Actus Primus.Scaena 1. (Athens. Before a temple.)[Enter Hymen with a Torch burning: a Boy, in a white Robe before singing, and strewing Flowres: After Hymen, a Nimph, encompastin her Tresses, bearing a wheaten Garland. Then Theseus betweene two other Nimphs with wheaten Chaplets on their heades. Then Hipolita the Bride, lead by Pirithous, and another holding a Garland over her head (her Tresses likewise hanging.) After her Emilia holding up her Traine. (Artesius and Attendants.)]The Song, [Musike.]Roses their sharpe spines being gon,Not royall in their smels alone,But in their hew.Maiden Pinckes, of odour faint,Dazies smel-lesse, yet most quaintAnd sweet Time true.Prim-rose first borne child of Ver,Merry Spring times Herbinger,With her bels dimme.Oxlips, in their Cradles growing,Mary-golds, on death beds blowing,Larkes-heeles trymme.All deere natures children sweete,Ly fore Bride and Bridegroomes feete, [Strew Flowers.]Blessing their sence.Not an angle of the aire,Bird melodious, or bird faire,Is absent hence.The Crow, the slaundrous Cuckoe, norThe boding Raven, nor Chough horeNor chattring Pie,May on our Bridehouse pearch or sing,Or with them any discord bring,But from it fly.[Enter 3. Queenes in Blacke, with vailes staind, with imperiall Crownes. The 1. Queene fals downe at the foote of Theseus; The 2. fals downe at the foote of Hypolita. The 3. before Emilia.]1. QUEEN.For pitties sake and true gentilities,Heare, and respect me.2. QUEEN.For your Mothers sake,And as you wish your womb may thrive with faire ones,Heare and respect me.3. QUEENNow for the love of him whom Iove hath markdThe honour of your Bed, and for the sakeOf cleere virginity, be AdvocateFor us, and our distresses. This good deedeShall raze you out o’th Booke of TrespassesAll you are set downe there.THESEUS.Sad Lady, rise.HIPPOLITA.Stand up.EMILIA.No knees to me.What woman I may steed that is distrest,Does bind me to her.THESEUS.What’s your request? Deliver you for all.1. QUEEN.We are 3. Queenes, whose Soveraignes fel beforeThe wrath of cruell Creon; who enduredThe Beakes of Ravens, Tallents of the Kights,And pecks of Crowes, in the fowle feilds of Thebs.He will not suffer us to burne their bones,To urne their ashes, nor to take th’ offenceOf mortall loathsomenes from the blest eyeOf holy Phoebus, but infects the windesWith stench of our slaine Lords. O pitty, Duke:Thou purger of the earth, draw thy feard SwordThat does good turnes to’th world; give us the BonesOf our dead Kings, that we may Chappell them;And of thy boundles goodnes take some noteThat for our crowned heades we have no roofe,Save this which is the Lyons, and the Beares,And vault to every thing.THESEUS.Pray you, kneele not:I was transported with your Speech, and suffer’dYour knees to wrong themselves; I have heard the fortunesOf your dead Lords, which gives me such lamentingAs wakes my vengeance, and revenge for’em,King Capaneus was your Lord: the dayThat he should marry you, at such a season,As now it is with me, I met your Groome,By Marsis Altar; you were that time faire,Not Iunos Mantle fairer then your Tresses,Nor in more bounty spread her. Your wheaten wreatheWas then nor threashd, nor blasted; Fortune at youDimpled her Cheeke with smiles: Hercules our kinesman(Then weaker than your eies) laide by his Club,He tumbled downe upon his Nemean hideAnd swore his sinews thawd: O greife, and time,Fearefull consumers, you will all devoure.1. QUEEN.O, I hope some God,Some God hath put his mercy in your manhoodWhereto heel infuse powre, and presse you forthOur undertaker.THESEUS.O no knees, none, Widdow,Vnto the Helmeted Belona use them,And pray for me your Souldier.Troubled I am. [turnes away.]2. QUEEN.Honoured Hypolita,Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slaineThe Sith-tuskd Bore; that with thy Arme as strongAs it is white, wast neere to make the maleTo thy Sex captive, but that this thy Lord,Borne to uphold Creation in that honourFirst nature stilde it in, shrunke thee intoThe bownd thou wast ore-flowing, at once subduingThy force, and thy affection: SoldiresseThat equally canst poize sternenes with pitty,Whom now I know hast much more power on himThen ever he had on thee, who ow’st his strengthAnd his Love too, who is a Servant forThe Tenour of thy Speech: Deere Glasse of Ladies,Bid him that we, whom flaming war doth scortch,Vnder the shaddow of his Sword may coole us:Require him he advance it ore our heades;Speak’t in a womans key: like such a womanAs any of us three; weepe ere you faile;Lend us a knee;But touch the ground for us no longer timeThen a Doves motion, when the head’s pluckt off:Tell him if he i’th blood cizd field lay swolne,Showing the Sun his Teeth, grinning at the Moone,What you would doe.HIPPOLITA.Poore Lady, say no more:I had as leife trace this good action with youAs that whereto I am going, and never yetWent I so willing way. My Lord is takenHart deepe with your distresse: Let him consider:Ile speake anon.3. QUEEN.O my petition was [kneele to Emilia.]Set downe in yce, which by hot greefe uncandiedMelts into drops, so sorrow, wanting forme,Is prest with deeper matter.EMILIA.Pray stand up,Your greefe is written in your cheeke.3. QUEEN.O woe,You cannot reade it there, there through my teares—Like wrinckled peobles in a glassie streameYou may behold ’em. Lady, Lady, alacke,He that will all the Treasure know o’th earthMust know the Center too; he that will fishFor my least minnow, let him lead his lineTo catch one at my heart. O pardon me:Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,Makes me a Foole.EMILIA.Pray you say nothing, pray you:Who cannot feele nor see the raine, being in’t,Knowes neither wet nor dry: if that you wereThe ground-peece of some Painter, I would buy youT’instruct me gainst a Capitall greefe indeed—Such heart peirc’d demonstration; but, alas,Being a naturall Sifter of our SexYour sorrow beates so ardently upon me,That it shall make a counter reflect gainstMy Brothers heart, and warme