ACT IISCENE I. Athens. A garden, with a castle in the backgroundEnterJailerandWooer.JAILER.I may depart with little while I live; something I may cast to you, not much. Alas, the prison I keep, though it be for great ones, yet they seldom come; before one salmon, you shall take a number of minnows. I am given out to be better lined than it can appear to me report is a true speaker. I would I were really that I am delivered to be. Marry, what I have, be it what it will, I will assure upon my daughter at the day of my death.WOOER.Sir, I demand no more than your own offer, and I will estate your daughter in what I have promised.JAILER.Well, we will talk more of this when the solemnity is past. But have you a full promise of her? When that shall be seen, I tender my consent.Enter the Jailer’sDaughter,carrying rushes.WOOER.I have sir. Here she comes.JAILER.Your friend and I have chanced to name you here, upon the old business. But no more of that now; so soon as the court hurry is over, we will have an end of it. I’ th’ meantime, look tenderly to the two prisoners. I can tell you they are princes.DAUGHTER.These strewings are for their chamber. ’Tis pity they are in prison, and ’twere pity they should be out. I do think they have patience to make any adversity ashamed. The prison itself is proud of ’em, and they have all the world in their chamber.JAILER.They are famed to be a pair of absolute men.DAUGHTER.By my troth, I think fame but stammers ’em; they stand a grise above the reach of report.JAILER.I heard them reported in the battle to be the only doers.DAUGHTER.Nay, most likely, for they are noble sufferers. I marvel how they would have looked had they been victors, that with such a constant nobility enforce a freedom out of bondage, making misery their mirth and affliction a toy to jest at.JAILER.Do they so?DAUGHTER.It seems to me they have no more sense of their captivity than I of ruling Athens. They eat well, look merrily, discourse of many things, but nothing of their own restraint and disasters. Yet sometime a divided sigh, martyred as ’twere i’ th’ deliverance, will break from one of them—when the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke that I could wish myself a sigh to be so chid, or at least a sigher to be comforted.WOOER.I never saw ’em.JAILER.The Duke himself came privately in the night, and so did they.EnterPalamonandArcite,above.What the reason of it is, I know not. Look, yonder they are; that’s Arcite looks out.DAUGHTER.No, sir, no, that’s Palamon. Arcite is the lower of the twain; you may perceive a part of him.JAILER.Go to, leave your pointing; they would not make us their object. Out of their sight.DAUGHTER.It is a holiday to look on them. Lord, the difference of men![Exeunt.]SCENE II. The prisonEnterPalamonandArcitein prison.PALAMON.How do you, noble cousin?ARCITE.How do you, sir?PALAMON.Why, strong enough to laugh at miseryAnd bear the chance of war; yet we are prisonersI fear for ever, cousin.ARCITE.I believe it,And to that destiny have patientlyLaid up my hour to come.PALAMON.O, cousin Arcite,Where is Thebes now? Where is our noble country?Where are our friends and kindreds? Never moreMust we behold those comforts, never seeThe hardy youths strive for the games of honour,Hung with the painted favours of their ladies,Like tall ships under sail; then start amongst ’em,And as an east wind leave ’em all behind us,Like lazy clouds, whilst Palamon and Arcite,Even in the wagging of a wanton leg,Outstripped the people’s praises, won the garlands,Ere they have time to wish ’em ours. O, neverShall we two exercise, like twins of honour,Our arms again, and feel our fiery horsesLike proud seas under us! Our good swords now—Better the red-eyed god of war ne’er wore—Ravished our sides, like age must run to rustAnd deck the temples of those gods that hate us;These hands shall never draw ’em out like lightningTo blast whole armies more.ARCITE.No, Palamon,Those hopes are prisoners with us. Here we are,And here the graces of our youths must witherLike a too-timely spring; here age must find usAnd, which is heaviest, Palamon, unmarried.The sweet embraces of a loving wife,Loaden with kisses, armed with thousand Cupids,Shall never clasp our necks; no issue know us,No figures of ourselves shall we e’er see,To glad our age, and like young eagles teach ’emBoldly to gaze against bright arms and say“Remember what your fathers were, and conquer!”The fair-eyed maids shall weep our banishmentsAnd in their songs curse ever-blinded FortuneTill she for shame see what a wrong she has doneTo youth and nature. This is all our world.We shall know nothing here but one another,Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes.The vine shall grow, but we shall never see it;Summer shall come, and with her all delights,But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still.PALAMON.’Tis too true, Arcite. To our Theban houndsThat shook the aged forest with their echoesNo more now must we hallow, no more shakeOur pointed javelins whilst the angry swineFlies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,Struck with our well-steeled darts. All valiant uses,The food and nourishment of noble minds,In us two here shall perish; we shall die,Which is the curse of honour, lastly,Children of grief and ignorance.ARCITE.Yet, cousin,Even from the bottom of these miseries,From all that fortune can inflict upon us,I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings,If the gods please: to hold here a brave patience,And the enjoying of our griefs together.Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perishIf I think this our prison!PALAMON.Certainly’Tis a main goodness, cousin, that our fortunesWere twined together; ’tis most true, two soulsPut in two noble bodies, let ’em sufferThe gall of hazard, so they grow together,Will never sink; they must not, say they could.A willing man dies sleeping and all’s done.ARCITE.Shall we make worthy uses of this placeThat all men hate so much?PALAMON.How, gentle cousin?ARCITE.Let’s think this prison holy sanctuary,To keep us from corruption of worse men.We are young and yet desire the ways of honour;That liberty and common conversation,The poison of pure spirits, might like women,Woo us to wander from. What worthy blessingCan be but our imaginationsMay make it ours? And here being thus together,We are an endless mine to one another;We are one another’s wife, ever begettingNew births of love; we are father, friends, acquaintance;We are, in one another, families;I am your heir, and you are mine. This placeIs our inheritance; no hard oppressorDare take this from us; here with a little patienceWe shall live long