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Per. Oh, he that's freckle-faced?

Mess. The same, my lord:

Are they not sweet ones?

Per. Yes, they're well.

Mess. Methinks,

Being so few, and well disposed, they shew Great, and fine art in Nature. He's white hair'd,

Not wanton-white, but such a manly colour Next to an auburn; tough, and nimble set, Which shews an active soul; his arms are brawny,

Lin'd with strong sinews; to the shoulder-piece Gently they swell, like women new-conceived, Which speaks him prone to labour, never fainting

Under the weight of arms; stout-hearted, still,
But, when he stirs, a tiger; he's grey-eyed,
Which yields compassion where he conquers;
sharp

To spy advantages, and where he finds 'em,
He's swift to make 'em his; he does no wrongs,
Nor takes none; he's round-faced, and when he
smiles,

He shews a lover, when he frowns, a soldier;
About his head he wears the winner's oak,
And in it stuck the favour of his lady;
His age, some six and thirty. In his hand
He bears a charging-staff, emboss'd with silver.
Thes. Are they all thus ?

Per. They're all the sons of honour.

Thes. Now, as I have a soul, I long to see 'em!

Lady, you shall see men fight now.

Hip. I wish it,

But not the cause, my lord: They would shew bravely

Fighting about the titles of two kingdoms; 'Tis pity Love should be so tyrannous. Oh, my soft-hearted sister, what think you? Weep not, till they weep blood, wench! it must be.

Thes. You've steel'd 'em with your beauty.
Honour'd friend,

To you I give the field; pray order it.
Fitting the persons that must use it.

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World, and a better; and what broken piece Of matter soe'er she's about, the name Palamon lards it; that she farces ev'ry Enter Daughter.

Business withal, fits it to every question. Look, where she comes! you shall perceive her behaviour.

Daugh. I have forgot it quite; the burden on't Was down-a down-a; and penned by no worse man than

Giraldo, Emilia's schoolmaster: He's as Fantastical too, as ever he may go upon's legs; For in the next world will Dido see Palamon, And then will she be out of love with Æneas. Doctor. What stuff's here? poor soul! Jailor. Even thus all day long.

Daugh. Now for this charm, that I told you

of; you must

Bring a piece of silver on the tip of your tongue,
Or no ferry: Then if it be your chance to come
Where the blessed spirits, (as there's a sight
now) we maids

That have our livers perish'd, crack'd to pieces
With love, we shall come there, and do nothing
All day long but pick flowers with Proserpine;
Then will I make Palamon a nosegay;
Then let him-mark me-then!

Doctor. How prettily she's amiss! note her a little further.

Daugh. Faith, I'll tell you; sometime we go to barley-break,

We of the bless'd: Alas, 'tis a sore life
They have i'th' other place, such burning, frying,
Boiling, hissing, howling, chattering, cursing,
Oh, they have shrewd measure; take heed!
If one be mad, or hang, or drown themselves,
Thither they go, Jupiter bless us! and there
Shall we be put in a caldron of lead

And usurers' grease, amongst a whole million of cut-purses,

And there boil like a gammon of bacon
That will never be enough.

Doctor. How her brain coins!

Daugh. Lords and courtiers, that have got
maids with-child,

They are in this place; they shall stand in fire
Up to the navel, and in ice up to th' heart,
And there th' offending part burns, and the de-
ceiving part

Freezes: In troth, a very grievous punishment,
As one would think, for such a trifle! believe

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And then howls; th' other curses a suing fellow, And her garden-house.

[Sings.] I will be true, my stars, my fate, &c. [Exit Daugh. Jailor. What think you of her, Sir? Doctor. I think she has a perturbed mind, Which I cannot minister to.

Jailor. Alas, what then?

Doctor. Understand you she ever affected any

man,

Ere she beheld Palamon?

Jailor. I was once, sir,

In great hope she had fix'd her liking on
This gentleman, my friend.

Wooer. I did think so too;

And would account I had a great pennyworth on't,

To give half my state, that both she and I
At this present stood unfeignedly on the same

terms.