it to some pitty,Though it were made of stone: pray, have good comfort.THESEUS.Forward to’th Temple, leave not out a IotO’th sacred Ceremony.1. QUEEN.O, This CelebrationWill long last, and be more costly thenYour Suppliants war: Remember that your FameKnowles in the eare o’th world: what you doe quicklyIs not done rashly; your first thought is moreThen others laboured meditance: your premeditatingMore then their actions: But, oh Iove! your actions,Soone as they mooves, as Asprayes doe the fish,Subdue before they touch: thinke, deere Duke, thinkeWhat beds our slaine Kings have.2. QUEEN.What greifes our beds,That our deere Lords have none.3. QUEEN.None fit for ’th dead:Those that with Cordes, Knives, drams precipitance,Weary of this worlds light, have to themselvesBeene deathes most horrid Agents, humaine graceAffords them dust and shaddow.1. QUEEN.But our LordsLy blistring fore the visitating Sunne,And were good Kings, when living.THESEUS.It is true, and I will give you comfort,To give your dead Lords graves: the which to doe,Must make some worke with Creon.1. QUEEN.And that worke presents it selfe to’th doing:Now twill take forme, the heates are gone to morrow.Then, booteles toyle must recompence it selfeWith it’s owne sweat; Now he’s secure,Not dreames we stand before your puissanceWrinching our holy begging in our eyesTo make petition cleere.2. QUEEN.Now you may take him, drunke with his victory.3. QUEEN.And his Army full of Bread, and sloth.THESEUS.Artesius, that best knowestHow to draw out fit to this enterpriseThe prim’st for this proceeding, and the numberTo carry such a businesse, forth and levyOur worthiest Instruments, whilst we despatchThis grand act of our life, this daring deedeOf Fate in wedlocke.1. QUEEN.Dowagers, take hands;Let us be Widdowes to our woes: delayCommends us to a famishing hope.ALL.Farewell.2. QUEEN.We come unseasonably: But when could greefeCull forth, as unpanged judgement can, fit’st timeFor best solicitation.THESEUS.Why, good Ladies,This is a service, whereto I am going,Greater then any was; it more imports meThen all the actions that I have foregone,Or futurely can cope.1. QUEEN.The more proclaimingOur suit shall be neglected: when her ArmesAble to locke Iove from a Synod, shallBy warranting Moone-light corslet thee, oh, whenHer twyning Cherries shall their sweetnes fallVpon thy tastefull lips, what wilt thou thinkeOf rotten Kings or blubberd Queenes, what careFor what thou feelst not? what thou feelst being ableTo make Mars spurne his Drom. O, if thou couchBut one night with her, every howre in’t willTake hostage of thee for a hundred, andThou shalt remember nothing more then whatThat Banket bids thee too.HIPPOLITA.Though much unlike [Kneeling.]You should be so transported, as much sorryI should be such a Suitour; yet I thinke,Did I not by th’abstayning of my joy,Which breeds a deeper longing, cure their surfeitThat craves a present medcine, I should pluckeAll Ladies scandall on me. Therefore, Sir,As I shall here make tryall of my prayres,Either presuming them to have some force,Or sentencing for ay their vigour dombe:Prorogue this busines we are going about, and hangYour Sheild afore your Heart, about that neckeWhich is my ffee, and which I freely lendTo doe these poore Queenes service.ALL QUEENS.Oh helpe now,Our Cause cries for your knee.EMILIA.If you grant not [Kneeling.]My Sister her petition in that force,With that Celerity and nature, whichShee makes it in, from henceforth ile not dareTo aske you any thing, nor be so hardyEver to take a Husband.THESEUS.Pray stand up.I am entreating of my selfe to doeThat which you kneele to have me. Pyrithous,Leade on the Bride; get you and pray the GodsFor successe, and returne; omit not any thingIn the pretended Celebration. Queenes,Follow your Soldier. As before, hence you [to Artesius]And at the banckes of Aulis meete us withThe forces you can raise, where we shall findeThe moytie of a number, for a businesMore bigger look’t. Since that our Theame is haste,I stamp this kisse upon thy currant lippe;Sweete, keepe it as my Token. Set you forward,For I will see you gone. [Exeunt towards the Temple.]Farewell, my beauteous Sister: Pyrithous,Keepe the feast full, bate not an howre on’t.PERITHOUS.Sir,Ile follow you at heeles; The Feasts solempnityShall want till your returne.THESEUS.Cosen, I charge youBoudge not from Athens; We shall be returningEre you can end this Feast, of which, I pray you,Make no abatement; once more, farewell all.1. QUEEN.Thus do’st thou still make good the tongue o’th world.2. QUEEN.And earnst a Deity equal with Mars.3. QUEEN.If not above him, forThou being but mortall makest affections bendTo Godlike honours; they themselves, some say,Grone under such a Mastry.THESEUS.As we are men,Thus should we doe; being sensually subdude,We loose our humane tytle. Good cheere, Ladies. [Florish.]Now turne we towards your Comforts. [Exeunt.]Scaena 2. (Thebs).[Enter Palamon, and Arcite.]ARCITE.Deere Palamon, deerer in love then BloodAnd our prime Cosen, yet unhardned inThe Crimes of nature; Let us leave the CittyThebs, and the temptings in’t, before we furtherSully our glosse of youth:And here to keepe in abstinence we shameAs in Incontinence; for not to swimI’th aide o’th Current were almost to sincke,At least to frustrate striving, and to followThe common Streame, twold bring us to an EdyWhere we should turne or drowne; if labour through,Our gaine but life, and weakenes.PALAMON.Your adviceIs cride up with example: what strange ruinsSince first we went to Schoole, may we perceiveWalking in Thebs? Skars, and bare weedesThe gaine o’th Martialist, who did propoundTo his bold ends honour, and golden Ingots,Which though he won, he had not, and now flurtedBy peace for whom he fought: who then shall offerTo Marsis so scornd Altar? I doe bleedeWhen such I meete, and wish great Iuno wouldResume her ancient fit of IelouzieTo get the Soldier worke, that peace might purgeFor her repletion, and retaine