and loving. No surfeits seek us;The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seasSwallow their youth. Were we at liberty,A wife might part us lawfully, or business;Quarrels consume us; envy of ill menCrave our acquaintance. I might sicken, cousin,Where you should never know it, and so perishWithout your noble hand to close mine eyes,Or prayers to the gods. A thousand chances,Were we from hence, would sever us.PALAMON.You have made me—I thank you, cousin Arcite—almost wantonWith my captivity. What a miseryIt is to live abroad and everywhere!’Tis like a beast, methinks. I find the court here,I am sure, a more content; and all those pleasuresThat woo the wills of men to vanityI see through now, and am sufficientTo tell the world ’tis but a gaudy shadowThat old Time as he passes by takes with him.What had we been, old in the court of Creon,Where sin is justice, lust and ignoranceThe virtues of the great ones? Cousin Arcite,Had not the loving gods found this place for us,We had died as they do, ill old men, unwept,And had their epitaphs, the people’s curses.Shall I say more?ARCITE.I would hear you still.PALAMON.Ye shall.Is there record of any two that lovedBetter than we do, Arcite?ARCITE.Sure, there cannot.PALAMON.I do not think it possible our friendshipShould ever leave us.ARCITE.Till our deaths it cannot;EnterEmiliaand herWoman, below.And after death our spirits shall be ledTo those that love eternally. Speak on, sir.EMILIA.This garden has a world of pleasures in’t.What flower is this?WOMAN.’Tis called narcissus, madam.EMILIA.That was a fair boy, certain, but a fool,To love himself. Were there not maids enough?ARCITE.Pray, forward.PALAMON.Yes.EMILIA.Or were they all hard-hearted?WOMAN.They could not be to one so fair.EMILIA.Thou wouldst not.WOMAN.I think I should not, madam.EMILIA.That’s a good wench.But take heed to your kindness, though.WOMAN.Why, madam?EMILIA.Men are mad things.ARCITE.Will ye go forward, cousin?EMILIA.Canst not thou work such flowers in silk, wench?WOMAN.Yes.EMILIA.I’ll have a gown full of ’em, and of these.This is a pretty colour; will ’t not doRarely upon a skirt, wench?WOMAN.Dainty, madam.ARCITE.Cousin, cousin! How do you, sir? Why, Palamon!PALAMON.Never till now I was in prison, Arcite.ARCITE.Why, what’s the matter, man?PALAMON.Behold, and wonder!By heaven, she is a goddess.ARCITE.Ha!PALAMON.Do reverence. She is a goddess, Arcite.EMILIA.Of all flowers,Methinks a rose is best.WOMAN.Why, gentle madam?EMILIA.It is the very emblem of a maid.For when the west wind courts her gently,How modestly she blows and paints the sunWith her chaste blushes! When the north comes near her,Rude and impatient, then, like chastity,She locks her beauties in her bud again,And leaves him to base briers.WOMAN.Yet, good madam,Sometimes her modesty will blow so farShe falls for ’t. A maid,If she have any honour, would be loathTo take example by her.EMILIA.Thou art wanton.ARCITE.She is wondrous fair.PALAMON.She is all the beauty extant.EMILIA.The sun grows high; let’s walk in. Keep these flowers.We’ll see how near art can come near their colours.I am wondrous merry-hearted. I could laugh now.WOMAN.I could lie down, I am sure.EMILIA.And take one with you?WOMAN.That’s as we bargain, madam.EMILIA.Well, agree then.[ExeuntEmiliaandWoman.]PALAMON.What think you of this beauty?ARCITE.’Tis a rare one.PALAMON.Is’t but a rare one?ARCITE.Yes, a matchless beauty.PALAMON.Might not a man well lose himself, and love her?ARCITE.I cannot tell what you have done; I have,Beshrew mine eyes for’t! Now I feel my shackles.PALAMON.You love her, then?ARCITE.Who would not?PALAMON.And desire her?ARCITE.Before my liberty.PALAMON.I saw her first.ARCITE.That’s nothing.PALAMON.But it shall be.ARCITE.I saw her too.PALAMON.Yes, but you must not love her.ARCITE.I will not, as you do, to worship herAs she is heavenly and a blessed goddess.I love her as a woman, to enjoy her.So both may love.PALAMON.You shall not love at all.ARCITE.Not love at all! Who shall deny me?PALAMON.I, that first saw her; I that took possessionFirst with mine eye of all those beauties in herRevealed to mankind. If thou lovest her,Or entertain’st a hope to blast my wishes,Thou art a traitor, Arcite, and a fellowFalse as thy title to her. Friendship, blood,And all the ties between us, I disclaimIf thou once think upon her.ARCITE.Yes, I love her;And, if the lives of all my name lay on it,I must do so; I love her with my soul.If that will lose ye, farewell, Palamon.I say again, I love, and in loving her maintainI am as worthy and as free a loverAnd have as just a title to her beauty,As any Palamon, or any livingThat is a man’s son.PALAMON.Have I called thee friend?ARCITE.Yes, and have found me so. Why are you moved thus?Let me deal coldly with you: am not IPart of your blood, part of your soul? You have told meThat I was Palamon and you were Arcite.PALAMON.Yes.ARCITE.Am not I liable to those affections,Those joys, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer?PALAMON.Ye may be.ARCITE.Why then would you deal so cunningly,So strangely, so unlike a noble kinsman,To love alone? Speak truly; do you think meUnworthy of her sight?PALAMON.No; but unjust,If thou pursue that sight.ARCITE.Because anotherFirst sees the enemy, shall I stand stillAnd let mine honour down, and never charge?PALAMON.Yes, if he be but one.ARCITE.But say that oneHad rather combat me?PALAMON.Let that one say so,And use thy freedom. Else, if thou pursuest her,Be as that cursed man that hates his country,A branded villain.ARCITE.You are mad.PALAMON.I must be,Till thou art worthy, Arcite; it concerns me;And in this madness, if I hazard theeAnd take thy life, I deal but truely.ARCITE.Fie, sir!You play the child extremely. I will love her;I must, I ought to do so, and I dare,And all this justly.PALAMON.O, that now, that now,Thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune,To be one hour at liberty, and graspOur good swords in our hands! I would quickly teach theeWhat ’twere to filch affection from another!Thou art baser in it than a cutpurse.Put but thy head out of this window moreAnd, as I have a soul, I’ll nail thy life to ’t.ARCITE.Thou dar’st not, fool, thou canst not, thou art feeble.Put my head out? I’ll throw my body outAnd leap the garden, when I see her nextAnd pitch between her arms, to anger thee.EnterJailer.PALAMON.No more; the keeper’s coming. I shall liveTo knock thy brains out with my shackles.ARCITE.Do!JAILER.By your leave, gentlemen.PALAMON.Now, honest keeper?JAILER.Lord Arcite, you must presently to th’ Duke;The cause I know not yet.ARCITE.I am ready, keeper.JAILER.Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave youOf your fair cousin’s company.