Doctor. That intemperate surfeit of her eye hath distemper'd

The other senses; they may return and settle again

To execute their preordained faculties;
But they are now in a most extravagant vagary.
This you must do: Confine her to a place where
the light

May rather seem to steal in, than be permitted.
Take upon you (young sir, her friend) the name
Of Palamon; say you come to eat with her,
And to commune of love; this will catch her
attention,

For this her mind beats upon; other objects, That are inserted 'tween her mind and eye, Become the pranks and friskins of her mad

ness;

Sing to her such green songs of love, as she
Says Palamon hath sung in prison; come to her,
Stuck in as sweet flowers as the season

Is mistress of, and thereto make an addition
Of some other compounded odours, which
Are grateful to the sense: All this
Shall become Palamon, for Palamon
Can sing, and Palamon is sweet,

And every good thing; desire to eat with her,
Carve her, drink to her, and still among
Intermingle your petition of grace and acceptance
Into her favour; learn what maids have been
Her companions, and play-pheers; and let them
Repair to her with Palamon in their mouths,
And appear with tokens, as if they suggested for
him:

It is a falsehood she is in, which is
With falsehoods to be combated. This may
bring her

To eat, to sleep, and reduce what are now
Out of square in her, into their former law
And regiment: I have seen it approved,
How many times I know not; but to make
The number more, I have great hope in this.
I will, between the passages of this project,
Come in with my appliance. Let us put it
In execution; and hasten the success,
Which, doubt not, will bring forth comfort.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

ACT V.

Enter THESEUS, PERITHOUS, HIPPOLITA, and

attendants.

Thes. Now let 'em enter, and before the gods Tender their holy prayers! let the temples Burn bright with sacred fires, and the altars In hallow'd clouds commend their swelling in

cense

To those above us! Let no due be wanting!
[Flourish of Cornets.
They have a noble work in hand, will honour
The very powers that love 'em.

Enter PALAMON, ARCITE, and their Knights.
Per. Sir, they enter.

Thes. You valiant and strong-hearted enemies, You royal germane foes, that this day come To blow that nearness out that flames between ye, Lay by your anger for an hour, and dove-like" Before the holy altars of your helpers (The all-fear'd gods) bow down your stubborn bodies!

Your ire is more than mortal; so your help be!
And as the gods regard ye, fight with justice!
I'll leave you to your prayers, and betwixt ye
I part my wishes.

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Knights, kinsmen, lovers, yea, my sacrifices,
True worshippers of Mars, whose spirit in you
Expels the seeds of fear, and th' apprehension,
Which still is further off it, go with me
Before the god of our profession! There
Require of him the hearts of lions, and
The breath of tigers, yea, the fierceness too!
Yea, the speed also! to go on, I mean,

Else wish we to be snails: You know my prize
Must be dragg'd out of blood! force and great
feat

Must put my garland on, where she will stick
The queen of flowers; our intercession then
Must be to him that makes the camp a cestron
Brim'd with the blood of men; give me your aid
And bend your spirits towards him!-

[They kneel. Thou mighty one, that with thy power hast turn'd

Green Neptune into purple; whose approach
Comets prewarn; whose havoc in vast field
Unearthed skulls proclaim; whose breath blows
down

The teeming Ceres' foyzon; who dost pluck
With hand armipotent from forth blue clouds
The mason'd turrets; that both mak'st and
break'st

The stony girths of cities; me thy pupil,

To be his subject's vassal, and induce
Stale Gravity to dance; the polled bachelor,
(Whose youth, like wanton boys thro' bonfires,
Have skipt thy flame) at seventy thou canst
catch,

And make him, to the scorn of his hoarse throat,
Abuse young lays of love. What godlike power
Hast thou not power upon? To Phoebus thou
Add'st flames, hotter than his; the heavenly fires
Did scorch his mortal son, thine him; the
huntress

All moist and cold, some say, began to throw
Her bow away, and sigh; take to thy grace
Me, thy vow'd soldier! who do bear thy yoke
As 'twere a wreath of roses, yet is heavier
Than lead itself, stings more than nettles:
I've never been foul-mouth'd against thy law;
Ne'er reveal'd secret, for I knew none, would

not

Had I ken'd all that were; I never practis'd
Upon man's wife, nor would the libels read
Of liberal wits; I never at great feasts
Sought to betray a beauty, but have blush'd
At simpring sirs that did; I have been harsh
To large confessors, and have hotly ask'd 'em
If they had mothers? I had one, a woman,
And women 'twere they wrong'd. I knew a

man

Young'st follower of thy drum, instruct this day Of eighty winters, (this I told them) who
With military skill, that to thy laud

I may advance my streamer, and by thee
Be stil'd the lord o'th' day! Give me, Great
Mars,

Some token of thy pleasure!