anewHer charitable heart now hard, and harsherThen strife or war could be.ARCITE.Are you not out?Meete you no ruine but the Soldier inThe Cranckes and turnes of Thebs? you did beginAs if you met decaies of many kindes:Perceive you none, that doe arowse your pittyBut th’un-considerd Soldier?PALAMON.Yes, I pittyDecaies where ere I finde them, but such mostThat, sweating in an honourable Toyle,Are paide with yce to coole ’em.ARCITE.Tis not thisI did begin to speake of: This is vertueOf no respect in Thebs; I spake of ThebsHow dangerous if we will keepe our Honours,It is for our resyding, where every evillHath a good cullor; where eve’ry seeming good’sA certaine evill, where not to be ev’n IumpeAs they are, here were to be strangers, andSuch things to be, meere Monsters.PALAMON.Tis in our power,(Vnlesse we feare that Apes can Tutor’s) toBe Masters of our manners: what neede IAffect anothers gate, which is not catchingWhere there is faith, or to be fond uponAnothers way of speech, when by mine owneI may be reasonably conceiv’d; sav’d too,Speaking it truly? why am I boundBy any generous bond to follow himFollowes his Taylor, haply so long untillThe follow’d make pursuit? or let me know,Why mine owne Barber is unblest, with himMy poore Chinne too, for tis not Cizard iustTo such a Favorites glasse: What Cannon is thereThat does command my Rapier from my hipTo dangle’t in my hand, or to go tip toeBefore the streete be foule? Either I amThe fore-horse in the Teame, or I am noneThat draw i’th sequent trace: these poore sleight soresNeede not a plantin; That which rips my bosomeAlmost to’th heart’s—ARCITE.Our Vncle Creon.PALAMON.He,A most unbounded Tyrant, whose successesMakes heaven unfeard, and villany assuredBeyond its power there’s nothing, almost putsFaith in a feavour, and deifies aloneVoluble chance; who onely attributesThe faculties of other InstrumentsTo his owne Nerves and act; Commands men service,And what they winne in’t, boot and glory; on(e)That feares not to do harm; good, dares not; LetThe blood of mine that’s sibbe to him be sucktFrom me with Leeches; Let them breake and fallOff me with that corruption.ARCITE.Cleere spirited Cozen,Lets leave his Court, that we may nothing shareOf his lowd infamy: for our milkeWill relish of the pasture, and we mustBe vile or disobedient, not his kinesmenIn blood, unlesse in quality.PALAMON.Nothing truer:I thinke the Ecchoes of his shames have dea’ftThe eares of heav’nly Iustice: widdows cryesDescend againe into their throates, and have not[enter Valerius.]Due audience of the Gods.—Valerius!VALERIUS.The King cals for you; yet be leaden footed,Till his great rage be off him. Phebus, whenHe broke his whipstocke and exclaimd againstThe Horses of the Sun, but whisperd tooThe lowdenesse of his Fury.PALAMON.Small windes shake him:But whats the matter?VALERIUS.Theseus (who where he threates appals,) hath sentDeadly defyance to him, and pronouncesRuine to Thebs; who is at hand to sealeThe promise of his wrath.ARCITE.Let him approach;But that we feare the Gods in him, he brings notA jot of terrour to us; Yet what manThirds his owne worth (the case is each of ours)When that his actions dregd with minde assurdTis bad he goes about?PALAMON.Leave that unreasond.Our services stand now for Thebs, not Creon,Yet to be neutrall to him were dishonour;Rebellious to oppose: therefore we mustWith him stand to the mercy of our Fate,Who hath bounded our last minute.ARCITE.So we must.Ist sed this warres a foote? or it shall be,On faile of some condition?VALERIUS.Tis in motionThe intelligence of state came in the instantWith the defier.PALAMON.Lets to the king, who, were heA quarter carrier of that honour whichHis Enemy come in, the blood we ventureShould be as for our health, which were not spent,Rather laide out for purchase: but, alas,Our hands advanc’d before our hearts, what willThe fall o’th stroke doe damage?ARCITE.Let th’event,That never erring Arbitratour, tell usWhen we know all our selves, and let us followThe becking of our chance. [Exeunt.]Scaena 3. (Before the gates of Athens.)[Enter Pirithous, Hipolita, Emilia.]PERITHOUS.No further.HIPPOLITA.Sir, farewell; repeat my wishesTo our great Lord, of whose succes I dare notMake any timerous question; yet I wish himExces and overflow of power, and’t might be,To dure ill-dealing fortune: speede to him,Store never hurtes good Gouernours.PERITHOUS.Though I knowHis Ocean needes not my poore drops, yet theyMust yeild their tribute there. My precious Maide,Those best affections, that the heavens infuseIn their best temperd peices, keepe enthroandIn your deare heart.EMILIA.Thanckes, Sir. Remember meTo our all royall Brother, for whose speedeThe great Bellona ile sollicite; andSince in our terrene State petitions are notWithout giftes understood, Ile offer to herWhat I shall be advised she likes: our heartsAre in his Army, in his Tent.HIPPOLITA.In’s bosome:We have bin Soldiers, and wee cannot weepeWhen our Friends don their helmes, or put to sea,Or tell of Babes broachd on the Launce, or womenThat have sod their Infants in (and after eate them)The brine, they wept at killing ’em; Then ifYou stay to see of us such Spincsters, weShould hold you here for ever.PERITHOUS.Peace be to you,As I pursue this war, which shall be thenBeyond further requiring. [Exit Pir.]EMILIA.How his longingFollowes his Friend! since his depart, his sportesThough craving seriousnes, and skill, past slightlyHis careles execution, where nor gaineMade him regard, or losse consider; butPlaying one busines in his hand, anotherDirecting in his head, his minde, nurse equallTo these so diffring Twyns—have you observ’d him,Since our great Lord departed?HIPPOLITA.With much labour,And I did love him fort: they two have CabindIn many as dangerous, as poore a Corner,Perill and want contending; they have skiftTorrents whose roring tyranny and powerI’th least of these was dreadfull, and they haveFought out together, where Deaths-selfe was lodgd,Yet fate hath