[ExeuntArciteandJailer.]PALAMON.And me too,Even when you please, of life.—Why is he sent for?It may be he shall marry her; he’s goodly,And like enough the Duke hath taken noticeBoth of his blood and body. But his falsehood!Why should a friend be treacherous? If thatGet him a wife so noble and so fair,Let honest men ne’er love again. Once moreI would but see this fair one. Blessed gardenAnd fruit and flowers more blessed that still blossomAs her bright eyes shine on ye! Would I were,For all the fortune of my life hereafter,Yon little tree, yon blooming apricock!How I would spread and fling my wanton armsIn at her window! I would bring her fruitFit for the gods to feed on; youth and pleasureStill as she tasted should be doubled on her;And, if she be not heavenly, I would make herSo near the gods in nature, they should fear her.EnterJailer.And then I am sure she would love me. How now, keeper?Where’s Arcite?JAILER.Banished. Prince PirithousObtained his liberty, but never moreUpon his oath and life must he set footUpon this kingdom.PALAMON.He’s a blessed man.He shall see Thebes again, and call to armsThe bold young men that, when he bids ’em charge,Fall on like fire. Arcite shall have a fortune,If he dare make himself a worthy lover,Yet in the field to strike a battle for her;And, if he lose her then, he’s a cold coward.How bravely may he bear himself to win herIf he be noble Arcite, thousand ways!Were I at liberty, I would do thingsOf such a virtuous greatness that this lady,This blushing virgin, should take manhood to herAnd seek to ravish me.JAILER.My lord for youI have this charge to—PALAMON.To discharge my life?JAILER.No, but from this place to remove your lordship;The windows are too open.PALAMON.Devils take ’em,That are so envious to me! Prithee, kill me.JAILER.And hang for’t afterward!PALAMON.By this good light,Had I a sword I would kill thee.JAILER.Why, my Lord?PALAMON.Thou bringst such pelting, scurvy news continually,Thou art not worthy life. I will not go.JAILER.Indeed, you must, my lord.PALAMON.May I see the garden?JAILER.No.PALAMON.Then I am resolved, I will not go.JAILER.I must constrain you then; and, for you are dangerous,I’ll clap more irons on you.PALAMON.Do, good keeper.I’ll shake ’em so, ye shall not sleep;I’ll make you a new morris. Must I go?JAILER.There is no remedy.PALAMON.Farewell, kind window.May rude wind never hurt thee!—O, my lady,If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was,Dream how I suffer.—Come, now bury me.[ExeuntPalamonandJailer.]SCENE III. The country near AthensEnterArcite.ARCITE.Banished the kingdom? ’Tis a benefit,A mercy I must thank ’em for; but banishedThe free enjoying of that face I die for,O, ’twas a studied punishment, a deathBeyond imagination, such a vengeanceThat, were I old and wicked, all my sinsCould never pluck upon me. Palamon,Thou hast the start now; thou shalt stay and seeHer bright eyes break each morning ’gainst thy windowAnd let in life into thee; thou shalt feedUpon the sweetness of a noble beautyThat nature ne’er exceeded nor ne’er shall.Good gods, what happiness has Palamon!Twenty to one, he’ll come to speak to her;And if she be as gentle as she’s fair,I know she’s his; he has a tongue will tameTempests and make the wild rocks wanton.Come what can come,The worst is death; I will not leave the kingdom.I know mine own is but a heap of ruins,And no redress there. If I go, he has her.I am resolved another shape shall make meOr end my fortunes. Either way I am happy.I’ll see her and be near her, or no more.Enter fourCountrymen,and one with a garland before them.FIRST COUNTRYMAN.My masters, I’ll be there, that’s certain.SECOND COUNTRYMAN.And I’ll be there.THIRD COUNTRYMAN.And I.FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Why, then, have with you, boys. ’Tis but a chiding.Let the plough play today; I’ll tickle ’t outOf the jades’ tails tomorrow.FIRST COUNTRYMAN.I am sureTo have my wife as jealous as a turkey,But that’s all one. I’ll go through; let her mumble.SECOND COUNTRYMAN.Clap her aboard tomorrow night, and stow her,And all’s made up again.THIRD COUNTRYMAN.Ay, do but putA fescue in her fist and you shall see herTake a new lesson out and be a good wench.Do we all hold against the Maying?FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Hold?What should ail us?THIRD COUNTRYMAN.Arcas will be there.SECOND COUNTRYMAN.And Sennois.And Rycas; and three better lads ne’er dancedUnder green tree. And ye know what wenches, ha?But will the dainty domine, the schoolmaster,Keep touch, do you think? For he does all, ye know.THIRD COUNTRYMAN.He’ll eat a hornbook ere he fail. Go to;The matter’s too far driven between himAnd the tanner’s daughter to let slip now;And she must see the Duke, and she must dance too.FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Shall we be lusty?SECOND COUNTRYMAN.All the boys in AthensBlow wind i’ th’ breech on ’s. And here I’ll be,And there I’ll be, for our town, and here again,And there again. Ha, boys, hey for the weavers!FIRST COUNTRYMAN.This must be done i’ th’ woods.FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.O, pardon me.SECOND COUNTRYMAN.By any means; our thing of learning says so—Where he himself will edify the DukeMost 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 man to ’s tackle;And, sweet companions, let’s rehearse, by any means,Before the ladies see us, and do sweetly,And God knows what may come on ’t.FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Content; the sports once ended, we’ll perform.Away, boys, and hold.ARCITE.By your leaves, honest friends: pray you, whither go you?FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Whither? Why, what a question’s that?ARCITE.Yes, ’tis a questionTo me that know not.THIRD COUNTRYMAN.To the games, my friend.SECOND COUNTRYMAN.Where were you bred, you know it not?ARCITE.Not far, sir;Are there such games today?FIRST COUNTRYMAN.Yes, marry, are there,And such as you never saw; the Duke himselfWill be in person there.ARCITE.What pastimes are they?SECOND COUNTRYMAN.Wrestling, and running.—’Tis a pretty fellow.THIRD COUNTRYMAN.Thou wilt not go along?ARCITE.Not yet, sir.FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Well, sir,Take your own time. Come, boys.FIRST COUNTRYMAN.My mind misgives me,This fellow has a vengeance trick o’ th’ hip;Mark how his body’s made for ’t.SECOND COUNTRYMAN.I’ll be hanged, though,If he dare venture. Hang him, plum porridge!He wrestle? He roast eggs! Come, let’s be gone, lads.