[Here they fall on their faces as formerly, and there is heard clanging of armour, with a short thunder, as the burst of a battle, whereupon they all rise, and bow to the altar. Oh, 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 curest the world O'th' pleurisy of people; I do take Thy signs auspiciously, and in thy name To my design march boldly. Let us go!

[Exeunt.

Enter PALAMON and his Knights, with the former observance.

Pal. Our stars must glister with new fire, or
be

To-day extinct: Our argument is love,
Which if the goddess of it grant, she gives
Victory too: Then blend your spirits with mine,
You, whose free nobleness do make my cause
Your personal hazard! To the goddess Venus
Commend we our proceeding, and implore
Her power unto our party! [Here they kneel.
Hail, sovereign queen of secrets! who hast power
To call the fiercest tyrant from his rage,
To weep unto a girl; that hast the might
Even with an eye-glance to choak Mars's drum,
And turn th' alarm to whispers; that canst make
A cripple flourish with his crutch, and cure him
Before Apollo; that may'st force the king

A lass of fourteen brided; 'twas thy power
To put life into dust; the aged cramp
Had screw'd his square foot round,
The gout had knit his fingers into knots,
Torturing convulsions from his globy eyes
Had almost drawn their spheres, that what was
life

In him seem'd torture; this anatomy
Had by his young fair pheer a boy, and I
Believ'd 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 com-

panion;

To those that boast, and have not, a defier;
To those that would, and cannot, a rejoicer:
Yea, him I do not love, that tells close offices
The foulest way, nor names concealments in
The boldest language; such a one I am,
And vow that lover never yet made sigh
Truer than I. Oh, then, most soft sweet god-
dess,

Give me the victory of this question, which
Is true love's merit, and bless me with a sign
Of thy great pleasure!

[Here music is heard, doves are seen to flutter,
they fall again upon their faces, then on

their knees.

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[Still music of records. Enter EMILIA in white, her hair about her shoulders, 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, her maid standing aloof, she sets fire to it; then they curt'sy and kneel.

Emi. Oh, sacred, shadowy, cold and constant
queen,

Abandoner of revels, mute, contemplative,
Sweet, solitary, white as chaste, and pure
As wind-fann'd snow, who to thy female knights
Allow'st no more blood than will make a blush,
Which is their order's robe; I here thy priest
Am humbled 'fore thine altar. Oh, vouchsafe,
With that thy rare green eye, which never yet
Beheld thing maculate, look on thy virgin!
And, sacred silver mistress, lend thine ear
(Which ne'er heard scurril term, into whose port
Ne'er enter'd wanton sound) to my petition,
Season'd with holy fear! This is my last
Of vestal office; I'm bride-habited,
But maiden-hearted; a husband I have 'pointed,
But do not know him; out of two I should
Chuse one, and pray for his success, but I
Am guiltless of election of mine eyes;
Were I to lose one, (they are equal precious)
I could doom neither; that which perish'd should
Go to't unsentenc'd: Therefore, most modest
queen,

He, of the two pretenders, that best loves me
And has the truest title in't, let him
Take off my wheaten garland, or else grant
The file and quality I hold I may
Continue in thy band!

[Here the hind vanishes under the altar, and in the place ascends a rose-tree, having one rose upon it.

See what our general of ebbs and flows
Out from the bowels of her holy altar
With sacred act advances! But one rose?
If well inspired, this battle shall confound
Both these brave knights, and I a virgin flower
Must grow alone unpluck'd.

[Here is heard a sudden twang of instruments, and the rose falls from the tree. The flower is fallen, the tree descends! Oh,

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And when your fit comes, fit her home, and presently!

Wooer. She'd have me sing.
Doctor. You did so?
Wooer. No.

Doctor. 'Twas very ill done then;
You should observe her every way.
Wover. Alas,

I have no voice, sir, to confirm her that way.
Doctor. That's all one, if you make a noise:
If she entreat again, do any thing;
Lie with her, if she ask you.