brought them off: Their knot of love,Tide, weau’d, intangled, with so true, so long,And with a finger of so deepe a cunning,May be outworne, never undone. I thinkeTheseus cannot be umpire to himselfe,Cleaving his conscience into twaine and doingEach side like Iustice, which he loves best.EMILIA.DoubtlesseThere is a best, and reason has no mannersTo say it is not you: I was acquaintedOnce with a time, when I enjoyd a Play-fellow;You were at wars, when she the grave enrichd,Who made too proud the Bed, tooke leave o th Moone(Which then lookt pale at parting) when our countWas each eleven.HIPPOLITA.Twas Flaui(n)a.EMILIA.Yes.You talke of Pirithous and Theseus love;Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasond,More buckled with strong Iudgement and their needesThe one of th’other may be said to water [2. Hearses ready with Palamon: and Arcite: the 3. Queenes. Theseus: and his Lordes ready.]Their intertangled rootes of love; but IAnd shee I sigh and spoke of were things innocent,Lou’d for we did, and like the ElementsThat know not what, nor why, yet doe effectRare issues by their operance, our soulesDid so to one another; what she lik’d,Was then of me approov’d, what not, condemd,No more arraignment; the flowre that I would pluckeAnd put betweene my breasts (then but beginningTo swell about the blossome) oh, she would longTill shee had such another, and commit itTo the like innocent Cradle, where Phenix likeThey dide in perfume: on my head no toyBut was her patterne; her affections (pretty,Though, happely, her careles were) I followedFor my most serious decking; had mine eareStolne some new aire, or at adventure humd onFrom musicall Coynadge, why it was a noteWhereon her spirits would sojourne (rather dwell on)And sing it in her slumbers. This rehearsall(Which ev’ry innocent wots well comes inLike old importments bastard) has this end,That the true love tweene Mayde, and mayde, may beMore then in sex idividuall.HIPPOLITA.Y’are out of breathAnd this high speeded pace, is but to sayThat you shall never like the Maide FlavinaLove any that’s calld Man.EMILIA.I am sure I shall not.HIPPOLITA.Now, alacke, weake Sister,I must no more beleeve thee in this point(Though in’t I know thou dost beleeve thy selfe,)Then I will trust a sickely appetite,That loathes even as it longs; but, sure, my Sister,If I were ripe for your perswasion, youHave saide enough to shake me from the ArmeOf the all noble Theseus, for whose fortunesI will now in, and kneele with great assurance,That we, more then his Pirothous, possesseThe high throne in his heart.EMILIA.I am notAgainst your faith; yet I continew mine. [Exeunt. Cornets.]Scaena 4. (A field before Thebes. Dead bodies lying on the ground.)[A Battaile strooke within: Then a Retrait: Florish. Then Enter Theseus (victor), (Herald and Attendants:) the three Queenes meete him, and fall on their faces before him.]1. QUEEN.To thee no starre be darke.2. QUEEN.Both heaven and earthFriend thee for ever.3. QUEEN.All the good that mayBe wishd upon thy head, I cry Amen too’t.THESEUS.Th’imparciall Gods, who from the mounted heavensView us their mortall Heard, behold who erre,And in their time chastice: goe and finde outThe bones of your dead Lords, and honour themWith treble Ceremonie; rather then a gapShould be in their deere rights, we would supply’t.But those we will depute, which shall investYou in your dignities, and even each thingOur hast does leave imperfect: So, adiew,And heavens good eyes looke on you. What are those? [ExeuntQueenes.]HERALD.Men of great quality, as may be judgdBy their appointment; Sone of Thebs have told’sThey are Sisters children, Nephewes to the King.THESEUS.By’th Helme of Mars, I saw them in the war,Like to a paire of Lions, smeard with prey,Make lanes in troopes agast. I fixt my noteConstantly on them; for they were a markeWorth a god’s view: what prisoner was’t that told meWhen I enquired their names?HERALD.Wi’leave, they’r called Arcite and Palamon.THESEUS.Tis right: those, those. They are not dead?HERALD.Nor in a state of life: had they bin taken,When their last hurts were given, twas possible [3. Hearsesready.]They might have bin recovered; Yet they breatheAnd haue the name of men.THESEUS.Then like men use ’em.The very lees of such (millions of rates)Exceede the wine of others: all our SurgionsConvent in their behoofe; our richest balmesRather then niggard, waft: their lives concerne usMuch more then Thebs is worth: rather then have ’emFreed of this plight, and in their morning state(Sound and at liberty) I would ’em dead;But forty thousand fold we had rather have ’emPrisoners to us then death. Beare ’em speedilyFrom our kinde aire, to them unkinde, and ministerWhat man to man may doe—for our sake more,Since I have knowne frights, fury, friends beheastes,Loves provocations, zeale, a mistris Taske,Desire of liberty, a feavour, madnes,Hath set a marke which nature could not reach tooWithout some imposition: sicknes in willOr wrastling strength in reason. For our LoveAnd great Appollos mercy, all our bestTheir best skill tender. Leade into the Citty,Where having bound things scatterd, we will post [Florish.]To Athens for(e) our Army [Exeunt. Musicke.]Scaena 5. (Another part of the same.)[Enter the Queenes with the Hearses of their Knightes, in a Funerall Solempnity, &c.]Vrnes and odours bring away,Vapours, sighes, darken the day;Our dole more deadly lookes than dying;Balmes, and Gummes, and heavy cheeres,Sacred vials fill’d with teares,And clamors through the wild ayre flying.Come all sad and solempne Showes,That are quick-eyd pleasures foes;We convent nought else but woes.We convent, &c.3. QUEEN.This funeral path brings to your housholds grave:Ioy ceaze on you againe: peace sleepe with him.2. QUEEN.And this to yours.1. QUEEN.Yours this way: Heavens lendA thousand differing waies to one sure end.3. QUEEN.This world’s a Citty full of straying Streetes, And Death’s the market place, where each one meetes. [Exeunt severally.]
