childishly, Thousand fresh-water flowers of several colours; So sillily, as if she were a fool,

That methought she appear'd like the fair nymph An innocent ; and I was very angry.

That feeds the lake with waters, or as Iris But what of her, sir?

Newly dropt down from heaven! Rings she made W'over. Nothing but my pity;

Of rushes that grew by, and to 'em spoke But you must know it, and as good by me The prettiest posies; • Thus our true love's tied;" As by another that less loves her.

• This you may loose, not me;' and many a one : Jailor. Well, sir?

And then she wept, and sung again, and sighed, i Friend. Not right?

And with the same breath smiled, and kist her 9 Friend. Not well?

hand.

you'll hear of

now

me

2 Friend. Alas, what pity 'tis !

I'll warrant you, he had not so few last night Wooer. I made in to her ;

As twenty to dispatch ; he'll tickle't up
She saw me, and straight sought the flood; I In two hours, if his hand be in.
sav'd her,

Jailor. She's lost,
And set her safe to land; when presently Past all cure!
She slipt away, and to the city made,

Brother. Heav'n forbid, man !
With such a cry, and swiftness, that believe me Daugh. Come hither; you're a wise man.
She left me far behind her: Three, or four,

1 Friend. Does she know him? I saw from far off cross her, one of 'em

2 Friend. No; 'would she did ! I knew to be your brother; where she stay'd, Daugh. You're master of a ship? And fell, scarce to be got away; I left them with Jailor. Yes. her,

Daugh. Where's your compass ?

Jailor. Here.
Enter Brother, Daughter, and others.

Daugh. Set it to th' north ;
And hither came to tell you. Here they are.

And now direct your course to th' wood, where Daugh. May you never more enjoy the light, &c.

Palamon Is not this a fine song?

Lies longing for me; for the tackling Brother. Oh, a very fine one !

Let me alone : Come, weigh my hearts, cheerly! Daugh. I can sing twenty more.

All. Owgh, owgh, owgh! 'tis up, the wind is fair, Brother. I think you can.

Top the bowling; out with the main-sail ! Daugh. Yes, truly can I; I can sing the Broom,

Where is your whistle, master? And Bonny Robin. Are not you a tailor?

Brother. Let's get her in. Brother. Yes.

Jailor. Up to the top, boy. Daugh. Where's my wedding-gown?

Brother. Where's the pilot? Brother. I'll bring it to-morrow.

1 Friend. Here. Daugh. Do, very early; I must be abroad else,

Daugh. What ken’st thou? To call the maids, and pay the minstrels;

2 Friend. A fair wood. For I must lose my maidenhead by cock-light; Duugh. Bear for it, master; tack about. (Sings. Twill never thrive else. Oh, fair, oh, sweet, &c.

(Sings.

When Cinthia with her borrow'd light, &c. Brother. You must ev'n take it patiently.

[Exeunt. Jailor. 'Tis true. Daugh. Good e'en, good men ! Pray did you

SCENE II. ever hear Of one young Palamon?

Enter EMILIA with two pictures. Jailor. Yes, wench, we know him.

Emi. Yet I may bind those wounds up, that Daugh. Is't not a fine young gentleman ?

must open Juilor. 'Tis love!

And bleed to death for my sake else: I'll chuse, Brother. By no means cross her; she is then And end their strife; two such young handsome

distemper'd Far worse than now she shews.

Shall never fall for me: Their weeping mothers, 1 Friend. Yes, he's a fine man.

Following the dead-cold ashes of their sons, Daugh. Oh, is he so? You have a sister? Shall never curse my cruelty. Good Heaven, i Friend. Yes.

What a sweet face has Arcite! If wise Nature, Daugh. But she shall never have him, tell her with all her best endowments, all those beauties So,

She sows into the births of noble bodies, For a trick that I know: You had best look to Were here a mortal woman, and had in her her,

The coy denials of young maids, yet doubtless For if she see him once, she's gone ; she’s done, She would run mad for this man: What an eye! And undone in an hour. All the young maids Of what a fiery sparkle, and quick sweetness, Of our town are in love with him ; but I laugh Has this young prince ! here Love himself sits at 'em,

smiling; And let 'em all alone; is't not a wise course? Just such another wanton Ganimede 1 Friend. Yes.

Set Jove afire with, and enforc'd the god Daugh. There is at least two hundred now Snatch up the goodly boy, and set him by him with child by him,

A shining constellation ! what a brow, There must be four; yet I keep close for all this, of what a spacious majesty, he carries, Close as a cockle; and all these must be boys, Arched like the great-eyed Juno's, but far He has the trick on't; and at ten years old

sweeter, They must be all gelt for musicians,

Smoother than Pelops' shoulder! Fame and And sing the Wars of Theseus.