[ExeuntCountrymen.]ARCITE.This is an offered opportunityI durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled—The best men called it excellent—and runSwifter than wind upon a field of corn,Curling the wealthy ears, never flew. I’ll venture,And in some poor disguise be there. Who knowsWhether my brows may not be girt with garlands,And happiness prefer me to a placeWhere I may ever dwell in sight of her?[ExitArcite.]SCENE IV. Athens. A room in the prisonEnter Jailer’sDaughteralone.DAUGHTER.Why should I love this gentleman? ’Tis oddsHe never will affect me. I am base,My father the mean keeper of his prison,And he a prince. To marry him is hopeless;To be his whore is witless. Out upon ’t!What pushes are we wenches driven toWhen fifteen once has found us! First, I saw him;I, seeing, thought he was a goodly man;He has as much to please a woman in him,If he please to bestow it so, as everThese eyes yet looked on. Next, I pitied him,And so would any young wench, o’ my conscience,That ever dreamed, or vowed her maidenheadTo a young handsome man. Then I loved him,Extremely loved him, infinitely loved him!And yet he had a cousin, fair as he too,But in my heart was Palamon, and there,Lord, what a coil he keeps! To hear himSing in an evening, what a heaven it is!And yet his songs are sad ones. Fairer spokenWas never gentleman. When I come inTo bring him water in a morning, firstHe bows his noble body, then salutes me thus:“Fair, gentle maid, good morrow. May thy goodnessGet thee a happy husband.” Once he kissed me;I loved my lips the better ten days after.Would he would do so ev’ry day! He grieves much—And me as much to see his misery.What should I do to make him know I love him?For I would fain enjoy him. Say I venturedTo 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.[Exit.]SCENE V. An open place in AthensA short flourish of cornets and shouts within. EnterTheseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Emilia; Arcitein disguise as a countryman, with a garland, Attendants, and others.THESEUS.You have done worthily. I have not seen,Since Hercules, a man of tougher sinews.Whate’er you are, you run the best and wrestle,That these times can allow.ARCITE.I am proud to please you.THESEUS.What country bred you?ARCITE.This; but far off, Prince.THESEUS.Are you a gentleman?ARCITE.My father said so;And to those gentle uses gave me life.THESEUS.Are you his heir?ARCITE.His youngest, sir.THESEUS.Your fatherSure is a happy sire then. What profess you?ARCITE.A little of all noble qualities.I could have kept a hawk and well have hallowedTo a deep cry of dogs. I dare not praiseMy feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew meWould say it was my best piece; last, and greatest,I would be thought a soldier.THESEUS.You are perfect.PIRITHOUS.Upon my soul, a proper man.EMILIA.He is so.PIRITHOUS.How do you like him, lady?HIPPOLYTA.I admire him.I have not seen so young a man so noble,If he say true, of his sort.EMILIA.Believe,His mother was a wondrous handsome woman;His face, methinks, goes that way.HIPPOLYTA.But his bodyAnd fiery mind illustrate a brave father.PIRITHOUS.Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun,Breaks through his baser garments.HIPPOLYTA.He’s well got, sure.THESEUS.What made you seek this place, sir?ARCITE.Noble Theseus,To purchase name and do my ablest serviceTo such a well-found wonder as thy worth;For only in thy court, of all the world,Dwells fair-eyed Honour.PIRITHOUS.All his words are worthy.THESEUS.Sir, we are much indebted to your travel,Nor shall you lose your wish.—Pirithous,Dispose of this fair gentleman.PIRITHOUS.Thanks, Theseus.Whate’er you are, you’re mine, and I shall give youTo a most noble service: to this lady,This bright young virgin; pray, observe her goodness.You have honoured her fair birthday with your virtues,And, as your due, you’re hers; kiss her fair hand, sir.ARCITE.Sir, you’re a noble giver.—Dearest beauty,Thus let me seal my vowed faith.[He kisses her hand.]When your servant,Your most unworthy creature, but offends you,Command him die, he shall.EMILIA.That were too cruel.If you deserve well, sir, I shall soon see ’t.You’re mine, and somewhat better than your rankI’ll use you.PIRITHOUS.I’ll see you furnished, and because you sayYou are a horseman, I must needs entreat youThis afternoon to ride, but ’tis a rough one.ARCITE.I like him better, Prince; I shall not thenFreeze in my saddle.THESEUS.Sweet, you must be ready,—And you, Emilia,—and you, friend,—and all,Tomorrow by the sun, to do observanceTo flowery May, in Dian’s wood.—Wait well, sir,Upon your mistress.—Emily, I hopeHe shall not go afoot.EMILIA.That were a shame, sir,While I have horses.—Take your choice, and whatYou want at any time, let me but know it.If you serve faithfully, I dare assure youYou’ll find a loving mistress.ARCITE.If I do not,Let me find that my father ever hated,Disgrace and blows.THESEUS.Go lead the way; you have won it.It shall be so; you shall receive all duesFit for the honour you have won; ’twere wrong else.Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a servant,That, if I were a woman, would be master.But you are wise.EMILIA.I hope too wise for that, sir.[Flourish. Exeunt.]SCENE VI. Athens. Before the prisonEnter Jailer’sDaughteralone.DAUGHTER.Let all the dukes and all the devils roar,He is at liberty! I have ventured for himAnd out I have brought him; to a little woodA mile hence I have sent him, where a cedarHigher than all the rest spreads like a planeFast by a brook, and there he shall keep closeTill I provide him files and food, for yetHis iron bracelets are not off. O Love,What a stout-hearted child thou art! My fatherDurst 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 lawFind me and then condemn me for ’t, some wenches,Some honest-hearted maids, will sing my dirgeAnd tell to memory my death was noble,Dying almost a martyr. That way he takes,I purpose is my way too. Sure he cannotBe so unmanly as to leave me here.If he do, maids will not so easilyTrust men again. And yet he has not thanked meFor what I have done; no, not so much as kissed me,And that, methinks, is not so well; nor scarcelyCould I persuade him to become a free man,He made such scruples of the wrong he didTo me and to my father. Yet I hope,When he considers more, this love of mineWill take more root within him. Let him doWhat he will with me, so he use me kindly;For use me so he shall, or I’ll proclaim him,And to his face, no man. I’ll presentlyProvide 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 shadowI’ll ever dwell. Within this hour the hubbubWill be all o’er the prison. I am thenKissing the man they look for. Farewell, father!Get many more such prisoners and such daughters,And shortly you may keep yourself. Now to him.[Exit.]
EnterJailerandWooer.