[Enter Hymen with a Torch burning: a Boy, in a white Robe before singing, and strewing Flowres: After Hymen, a Nimph, encompastin her Tresses, bearing a wheaten Garland. Then Theseus betweene two other Nimphs with wheaten Chaplets on their heades. Then Hipolita the Bride, lead by Pirithous, and another holding a Garland over her head (her Tresses likewise hanging.) After her Emilia holding up her Traine. (Artesius and Attendants.)]
The Song, [Musike.]
Roses their sharpe spines being gon,Not royall in their smels alone,But in their hew.Maiden Pinckes, of odour faint,Dazies smel-lesse, yet most quaintAnd sweet Time true.
Prim-rose first borne child of Ver,Merry Spring times Herbinger,With her bels dimme.Oxlips, in their Cradles growing,Mary-golds, on death beds blowing,Larkes-heeles trymme.
All deere natures children sweete,Ly fore Bride and Bridegroomes feete, [Strew Flowers.]Blessing their sence.Not an angle of the aire,Bird melodious, or bird faire,Is absent hence.
The Crow, the slaundrous Cuckoe, norThe boding Raven, nor Chough horeNor chattring Pie,May on our Bridehouse pearch or sing,Or with them any discord bring,But from it fly.
[Enter 3. Queenes in Blacke, with vailes staind, with imperiall Crownes. The 1. Queene fals downe at the foote of Theseus; The 2. fals downe at the foote of Hypolita. The 3. before Emilia.]
1. QUEEN.For pitties sake and true gentilities,Heare, and respect me.
2. QUEEN.For your Mothers sake,And as you wish your womb may thrive with faire ones,Heare and respect me.
3. QUEENNow for the love of him whom Iove hath markdThe honour of your Bed, and for the sakeOf cleere virginity, be AdvocateFor us, and our distresses. This good deedeShall raze you out o’th Booke of TrespassesAll you are set downe there.
THESEUS.Sad Lady, rise.
HIPPOLITA.Stand up.
EMILIA.No knees to me.What woman I may steed that is distrest,Does bind me to her.
THESEUS.What’s your request? Deliver you for all.
1. QUEEN.We are 3. Queenes, whose Soveraignes fel beforeThe wrath of cruell Creon; who enduredThe Beakes of Ravens, Tallents of the Kights,And pecks of Crowes, in the fowle feilds of Thebs.He will not suffer us to burne their bones,To urne their ashes, nor to take th’ offenceOf mortall loathsomenes from the blest eyeOf holy Phoebus, but infects the windesWith stench of our slaine Lords. O pitty, Duke:Thou purger of the earth, draw thy feard SwordThat does good turnes to’th world; give us the BonesOf our dead Kings, that we may Chappell them;And of thy boundles goodnes take some noteThat for our crowned heades we have no roofe,Save this which is the Lyons, and the Beares,And vault to every thing.
THESEUS.Pray you, kneele not:I was transported with your Speech, and suffer’dYour knees to wrong themselves; I have heard the fortunesOf your dead Lords, which gives me such lamentingAs wakes my vengeance, and revenge for’em,King Capaneus was your Lord: the dayThat he should marry you, at such a season,As now it is with me, I met your Groome,By Marsis Altar; you were that time faire,Not Iunos Mantle fairer then your Tresses,Nor in more bounty spread her. Your wheaten wreatheWas then nor threashd, nor blasted; Fortune at youDimpled her Cheeke with smiles: Hercules our kinesman(Then weaker than your eies) laide by his Club,He tumbled downe upon his Nemean hideAnd swore his sinews thawd: O greife, and time,Fearefull consumers, you will all devoure.
1. QUEEN.O, I hope some God,Some God hath put his mercy in your manhoodWhereto heel infuse powre, and presse you forthOur undertaker.
THESEUS.O no knees, none, Widdow,Vnto the Helmeted Belona use them,And pray for me your Souldier.Troubled I am. [turnes away.]
2. QUEEN.Honoured Hypolita,Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slaineThe Sith-tuskd Bore; that with thy Arme as strongAs it is white, wast neere to make the maleTo thy Sex captive, but that this thy Lord,Borne to uphold Creation in that honourFirst nature stilde it in, shrunke thee intoThe bownd thou wast ore-flowing, at once subduingThy force, and thy affection: SoldiresseThat equally canst poize sternenes with pitty,Whom now I know hast much more power on himThen ever he had on thee, who ow’st his strengthAnd his Love too, who is a Servant forThe Tenour of thy Speech: Deere Glasse of Ladies,Bid him that we, whom flaming war doth scortch,Vnder the shaddow of his Sword may coole us:Require him he advance it ore our heades;Speak’t in a womans key: like such a womanAs any of us three; weepe ere you faile;Lend us a knee;But touch the ground for us no longer timeThen a Doves motion, when the head’s pluckt off:Tell him if he i’th blood cizd field lay swolne,Showing the Sun his Teeth, grinning at the Moone,What you would doe.
HIPPOLITA.Poore Lady, say no more:I had as leife trace this good action with youAs that whereto I am going, and never yetWent I so willing way. My Lord is takenHart deepe with your distresse: Let him consider:Ile speake anon.
3. QUEEN.O my petition was [kneele to Emilia.]Set downe in yce, which by hot greefe uncandiedMelts into drops, so sorrow, wanting forme,Is prest with deeper matter.
EMILIA.Pray stand up,Your greefe is written in your cheeke.
3. QUEEN.O woe,You cannot reade it there, there through my teares—Like wrinckled peobles in a glassie streameYou may behold ’em. Lady, Lady, alacke,He that will all the Treasure know o’th earthMust know the Center too; he that will fishFor my least minnow, let him lead his lineTo catch one at my heart. O pardon me:Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,Makes me a Foole.
EMILIA.Pray you say nothing, pray you:Who cannot feele nor see the raine, being in’t,Knowes neither wet nor dry: if that you wereThe ground-peece of some Painter, I would buy youT’instruct me gainst a Capitall greefe indeed—Such heart peirc’d demonstration; but, alas,Being a naturall Sifter of our SexYour sorrow beates so ardently upon me,That it shall make a counter reflect gainstMy Brothers heart, and warme it to some pitty,Though it were made of stone: pray, have good comfort.