Honour, 2 Friend. This is strange.

Methinks, from hence, as from a promontory Daugh. As ever you heard; but say nothing. Pointed in Heaven, should clap their wings, and i Friend. No.

sing Daugh. They come from all parts of the To all the under-world, the loves and fights dukedom to him :

Of gods, and such men near 'em. Palamon

men

him :

Is but his foil; to him, a mere dull shadow; Mess. From the knights.
He's swarth and meagre, of an eye as heavy

Thes. Pray speak,
As if he'd lost his mother; a still temper,

You that have seen them, wbat they are. No stirring in him, no alacrity;

Mess. I will, sir, Of all this sprightly sharpness, not a smile. And truly what I think : Six braver spirits Yet these that we count errors, may become Than these they've brought, (if we judge by the

outside) Narcissus was a sad boy, but a heavenly.

I never saw, nor read of. He that stands Oh, who can find the bent of woman's fancy? In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming I am a fool, my reason is lost in me!

Should be a stout man, by his face a prince I have no choice, and I have lied so lewdly (His very looks so say him); his complexion That women ought to beat me. On my knees Nearer a brown, than black; stern, and yet I ask thy pardon, Palamon Thou art alone,

noble, And only beautiful ; and these thy eyes,

Which shews him hardy, fearless, proud of danThese the bright lamps of beauty,

that command

gers; And threaten love, and what young maid dare The circles of his eyes shew far within him, cross 'em?

And as a heated lion, so he looks ; What a bold gravity, and yet inviting,

His hair hangs long behind him, black and shinHas this brown manly face! Oh, Love, this only

ing From this hour is complexion ; lie there, Arcite! Like raven's wings ; his shoulders broad, and Thou art a changeling to him, a mere gipsy,

strong; And this the noble body-I am sotted,

Arms long and round; and on his thigh a sword Utterly lost! my virgin's faith has fed me, Hung by a curious baldrick, when he frowns For if my brother but even now had ask'd me To seal his will with; better, o' my conscience, Whether I lov'd, I had run mad for Arcite; Was never soldier's friend. Now if my sister, more for Palamon.

Thes. Th’ hast well described him. Stand both together ! Now, come, ask me, bro- Per. Yet a great deal short, ther;

Methinks, of hìm that's first with Palamon. Alas, I know not ! ask me, now, sweet sister; Thes. Pray speak him, friend. I may go look! What a mere child is fancy, Per. I guess he is a prince too, That having two fair gawds of equal sweetness, And, if it may be, greater; for his show Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both ! Has all the ornament of honour in't.

He's somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke Enter a Gentleman.

of, How now, sir?

But of a face far sweeter; his complexion Gent. From the noble duke your brother, Is (as a ripe grape) ruddy; he has felt, Madam, I bring you news: The knights are Without doubt, what he fights for, and so apter

To make this cause his own; in's face appears Emi. To end the quarrel ?

All the fair hopes of what he undertakes; Gent. Yes.

And when he's angry, then a settled valour Emi. 'Would I might end first!

(Not tainted with extremes) runs through his What sins have I committed, chaste Diana,

body, That my unspotted youth must now be soild And guides his arm to brave things; fear he With blood of princes ? and my chastity

cannot, Be made the altar, where the lives of lovers He shews no such soft temper; his head's yellow, (Two greater and two better never yet

Hard-hair'd, and curl'd, thick twin'd, like ivy Made mothers' joy) must be the sacrifice

tops, To my unhappy beauty!

Not to undo with thunder; in his face

The livery of the warlike maid appears, Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLITA, PERITHOUS, and Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blest

attendants. Thes. Bring 'em in

And in his rolling eyes sits Victory, Quickly, by any means ! I long to see 'em.- As if she ever meant to crown his valour; Your two contending lovers are return'd, His nose stands high, a character of honour, And with them their fair knights : Now, my His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies. fair sister,

Emi. Must these men die too? You must love one of them.

Per. When he speaks, his tongue Emi. I, had rather both,

Sounds like a trumpet; all his lineaments So neither for my sake should fall untimely. Are as a man would wish 'em, strong and clean; Enter Messenger.

He wears a well-steel'd axe, the staff of gold;

His age some five and twenty. Thes. Who saw 'em ?

Aless. There's another, Per. I, a while.

A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming Gent. And I.

As great as any; fairer promises Thes. From whence come you, sir ?

In such a body yet I never look'd on.

come.

him;

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