JAILER.I may depart with little while I live; something I may cast to you, not much. Alas, the prison I keep, though it be for great ones, yet they seldom come; before one salmon, you shall take a number of minnows. I am given out to be better lined than it can appear to me report is a true speaker. I would I were really that I am delivered to be. Marry, what I have, be it what it will, I will assure upon my daughter at the day of my death.
WOOER.Sir, I demand no more than your own offer, and I will estate your daughter in what I have promised.
JAILER.Well, we will talk more of this when the solemnity is past. But have you a full promise of her? When that shall be seen, I tender my consent.
Enter the Jailer’sDaughter,carrying rushes.
WOOER.I have sir. Here she comes.
JAILER.Your friend and I have chanced to name you here, upon the old business. But no more of that now; so soon as the court hurry is over, we will have an end of it. I’ th’ meantime, look tenderly to the two prisoners. I can tell you they are princes.
DAUGHTER.These strewings are for their chamber. ’Tis pity they are in prison, and ’twere pity they should be out. I do think they have patience to make any adversity ashamed. The prison itself is proud of ’em, and they have all the world in their chamber.
JAILER.They are famed to be a pair of absolute men.
DAUGHTER.By my troth, I think fame but stammers ’em; they stand a grise above the reach of report.
JAILER.I heard them reported in the battle to be the only doers.
DAUGHTER.Nay, most likely, for they are noble sufferers. I marvel how they would have looked had they been victors, that with such a constant nobility enforce a freedom out of bondage, making misery their mirth and affliction a toy to jest at.
JAILER.Do they so?
DAUGHTER.It seems to me they have no more sense of their captivity than I of ruling Athens. They eat well, look merrily, discourse of many things, but nothing of their own restraint and disasters. Yet sometime a divided sigh, martyred as ’twere i’ th’ deliverance, will break from one of them—when the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke that I could wish myself a sigh to be so chid, or at least a sigher to be comforted.
WOOER.I never saw ’em.
JAILER.The Duke himself came privately in the night, and so did they.
EnterPalamonandArcite,above.
What the reason of it is, I know not. Look, yonder they are; that’s Arcite looks out.
DAUGHTER.No, sir, no, that’s Palamon. Arcite is the lower of the twain; you may perceive a part of him.
JAILER.Go to, leave your pointing; they would not make us their object. Out of their sight.
DAUGHTER.It is a holiday to look on them. Lord, the difference of men!
[Exeunt.]
EnterPalamonandArcitein prison.
PALAMON.How do you, noble cousin?
ARCITE.How do you, sir?
PALAMON.Why, strong enough to laugh at miseryAnd bear the chance of war; yet we are prisonersI fear for ever, cousin.
ARCITE.I believe it,And to that destiny have patientlyLaid up my hour to come.
PALAMON.O, cousin Arcite,Where is Thebes now? Where is our noble country?Where are our friends and kindreds? Never moreMust we behold those comforts, never seeThe hardy youths strive for the games of honour,Hung with the painted favours of their ladies,Like tall ships under sail; then start amongst ’em,And as an east wind leave ’em all behind us,Like lazy clouds, whilst Palamon and Arcite,Even in the wagging of a wanton leg,Outstripped the people’s praises, won the garlands,Ere they have time to wish ’em ours. O, neverShall we two exercise, like twins of honour,Our arms again, and feel our fiery horsesLike proud seas under us! Our good swords now—Better the red-eyed god of war ne’er wore—Ravished our sides, like age must run to rustAnd deck the temples of those gods that hate us;These hands shall never draw ’em out like lightningTo blast whole armies more.
ARCITE.No, Palamon,Those hopes are prisoners with us. Here we are,And here the graces of our youths must witherLike a too-timely spring; here age must find usAnd, which is heaviest, Palamon, unmarried.The sweet embraces of a loving wife,Loaden with kisses, armed with thousand Cupids,Shall never clasp our necks; no issue know us,No figures of ourselves shall we e’er see,To glad our age, and like young eagles teach ’emBoldly to gaze against bright arms and say“Remember what your fathers were, and conquer!”The fair-eyed maids shall weep our banishmentsAnd in their songs curse ever-blinded FortuneTill she for shame see what a wrong she has doneTo youth and nature. This is all our world.We shall know nothing here but one another,Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes.The vine shall grow, but we shall never see it;Summer shall come, and with her all delights,But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still.
PALAMON.’Tis too true, Arcite. To our Theban houndsThat shook the aged forest with their echoesNo more now must we hallow, no more shakeOur pointed javelins whilst the angry swineFlies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,Struck with our well-steeled darts. All valiant uses,The food and nourishment of noble minds,In us two here shall perish; we shall die,Which is the curse of honour, lastly,Children of grief and ignorance.
ARCITE.Yet, cousin,Even from the bottom of these miseries,From all that fortune can inflict upon us,I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings,If the gods please: to hold here a brave patience,And the enjoying of our griefs together.Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perishIf I think this our prison!
PALAMON.Certainly’Tis a main goodness, cousin, that our fortunesWere twined together; ’tis most true, two soulsPut in two noble bodies, let ’em sufferThe gall of hazard, so they grow together,Will never sink; they must not, say they could.A willing man dies sleeping and all’s done.
ARCITE.Shall we make worthy uses of this placeThat all men hate so much?
PALAMON.How, gentle cousin?
ARCITE.Let’s think this prison holy sanctuary,To keep us from corruption of worse men.We are young and yet desire the ways of honour;That liberty and common conversation,The poison of pure spirits, might like women,Woo us to wander from. What worthy blessingCan be but our imaginationsMay make it ours? And here being thus together,We are an endless mine to one another;We are one another’s wife, ever begettingNew births of love; we are father, friends, acquaintance;We are, in one another, families;I am your heir, and you are mine. This placeIs our inheritance; no hard oppressorDare take this from us; here with a little patienceWe shall live long and loving. No surfeits seek us;The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seasSwallow their youth. Were we at liberty,A wife might part us lawfully, or business;Quarrels consume us; envy of ill menCrave our acquaintance. I might sicken, cousin,Where you should never know it, and so perishWithout your noble hand to close mine eyes,Or prayers to the gods. A thousand chances,Were we from hence, would sever us.
PALAMON.You have made me—I thank you, cousin Arcite—almost wantonWith my captivity. What a miseryIt is to live abroad and everywhere!’Tis like a beast, methinks. I find the court here,I am sure, a more content; and all those pleasuresThat woo the wills of men to vanityI see through now, and am sufficientTo tell the world ’tis but a gaudy shadowThat old Time as he passes by takes with him.What had we been, old in the court of Creon,Where sin is justice, lust and ignoranceThe virtues of the great ones? Cousin Arcite,Had not the loving gods found this place for us,We had died as they do, ill old men, unwept,And had their epitaphs, the people’s curses.Shall I say more?