THESEUS.Forward to’th Temple, leave not out a IotO’th sacred Ceremony.
1. QUEEN.O, This CelebrationWill long last, and be more costly thenYour Suppliants war: Remember that your FameKnowles in the eare o’th world: what you doe quicklyIs not done rashly; your first thought is moreThen others laboured meditance: your premeditatingMore then their actions: But, oh Iove! your actions,Soone as they mooves, as Asprayes doe the fish,Subdue before they touch: thinke, deere Duke, thinkeWhat beds our slaine Kings have.
2. QUEEN.What greifes our beds,That our deere Lords have none.
3. QUEEN.None fit for ’th dead:Those that with Cordes, Knives, drams precipitance,Weary of this worlds light, have to themselvesBeene deathes most horrid Agents, humaine graceAffords them dust and shaddow.
1. QUEEN.But our LordsLy blistring fore the visitating Sunne,And were good Kings, when living.
THESEUS.It is true, and I will give you comfort,To give your dead Lords graves: the which to doe,Must make some worke with Creon.
1. QUEEN.And that worke presents it selfe to’th doing:Now twill take forme, the heates are gone to morrow.Then, booteles toyle must recompence it selfeWith it’s owne sweat; Now he’s secure,Not dreames we stand before your puissanceWrinching our holy begging in our eyesTo make petition cleere.
2. QUEEN.Now you may take him, drunke with his victory.
3. QUEEN.And his Army full of Bread, and sloth.
THESEUS.Artesius, that best knowestHow to draw out fit to this enterpriseThe prim’st for this proceeding, and the numberTo carry such a businesse, forth and levyOur worthiest Instruments, whilst we despatchThis grand act of our life, this daring deedeOf Fate in wedlocke.
1. QUEEN.Dowagers, take hands;Let us be Widdowes to our woes: delayCommends us to a famishing hope.
ALL.Farewell.
2. QUEEN.We come unseasonably: But when could greefeCull forth, as unpanged judgement can, fit’st timeFor best solicitation.
THESEUS.Why, good Ladies,This is a service, whereto I am going,Greater then any was; it more imports meThen all the actions that I have foregone,Or futurely can cope.
1. QUEEN.The more proclaimingOur suit shall be neglected: when her ArmesAble to locke Iove from a Synod, shallBy warranting Moone-light corslet thee, oh, whenHer twyning Cherries shall their sweetnes fallVpon thy tastefull lips, what wilt thou thinkeOf rotten Kings or blubberd Queenes, what careFor what thou feelst not? what thou feelst being ableTo make Mars spurne his Drom. O, if thou couchBut one night with her, every howre in’t willTake hostage of thee for a hundred, andThou shalt remember nothing more then whatThat Banket bids thee too.
HIPPOLITA.Though much unlike [Kneeling.]You should be so transported, as much sorryI should be such a Suitour; yet I thinke,Did I not by th’abstayning of my joy,Which breeds a deeper longing, cure their surfeitThat craves a present medcine, I should pluckeAll Ladies scandall on me. Therefore, Sir,As I shall here make tryall of my prayres,Either presuming them to have some force,Or sentencing for ay their vigour dombe:Prorogue this busines we are going about, and hangYour Sheild afore your Heart, about that neckeWhich is my ffee, and which I freely lendTo doe these poore Queenes service.
ALL QUEENS.Oh helpe now,Our Cause cries for your knee.
EMILIA.If you grant not [Kneeling.]My Sister her petition in that force,With that Celerity and nature, whichShee makes it in, from henceforth ile not dareTo aske you any thing, nor be so hardyEver to take a Husband.
THESEUS.Pray stand up.I am entreating of my selfe to doeThat which you kneele to have me. Pyrithous,Leade on the Bride; get you and pray the GodsFor successe, and returne; omit not any thingIn the pretended Celebration. Queenes,Follow your Soldier. As before, hence you [to Artesius]And at the banckes of Aulis meete us withThe forces you can raise, where we shall findeThe moytie of a number, for a businesMore bigger look’t. Since that our Theame is haste,I stamp this kisse upon thy currant lippe;Sweete, keepe it as my Token. Set you forward,For I will see you gone. [Exeunt towards the Temple.]Farewell, my beauteous Sister: Pyrithous,Keepe the feast full, bate not an howre on’t.
PERITHOUS.Sir,Ile follow you at heeles; The Feasts solempnityShall want till your returne.
THESEUS.Cosen, I charge youBoudge not from Athens; We shall be returningEre you can end this Feast, of which, I pray you,Make no abatement; once more, farewell all.
1. QUEEN.Thus do’st thou still make good the tongue o’th world.
2. QUEEN.And earnst a Deity equal with Mars.
3. QUEEN.If not above him, forThou being but mortall makest affections bendTo Godlike honours; they themselves, some say,Grone under such a Mastry.
THESEUS.As we are men,Thus should we doe; being sensually subdude,We loose our humane tytle. Good cheere, Ladies. [Florish.]Now turne we towards your Comforts. [Exeunt.]
[Enter Palamon, and Arcite.]
ARCITE.Deere Palamon, deerer in love then BloodAnd our prime Cosen, yet unhardned inThe Crimes of nature; Let us leave the CittyThebs, and the temptings in’t, before we furtherSully our glosse of youth:And here to keepe in abstinence we shameAs in Incontinence; for not to swimI’th aide o’th Current were almost to sincke,At least to frustrate striving, and to followThe common Streame, twold bring us to an EdyWhere we should turne or drowne; if labour through,Our gaine but life, and weakenes.
PALAMON.Your adviceIs cride up with example: what strange ruinsSince first we went to Schoole, may we perceiveWalking in Thebs? Skars, and bare weedesThe gaine o’th Martialist, who did propoundTo his bold ends honour, and golden Ingots,Which though he won, he had not, and now flurtedBy peace for whom he fought: who then shall offerTo Marsis so scornd Altar? I doe bleedeWhen such I meete, and wish great Iuno wouldResume her ancient fit of IelouzieTo get the Soldier worke, that peace might purgeFor her repletion, and retaine anewHer charitable heart now hard, and harsherThen strife or war could be.