Jailor. Hoa there, Doctor!
Doctor. Yes, in the way of cure.
Jailor. But first, by your leave,
I'th' way of honesty.

Doctor. That's but a niceness: Ne'er cast your child away for honesty; Cure her first this way; then, if she will be honest,

She has the path before her.

Jailor. Thank you, Doctor!

Doctor. Pray bring her in, and let's see how she is.

Jailor. I will, and tell her

Her Palamon stays for her: But, Doctor,
Methinks you are i'th' wrong still.

[Exit.

Doctor. Go, go! You fathers are fine fools: Her honesty?

An we should give her physic till we find thatWooer. Why, do you think she is not honest,

sir?

Doctor. How old is she?
Wooer. She's eighteen.
Doctor. She may be;

But that's all one, 'tis nothing to our purpose:
Whate'er her father says, if you perceive
Her mood inclining that way that I spoke of,
Videlicet, the way of flesh-you have me?

Wooer. Yes, very well, sir.
Doctor. Please her appetite,

And do it home; it cures her, ipso facto,
The melancholy humour that infects her.
Wooer. I am of your mind, Doctor.

Enter Jailor, Daughter, and Maid. Doctor. You'll find it so. She comes; pray humour her!

Jailor. Come; your love Palamon stays for you, child;

And has done this long hour, to visit you. Daugh. I thank him for his gentle patience;

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Daugh. How do you like him?

Jailor. He's a very fair one.

Daugh. You never saw him dance?
Jailor. No.

Daugh. I have often ;

He dances very finely, very comely;

And, for a jig, come cut and long tail to him! He turns you like a top.

Jailor. That's fine indeed.

Daugh. He'll dance the morris twenty mile an hour.

And that will founder the best hobby-horse
(If I have any skill) in all the parish;
And gallops to the tune of Light o' love:
What think you of this horse?

Jailor. Having these virtues,

I think he might be brought to play at tennis. Daugh. Alas, that's nothing.

Jailor. Can he write and read too?

Daugh. A very fair hand; and casts himself th' accounts

Of all his hay and provender; that hostler Must rise betime that cozens him. You know The chesnut mare the duke has?

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But this poor petticoat, and two coarse smocks. Wooer. That's all one; I will have you.

Daugh. Will you surely?

Wooer. Yes; by this fair hand, will I.
Daugh. We'll to-bed then.

Wooer. Even when you will.

Daugh. Oh, Sir, you'd fain be nibbling.

Wooer. Why do you rub my kiss off?
Daugh. 'Tis a sweet one,

And will perfume me finely 'gainst the wedding.
Is not this your cousin Arcite?

Doctor. Yes, sweetheart;

And I am glad my cousin Palamon
Has made so fair a choice.

Daugh. Do you think he'll have me?
Doctor. Yes, without doubt.
Daugh. Do you think so too?

Jailor. Yes.

Daugh. We shall have many children.-Lord,
how you're grown!

My Palamon I hope will grow too finely,
Now he's at liberty: Alas, poor chicken,
He was kept down with hard meat, and ill
lodging,

But I will kiss him up again.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. What do you here?

You'll lose the noblest sight that e'er was seen.
Jailor. Are they i'th' field?
Mess. They are:
You bear a charge there too.
Jailor. I'll away straight.
I must even leave you here.
Doctor. Nay, we'll go with
I will not lose the fight.

you;

Jailor. How did you like her?

Doctor. I'll warrant you within these three or four days

I'll make her right again.

her,

You must not from

But still preserve her in this way.
Wooer. I will.

Doctor. Let's get her in.

Wooer. Come, sweet, we'll go to dinner; And then we'll play at cards.

Daugh. And shall we kiss too?

Wooer. A hundred times.

Daugh. And twenty?

Wooer. Ay, and twenty.

Daugh. And then we'll sleep together?

Doctor. Take her offer.

Wooer. Yes, marry will we.

Daugh. But you shall not hurt me.

Wooer. I will not, sweet.

Daugh. If you do, love, I'll cry.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLITA, EMILIA, PERITHOUS, and attendants.

Emi. I'll no step further.

Per. Will you lose this sight?

Emi. I had rather see a wren hawk at a fly, Than this decision: Every blow that falls

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