ARCITE.I would hear you still.
PALAMON.Ye shall.Is there record of any two that lovedBetter than we do, Arcite?
ARCITE.Sure, there cannot.
PALAMON.I do not think it possible our friendshipShould ever leave us.
ARCITE.Till our deaths it cannot;
EnterEmiliaand herWoman, below.
And after death our spirits shall be ledTo those that love eternally. Speak on, sir.
EMILIA.This garden has a world of pleasures in’t.What flower is this?
WOMAN.’Tis called narcissus, madam.
EMILIA.That was a fair boy, certain, but a fool,To love himself. Were there not maids enough?
ARCITE.Pray, forward.
PALAMON.Yes.
EMILIA.Or were they all hard-hearted?
WOMAN.They could not be to one so fair.
EMILIA.Thou wouldst not.
WOMAN.I think I should not, madam.
EMILIA.That’s a good wench.But take heed to your kindness, though.
WOMAN.Why, madam?
EMILIA.Men are mad things.
ARCITE.Will ye go forward, cousin?
EMILIA.Canst not thou work such flowers in silk, wench?
WOMAN.Yes.
EMILIA.I’ll have a gown full of ’em, and of these.This is a pretty colour; will ’t not doRarely upon a skirt, wench?
WOMAN.Dainty, madam.
ARCITE.Cousin, cousin! How do you, sir? Why, Palamon!
PALAMON.Never till now I was in prison, Arcite.
ARCITE.Why, what’s the matter, man?
PALAMON.Behold, and wonder!By heaven, she is a goddess.
ARCITE.Ha!
PALAMON.Do reverence. She is a goddess, Arcite.
EMILIA.Of all flowers,Methinks a rose is best.
WOMAN.Why, gentle madam?
EMILIA.It is the very emblem of a maid.For when the west wind courts her gently,How modestly she blows and paints the sunWith her chaste blushes! When the north comes near her,Rude and impatient, then, like chastity,She locks her beauties in her bud again,And leaves him to base briers.
WOMAN.Yet, good madam,Sometimes her modesty will blow so farShe falls for ’t. A maid,If she have any honour, would be loathTo take example by her.
EMILIA.Thou art wanton.
ARCITE.She is wondrous fair.
PALAMON.She is all the beauty extant.
EMILIA.The sun grows high; let’s walk in. Keep these flowers.We’ll see how near art can come near their colours.I am wondrous merry-hearted. I could laugh now.
WOMAN.I could lie down, I am sure.
EMILIA.And take one with you?
WOMAN.That’s as we bargain, madam.
EMILIA.Well, agree then.
[ExeuntEmiliaandWoman.]
PALAMON.What think you of this beauty?
ARCITE.’Tis a rare one.
PALAMON.Is’t but a rare one?
ARCITE.Yes, a matchless beauty.
PALAMON.Might not a man well lose himself, and love her?
ARCITE.I cannot tell what you have done; I have,Beshrew mine eyes for’t! Now I feel my shackles.
PALAMON.You love her, then?
ARCITE.Who would not?
PALAMON.And desire her?
ARCITE.Before my liberty.
PALAMON.I saw her first.
ARCITE.That’s nothing.
PALAMON.But it shall be.
ARCITE.I saw her too.
PALAMON.Yes, but you must not love her.
ARCITE.I will not, as you do, to worship herAs she is heavenly and a blessed goddess.I love her as a woman, to enjoy her.So both may love.
PALAMON.You shall not love at all.
ARCITE.Not love at all! Who shall deny me?
PALAMON.I, that first saw her; I that took possessionFirst with mine eye of all those beauties in herRevealed to mankind. If thou lovest her,Or entertain’st a hope to blast my wishes,Thou art a traitor, Arcite, and a fellowFalse as thy title to her. Friendship, blood,And all the ties between us, I disclaimIf thou once think upon her.
ARCITE.Yes, I love her;And, if the lives of all my name lay on it,I must do so; I love her with my soul.If that will lose ye, farewell, Palamon.I say again, I love, and in loving her maintainI am as worthy and as free a loverAnd have as just a title to her beauty,As any Palamon, or any livingThat is a man’s son.
PALAMON.Have I called thee friend?
ARCITE.Yes, and have found me so. Why are you moved thus?Let me deal coldly with you: am not IPart of your blood, part of your soul? You have told meThat I was Palamon and you were Arcite.
PALAMON.Yes.
ARCITE.Am not I liable to those affections,Those joys, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer?
PALAMON.Ye may be.
ARCITE.Why then would you deal so cunningly,So strangely, so unlike a noble kinsman,To love alone? Speak truly; do you think meUnworthy of her sight?
PALAMON.No; but unjust,If thou pursue that sight.
ARCITE.Because anotherFirst sees the enemy, shall I stand stillAnd let mine honour down, and never charge?
PALAMON.Yes, if he be but one.
ARCITE.But say that oneHad rather combat me?
PALAMON.Let that one say so,And use thy freedom. Else, if thou pursuest her,Be as that cursed man that hates his country,A branded villain.
ARCITE.You are mad.
PALAMON.I must be,Till thou art worthy, Arcite; it concerns me;And in this madness, if I hazard theeAnd take thy life, I deal but truely.
ARCITE.Fie, sir!You play the child extremely. I will love her;I must, I ought to do so, and I dare,And all this justly.
PALAMON.O, that now, that now,Thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune,To be one hour at liberty, and graspOur good swords in our hands! I would quickly teach theeWhat ’twere to filch affection from another!Thou art baser in it than a cutpurse.Put but thy head out of this window moreAnd, as I have a soul, I’ll nail thy life to ’t.
ARCITE.Thou dar’st not, fool, thou canst not, thou art feeble.Put my head out? I’ll throw my body outAnd leap the garden, when I see her nextAnd pitch between her arms, to anger thee.
EnterJailer.
PALAMON.No more; the keeper’s coming. I shall liveTo knock thy brains out with my shackles.
ARCITE.Do!
JAILER.By your leave, gentlemen.
PALAMON.Now, honest keeper?
JAILER.Lord Arcite, you must presently to th’ Duke;The cause I know not yet.
ARCITE.I am ready, keeper.
JAILER.Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave youOf your fair cousin’s company.
[ExeuntArciteandJailer.]