ARCITE.Are you not out?Meete you no ruine but the Soldier inThe Cranckes and turnes of Thebs? you did beginAs if you met decaies of many kindes:Perceive you none, that doe arowse your pittyBut th’un-considerd Soldier?
PALAMON.Yes, I pittyDecaies where ere I finde them, but such mostThat, sweating in an honourable Toyle,Are paide with yce to coole ’em.
ARCITE.Tis not thisI did begin to speake of: This is vertueOf no respect in Thebs; I spake of ThebsHow dangerous if we will keepe our Honours,It is for our resyding, where every evillHath a good cullor; where eve’ry seeming good’sA certaine evill, where not to be ev’n IumpeAs they are, here were to be strangers, andSuch things to be, meere Monsters.
PALAMON.Tis in our power,(Vnlesse we feare that Apes can Tutor’s) toBe Masters of our manners: what neede IAffect anothers gate, which is not catchingWhere there is faith, or to be fond uponAnothers way of speech, when by mine owneI may be reasonably conceiv’d; sav’d too,Speaking it truly? why am I boundBy any generous bond to follow himFollowes his Taylor, haply so long untillThe follow’d make pursuit? or let me know,Why mine owne Barber is unblest, with himMy poore Chinne too, for tis not Cizard iustTo such a Favorites glasse: What Cannon is thereThat does command my Rapier from my hipTo dangle’t in my hand, or to go tip toeBefore the streete be foule? Either I amThe fore-horse in the Teame, or I am noneThat draw i’th sequent trace: these poore sleight soresNeede not a plantin; That which rips my bosomeAlmost to’th heart’s—
ARCITE.Our Vncle Creon.
PALAMON.He,A most unbounded Tyrant, whose successesMakes heaven unfeard, and villany assuredBeyond its power there’s nothing, almost putsFaith in a feavour, and deifies aloneVoluble chance; who onely attributesThe faculties of other InstrumentsTo his owne Nerves and act; Commands men service,And what they winne in’t, boot and glory; on(e)That feares not to do harm; good, dares not; LetThe blood of mine that’s sibbe to him be sucktFrom me with Leeches; Let them breake and fallOff me with that corruption.
ARCITE.Cleere spirited Cozen,Lets leave his Court, that we may nothing shareOf his lowd infamy: for our milkeWill relish of the pasture, and we mustBe vile or disobedient, not his kinesmenIn blood, unlesse in quality.
PALAMON.Nothing truer:I thinke the Ecchoes of his shames have dea’ftThe eares of heav’nly Iustice: widdows cryesDescend againe into their throates, and have not
[enter Valerius.]
Due audience of the Gods.—Valerius!
VALERIUS.The King cals for you; yet be leaden footed,Till his great rage be off him. Phebus, whenHe broke his whipstocke and exclaimd againstThe Horses of the Sun, but whisperd tooThe lowdenesse of his Fury.
PALAMON.Small windes shake him:But whats the matter?
VALERIUS.Theseus (who where he threates appals,) hath sentDeadly defyance to him, and pronouncesRuine to Thebs; who is at hand to sealeThe promise of his wrath.
ARCITE.Let him approach;But that we feare the Gods in him, he brings notA jot of terrour to us; Yet what manThirds his owne worth (the case is each of ours)When that his actions dregd with minde assurdTis bad he goes about?
PALAMON.Leave that unreasond.Our services stand now for Thebs, not Creon,Yet to be neutrall to him were dishonour;Rebellious to oppose: therefore we mustWith him stand to the mercy of our Fate,Who hath bounded our last minute.
ARCITE.So we must.Ist sed this warres a foote? or it shall be,On faile of some condition?
VALERIUS.Tis in motionThe intelligence of state came in the instantWith the defier.
PALAMON.Lets to the king, who, were heA quarter carrier of that honour whichHis Enemy come in, the blood we ventureShould be as for our health, which were not spent,Rather laide out for purchase: but, alas,Our hands advanc’d before our hearts, what willThe fall o’th stroke doe damage?
ARCITE.Let th’event,That never erring Arbitratour, tell usWhen we know all our selves, and let us followThe becking of our chance. [Exeunt.]
[Enter Pirithous, Hipolita, Emilia.]
PERITHOUS.No further.
HIPPOLITA.Sir, farewell; repeat my wishesTo our great Lord, of whose succes I dare notMake any timerous question; yet I wish himExces and overflow of power, and’t might be,To dure ill-dealing fortune: speede to him,Store never hurtes good Gouernours.
PERITHOUS.Though I knowHis Ocean needes not my poore drops, yet theyMust yeild their tribute there. My precious Maide,Those best affections, that the heavens infuseIn their best temperd peices, keepe enthroandIn your deare heart.
EMILIA.Thanckes, Sir. Remember meTo our all royall Brother, for whose speedeThe great Bellona ile sollicite; andSince in our terrene State petitions are notWithout giftes understood, Ile offer to herWhat I shall be advised she likes: our heartsAre in his Army, in his Tent.
HIPPOLITA.In’s bosome:We have bin Soldiers, and wee cannot weepeWhen our Friends don their helmes, or put to sea,Or tell of Babes broachd on the Launce, or womenThat have sod their Infants in (and after eate them)The brine, they wept at killing ’em; Then ifYou stay to see of us such Spincsters, weShould hold you here for ever.
PERITHOUS.Peace be to you,As I pursue this war, which shall be thenBeyond further requiring. [Exit Pir.]
EMILIA.How his longingFollowes his Friend! since his depart, his sportesThough craving seriousnes, and skill, past slightlyHis careles execution, where nor gaineMade him regard, or losse consider; butPlaying one busines in his hand, anotherDirecting in his head, his minde, nurse equallTo these so diffring Twyns—have you observ’d him,Since our great Lord departed?
HIPPOLITA.With much labour,And I did love him fort: they two have CabindIn many as dangerous, as poore a Corner,Perill and want contending; they have skiftTorrents whose roring tyranny and powerI’th least of these was dreadfull, and they haveFought out together, where Deaths-selfe was lodgd,Yet fate hath brought them off: Their knot of love,Tide, weau’d, intangled, with so true, so long,And with a finger of so deepe a cunning,May be outworne, never undone. I thinkeTheseus cannot be umpire to himselfe,Cleaving his conscience into twaine and doingEach side like Iustice, which he loves best.
EMILIA.DoubtlesseThere is a best, and reason has no mannersTo say it is not you: I was acquaintedOnce with a time, when I enjoyd a Play-fellow;You were at wars, when she the grave enrichd,Who made too proud the Bed, tooke leave o th Moone(Which then lookt pale at parting) when our countWas each eleven.
HIPPOLITA.Twas Flaui(n)a.
EMILIA.Yes.You talke of Pirithous and Theseus love;Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasond,More buckled with strong Iudgement and their needesThe one of th’other may be said to water [2. Hearses ready with Palamon: and Arcite: the 3. Queenes. Theseus: and his Lordes ready.]Their intertangled rootes of love; but IAnd shee I sigh and spoke of were things innocent,Lou’d for we did, and like the ElementsThat know not what, nor why, yet doe effectRare issues by their operance, our soulesDid so to one another; what she lik’d,Was then of me approov’d, what not, condemd,No more arraignment; the flowre that I would pluckeAnd put betweene my breasts (then but beginningTo swell about the blossome) oh, she would longTill shee had such another, and commit itTo the like innocent Cradle, where Phenix likeThey dide in perfume: on my head no toyBut was her patterne; her affections (pretty,Though, happely, her careles were) I followedFor my most serious decking; had mine eareStolne some new aire, or at adventure humd onFrom musicall Coynadge, why it was a noteWhereon her spirits would sojourne (rather dwell on)And sing it in her slumbers. This rehearsall(Which ev’ry innocent wots well comes inLike old importments bastard) has this end,That the true love tweene Mayde, and mayde, may beMore then in sex idividuall.
HIPPOLITA.Y’are out of breathAnd this high speeded pace, is but to sayThat you shall never like the Maide FlavinaLove any that’s calld Man.
EMILIA.I am sure I shall not.
HIPPOLITA.Now, alacke, weake Sister,I must no more beleeve thee in this point(Though in’t I know thou dost beleeve thy selfe,)Then I will trust a sickely appetite,That loathes even as it longs; but, sure, my Sister,If I were ripe for your perswasion, youHave saide enough to shake me from the ArmeOf the all noble Theseus, for whose fortunesI will now in, and kneele with great assurance,That we, more then his Pirothous, possesseThe high throne in his heart.
EMILIA.I am notAgainst your faith; yet I continew mine. [Exeunt. Cornets.]
[A Battaile strooke within: Then a Retrait: Florish. Then Enter Theseus (victor), (Herald and Attendants:) the three Queenes meete him, and fall on their faces before him.]
1. QUEEN.To thee no starre be darke.
2. QUEEN.Both heaven and earthFriend thee for ever.
3. QUEEN.All the good that mayBe wishd upon thy head, I cry Amen too’t.
THESEUS.Th’imparciall Gods, who from the mounted heavensView us their mortall Heard, behold who erre,And in their time chastice: goe and finde outThe bones of your dead Lords, and honour themWith treble Ceremonie; rather then a gapShould be in their deere rights, we would supply’t.But those we will depute, which shall investYou in your dignities, and even each thingOur hast does leave imperfect: So, adiew,And heavens good eyes looke on you. What are those? [ExeuntQueenes.]
HERALD.Men of great quality, as may be judgdBy their appointment; Sone of Thebs have told’sThey are Sisters children, Nephewes to the King.
THESEUS.By’th Helme of Mars, I saw them in the war,Like to a paire of Lions, smeard with prey,Make lanes in troopes agast. I fixt my noteConstantly on them; for they were a markeWorth a god’s view: what prisoner was’t that told meWhen I enquired their names?
HERALD.Wi’leave, they’r called Arcite and Palamon.
THESEUS.Tis right: those, those. They are not dead?
HERALD.Nor in a state of life: had they bin taken,When their last hurts were given, twas possible [3. Hearsesready.]They might have bin recovered; Yet they breatheAnd haue the name of men.
THESEUS.Then like men use ’em.The very lees of such (millions of rates)Exceede the wine of others: all our SurgionsConvent in their behoofe; our richest balmesRather then niggard, waft: their lives concerne usMuch more then Thebs is worth: rather then have ’emFreed of this plight, and in their morning state(Sound and at liberty) I would ’em dead;But forty thousand fold we had rather have ’emPrisoners to us then death. Beare ’em speedilyFrom our kinde aire, to them unkinde, and ministerWhat man to man may doe—for our sake more,Since I have knowne frights, fury, friends beheastes,Loves provocations, zeale, a mistris Taske,Desire of liberty, a feavour, madnes,Hath set a marke which nature could not reach tooWithout some imposition: sicknes in willOr wrastling strength in reason. For our LoveAnd great Appollos mercy, all our bestTheir best skill tender. Leade into the Citty,Where having bound things scatterd, we will post [Florish.]To Athens for(e) our Army [Exeunt. Musicke.]
[Enter the Queenes with the Hearses of their Knightes, in a Funerall Solempnity, &c.]
Vrnes and odours bring away,Vapours, sighes, darken the day;Our dole more deadly lookes than dying;Balmes, and Gummes, and heavy cheeres,Sacred vials fill’d with teares,And clamors through the wild ayre flying.
Come all sad and solempne Showes,That are quick-eyd pleasures foes;We convent nought else but woes.We convent, &c.
3. QUEEN.This funeral path brings to your housholds grave:Ioy ceaze on you againe: peace sleepe with him.
2. QUEEN.And this to yours.
1. QUEEN.Yours this way: Heavens lendA thousand differing waies to one sure end.
3. QUEEN.This world’s a Citty full of straying Streetes, And Death’s the market place, where each one meetes. [Exeunt severally.]