PALAMON.And me too,Even when you please, of life.—Why is he sent for?It may be he shall marry her; he’s goodly,And like enough the Duke hath taken noticeBoth of his blood and body. But his falsehood!Why should a friend be treacherous? If thatGet him a wife so noble and so fair,Let honest men ne’er love again. Once moreI would but see this fair one. Blessed gardenAnd fruit and flowers more blessed that still blossomAs her bright eyes shine on ye! Would I were,For all the fortune of my life hereafter,Yon little tree, yon blooming apricock!How I would spread and fling my wanton armsIn at her window! I would bring her fruitFit for the gods to feed on; youth and pleasureStill as she tasted should be doubled on her;And, if she be not heavenly, I would make herSo near the gods in nature, they should fear her.
EnterJailer.
And then I am sure she would love me. How now, keeper?Where’s Arcite?
JAILER.Banished. Prince PirithousObtained his liberty, but never moreUpon his oath and life must he set footUpon this kingdom.
PALAMON.He’s a blessed man.He shall see Thebes again, and call to armsThe bold young men that, when he bids ’em charge,Fall on like fire. Arcite shall have a fortune,If he dare make himself a worthy lover,Yet in the field to strike a battle for her;And, if he lose her then, he’s a cold coward.How bravely may he bear himself to win herIf he be noble Arcite, thousand ways!Were I at liberty, I would do thingsOf such a virtuous greatness that this lady,This blushing virgin, should take manhood to herAnd seek to ravish me.
JAILER.My lord for youI have this charge to—
PALAMON.To discharge my life?
JAILER.No, but from this place to remove your lordship;The windows are too open.
PALAMON.Devils take ’em,That are so envious to me! Prithee, kill me.
JAILER.And hang for’t afterward!
PALAMON.By this good light,Had I a sword I would kill thee.
JAILER.Why, my Lord?
PALAMON.Thou bringst such pelting, scurvy news continually,Thou art not worthy life. I will not go.
JAILER.Indeed, you must, my lord.
PALAMON.May I see the garden?
JAILER.No.
PALAMON.Then I am resolved, I will not go.
JAILER.I must constrain you then; and, for you are dangerous,I’ll clap more irons on you.
PALAMON.Do, good keeper.I’ll shake ’em so, ye shall not sleep;I’ll make you a new morris. Must I go?
JAILER.There is no remedy.
PALAMON.Farewell, kind window.May rude wind never hurt thee!—O, my lady,If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was,Dream how I suffer.—Come, now bury me.
[ExeuntPalamonandJailer.]
EnterArcite.
ARCITE.Banished the kingdom? ’Tis a benefit,A mercy I must thank ’em for; but banishedThe free enjoying of that face I die for,O, ’twas a studied punishment, a deathBeyond imagination, such a vengeanceThat, were I old and wicked, all my sinsCould never pluck upon me. Palamon,Thou hast the start now; thou shalt stay and seeHer bright eyes break each morning ’gainst thy windowAnd let in life into thee; thou shalt feedUpon the sweetness of a noble beautyThat nature ne’er exceeded nor ne’er shall.Good gods, what happiness has Palamon!Twenty to one, he’ll come to speak to her;And if she be as gentle as she’s fair,I know she’s his; he has a tongue will tameTempests and make the wild rocks wanton.Come what can come,The worst is death; I will not leave the kingdom.I know mine own is but a heap of ruins,And no redress there. If I go, he has her.I am resolved another shape shall make meOr end my fortunes. Either way I am happy.I’ll see her and be near her, or no more.
Enter fourCountrymen,and one with a garland before them.
FIRST COUNTRYMAN.My masters, I’ll be there, that’s certain.
SECOND COUNTRYMAN.And I’ll be there.
THIRD COUNTRYMAN.And I.
FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Why, then, have with you, boys. ’Tis but a chiding.Let the plough play today; I’ll tickle ’t outOf the jades’ tails tomorrow.
FIRST COUNTRYMAN.I am sureTo have my wife as jealous as a turkey,But that’s all one. I’ll go through; let her mumble.
SECOND COUNTRYMAN.Clap her aboard tomorrow night, and stow her,And all’s made up again.
THIRD COUNTRYMAN.Ay, do but putA fescue in her fist and you shall see herTake a new lesson out and be a good wench.Do we all hold against the Maying?
FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Hold?What should ail us?
THIRD COUNTRYMAN.Arcas will be there.
SECOND COUNTRYMAN.And Sennois.And Rycas; and three better lads ne’er dancedUnder green tree. And ye know what wenches, ha?But will the dainty domine, the schoolmaster,Keep touch, do you think? For he does all, ye know.
THIRD COUNTRYMAN.He’ll eat a hornbook ere he fail. Go to;The matter’s too far driven between himAnd the tanner’s daughter to let slip now;And she must see the Duke, and she must dance too.
FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Shall we be lusty?
SECOND COUNTRYMAN.All the boys in AthensBlow wind i’ th’ breech on ’s. And here I’ll be,And there I’ll be, for our town, and here again,And there again. Ha, boys, hey for the weavers!
FIRST COUNTRYMAN.This must be done i’ th’ woods.
FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.O, pardon me.
SECOND COUNTRYMAN.By any means; our thing of learning says so—Where he himself will edify the DukeMost 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 man to ’s tackle;And, sweet companions, let’s rehearse, by any means,Before the ladies see us, and do sweetly,And God knows what may come on ’t.
FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Content; the sports once ended, we’ll perform.Away, boys, and hold.
ARCITE.By your leaves, honest friends: pray you, whither go you?
FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Whither? Why, what a question’s that?
ARCITE.Yes, ’tis a questionTo me that know not.
THIRD COUNTRYMAN.To the games, my friend.
SECOND COUNTRYMAN.Where were you bred, you know it not?
ARCITE.Not far, sir;Are there such games today?
FIRST COUNTRYMAN.Yes, marry, are there,And such as you never saw; the Duke himselfWill be in person there.
ARCITE.What pastimes are they?
SECOND COUNTRYMAN.Wrestling, and running.—’Tis a pretty fellow.
THIRD COUNTRYMAN.Thou wilt not go along?
ARCITE.Not yet, sir.
FOURTH COUNTRYMAN.Well, sir,Take your own time. Come, boys.
FIRST COUNTRYMAN.My mind misgives me,This fellow has a vengeance trick o’ th’ hip;Mark how his body’s made for ’t.
SECOND COUNTRYMAN.I’ll be hanged, though,If he dare venture. Hang him, plum porridge!He wrestle? He roast eggs! Come, let’s be gone, lads.
[ExeuntCountrymen.]
ARCITE.This is an offered opportunityI durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled—The best men called it excellent—and runSwifter than wind upon a field of corn,Curling the wealthy ears, never flew. I’ll venture,And in some poor disguise be there. Who knowsWhether my brows may not be girt with garlands,And happiness prefer me to a placeWhere I may ever dwell in sight of her?
[ExitArcite.]
Enter Jailer’sDaughteralone.
DAUGHTER.Why should I love this gentleman? ’Tis oddsHe never will affect me. I am base,My father the mean keeper of his prison,And he a prince. To marry him is hopeless;To be his whore is witless. Out upon ’t!What pushes are we wenches driven toWhen fifteen once has found us! First, I saw him;I, seeing, thought he was a goodly man;He has as much to please a woman in him,If he please to bestow it so, as everThese eyes yet looked on. Next, I pitied him,And so would any young wench, o’ my conscience,That ever dreamed, or vowed her maidenheadTo a young handsome man. Then I loved him,Extremely loved him, infinitely loved him!And yet he had a cousin, fair as he too,But in my heart was Palamon, and there,Lord, what a coil he keeps! To hear himSing in an evening, what a heaven it is!And yet his songs are sad ones. Fairer spokenWas never gentleman. When I come inTo bring him water in a morning, firstHe bows his noble body, then salutes me thus:“Fair, gentle maid, good morrow. May thy goodnessGet thee a happy husband.” Once he kissed me;I loved my lips the better ten days after.Would he would do so ev’ry day! He grieves much—And me as much to see his misery.What should I do to make him know I love him?For I would fain enjoy him. Say I venturedTo 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.
[Exit.]
A short flourish of cornets and shouts within. EnterTheseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Emilia; Arcitein disguise as a countryman, with a garland, Attendants, and others.
THESEUS.You have done worthily. I have not seen,Since Hercules, a man of tougher sinews.Whate’er you are, you run the best and wrestle,That these times can allow.
ARCITE.I am proud to please you.
THESEUS.What country bred you?
ARCITE.This; but far off, Prince.
THESEUS.Are you a gentleman?
ARCITE.My father said so;And to those gentle uses gave me life.
THESEUS.Are you his heir?
ARCITE.His youngest, sir.
THESEUS.Your fatherSure is a happy sire then. What profess you?
ARCITE.A little of all noble qualities.I could have kept a hawk and well have hallowedTo a deep cry of dogs. I dare not praiseMy feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew meWould say it was my best piece; last, and greatest,I would be thought a soldier.
THESEUS.You are perfect.
PIRITHOUS.Upon my soul, a proper man.
EMILIA.He is so.
PIRITHOUS.How do you like him, lady?
HIPPOLYTA.I admire him.I have not seen so young a man so noble,If he say true, of his sort.
EMILIA.Believe,His mother was a wondrous handsome woman;His face, methinks, goes that way.
HIPPOLYTA.But his bodyAnd fiery mind illustrate a brave father.
PIRITHOUS.Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun,Breaks through his baser garments.
HIPPOLYTA.He’s well got, sure.
THESEUS.What made you seek this place, sir?
ARCITE.Noble Theseus,To purchase name and do my ablest serviceTo such a well-found wonder as thy worth;For only in thy court, of all the world,Dwells fair-eyed Honour.
PIRITHOUS.All his words are worthy.
THESEUS.Sir, we are much indebted to your travel,Nor shall you lose your wish.—Pirithous,Dispose of this fair gentleman.
PIRITHOUS.Thanks, Theseus.Whate’er you are, you’re mine, and I shall give youTo a most noble service: to this lady,This bright young virgin; pray, observe her goodness.You have honoured her fair birthday with your virtues,And, as your due, you’re hers; kiss her fair hand, sir.
ARCITE.Sir, you’re a noble giver.—Dearest beauty,Thus let me seal my vowed faith.
[He kisses her hand.]
When your servant,Your most unworthy creature, but offends you,Command him die, he shall.
EMILIA.That were too cruel.If you deserve well, sir, I shall soon see ’t.You’re mine, and somewhat better than your rankI’ll use you.
PIRITHOUS.I’ll see you furnished, and because you sayYou are a horseman, I must needs entreat youThis afternoon to ride, but ’tis a rough one.
ARCITE.I like him better, Prince; I shall not thenFreeze in my saddle.
THESEUS.Sweet, you must be ready,—And you, Emilia,—and you, friend,—and all,Tomorrow by the sun, to do observanceTo flowery May, in Dian’s wood.—Wait well, sir,Upon your mistress.—Emily, I hopeHe shall not go afoot.
EMILIA.That were a shame, sir,While I have horses.—Take your choice, and whatYou want at any time, let me but know it.If you serve faithfully, I dare assure youYou’ll find a loving mistress.
ARCITE.If I do not,Let me find that my father ever hated,Disgrace and blows.
THESEUS.Go lead the way; you have won it.It shall be so; you shall receive all duesFit for the honour you have won; ’twere wrong else.Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a servant,That, if I were a woman, would be master.But you are wise.
EMILIA.I hope too wise for that, sir.
[Flourish. Exeunt.]
Enter Jailer’sDaughteralone.
DAUGHTER.Let all the dukes and all the devils roar,He is at liberty! I have ventured for himAnd out I have brought him; to a little woodA mile hence I have sent him, where a cedarHigher than all the rest spreads like a planeFast by a brook, and there he shall keep closeTill I provide him files and food, for yetHis iron bracelets are not off. O Love,What a stout-hearted child thou art! My fatherDurst 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 lawFind me and then condemn me for ’t, some wenches,Some honest-hearted maids, will sing my dirgeAnd tell to memory my death was noble,Dying almost a martyr. That way he takes,I purpose is my way too. Sure he cannotBe so unmanly as to leave me here.If he do, maids will not so easilyTrust men again. And yet he has not thanked meFor what I have done; no, not so much as kissed me,And that, methinks, is not so well; nor scarcelyCould I persuade him to become a free man,He made such scruples of the wrong he didTo me and to my father. Yet I hope,When he considers more, this love of mineWill take more root within him. Let him doWhat he will with me, so he use me kindly;For use me so he shall, or I’ll proclaim him,And to his face, no man. I’ll presentlyProvide 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 shadowI’ll ever dwell. Within this hour the hubbubWill be all o’er the prison. I am thenKissing the man they look for. Farewell, father!Get many more such prisoners and such daughters,And shortly you may keep yourself. Now to him.
[Exit.]