And in their time chastise. Go, and find out
The bones of your dead lords, and honour them
With treble ceremony; rather than a gap
Should be in their dear rites, we would supply't.
But those we will depute which shall invest
You in your dignities, and ev'n each thing
Our haste does leave imperfect: So adieu,
And heaven's good eyes look on you!-What are
those?
[Exeunt Queens.
Herald. Men of great quality, as may be judged
By their appointment; some of Thebes have told's
They're sister's children, nephews to the king.
Thes. By th' helm of Mars, I saw them in the

war,

Like to a pair of lions, succour'd with prey, Make lanes in troops aghast: I fix'd my note Constantly on them; for they were a mark

Prisoners to us than death. Bear 'em speedily
From our kind air (to them unkind,) and minister
What man to man may do; for our sake, more.
Since I have known frights, fury, friends' behests,
Loves' provocations, zeal, a mistress' task,
Desire of liberty, a fever, madness,
Sickness in will, or wrestling strength in reason;
'T hath set a mark which nature could not
reach to

Without some imposition. For our love,
And great Apollo's mercy, all our best
Their best skill tender!-Lead into the city:
Where having bound things scatter'd, we will
post
To Athens 'fore our army.

SCENE V.

[Exeunt.

told me,

When I enquired their names?

Herald. With leave, they're called

Arcite and Palamon.

Thes. 'Tis right; those, those.

They are not dead?

Herald. Nor in a state of life: Had they been taken

When their last hurts were given, 'twas possible They might have been recover'd; yet they breathe, And have the name of men:

Thes. Then like men use 'em! The very lees of such, millions of rates, Exceed the wine of others. All our surgeons Convent in their behoof; our richest balms, Rather than niggard, waste! their lives con

cern us

Much more than Thebes is worth. Rather than have 'em

Freed of this plight, and in their morning state,
Sound and at liberty, I would 'em dead;
But, forty thousand fold, we'd rather have 'em

in a funeral solemnity, &c.

Urns and odours bring away,
Vapours, sighs, darken the day!
Our dole more deadly looks than dying!
Balms, and gums, and heavy cheers,
Sacred vials fill'd with tears,

And clamours, through the wild air flying:
Come, all sad and solemn shows,
That are quick-eyed pleasure's foes!
We convent nought else but woes.

SCENE I.

Enter Jailor and Wooer.

Jailor. 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 o' 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 deliver'd to be! Marry, what
I have (be't what it will) I will assure
Upon my daughter at the day o' my death.
Wooer. Sir, I demand no more than your own
offer;

And I'll estate your daughter, in what I
Have promised.

Jailor. Well, we'll talk more of this,

When the solemnity is past. But have you
A full promise of her? When that shall be seen,
Enter Daughter.

I tender my consent.

Wooer. I have, sir. Here she comes.

Jailor. Your friend and I have chanced to name

you here,

On the old business: But no more o' that now.
So soon as the court-hurry is o'er, we'll have
An end of't: I' the mean time, look tenderly
To the two prisoners: I can tell you they're
princes.

Daugh. These strewings are for their chamber. It is 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 them; and they have all the world in their
chamber.

Pal. How, gentle cousin?

Arc. Let's think this prison a holy sanctuary, To keep us from corruption of worse men. We're young, and yet desire the ways of honour; That, liberty and common conversation, The poison of pure spirits, might, like women, Wooe us to wander from. What worthy blessing

Can be, but our imaginations

Emi. Or were they all hard-hearted?
Serv. They could not be to one so fair.
Emi. Thou wouldst not?

Serv. I think I should not, madam.
Emi. That's a good wench!

ther,

We are an endless mine to one another;
We're one another's wife, ever begetting

New births of love; we're father, friends, ac

quaintance;

We are, in one another, families;

I am your heir, and you are mine; this place
Is our inheritance; no hard oppressor

Dare take this from us: Here, with a little patience,

We shall live long, and loving; no surfeits seek

us;

The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seas
Swallow their youth; were we at liberty,
A wife might part us lawfully, or business;
Quarrels consume us; envy of ill men
Crave our acquaintance; I might sicken, cousin,
Where you should never know it, and so perish
Without your noble hand to close mine eyes,
Or prayers to the gods: A thousand chances,
Were we from hence, would sever us.

Pal. You have made me

(I thank you, cousin Arcite,) almost wanton
With my captivity: What a misery
It is to live abroad, and every where !

Tis like a beast, methinks. I find the court here,
I'm sure a more content; and all those pleasures
That wooe the wills of men to vanity,
I see through now; and am sufficient
To tell the world, 'tis but a gaudy shadow,
That 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 ignorance

The 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 peoples' curses!
Shall I say more?

Arc. I would here you still.

Pal. You shall.

Is there record of any two that loved

Better than we do, Arcite?

Arc. Sure there cannot.

Pal. I do not think it possible our friendship

Should ever leave us.

Arc. 'Till our deaths it cannot;

Enter EMILIA and her Servant.

And after death our spirits shall be led

To those that love eternally. Speak on, sir!

Emi. This garden has a world of pleasures in't.

What flower is this?

Serv. 'Tis call'd Narcissus, madam.

Serv. Why, madam ?

Emi. Men are mad things.

Arc. Will you go forward, cousin?

Emi. Canst not thou work such flowers in silk, wench?

Serv. Yes.

Emi. I'll have a gown full of 'em; and of these;

This is a pretty colour: Will't not do
Rarely upon a skirt, wench?

Serv. Dainty, madam.

Arc. Cousin! Cousin! How do you, sir? Why Palamon!

Pal. Never 'till now I was in prison, Arcite. Arc. Why, what's the matter, man? Pal. Behold, and wonder! By heav'n, she is a goddess! Arc. Ha!

Pal. Do reverence! She is a goddess, Arcite! Emi. Of all flowers, Methinks a rose is best.

Serv. Why, gentle madam?

Emi. It is the very emblem of a maid:
For when the west wind courts her gently,
How modestly she blows, and paints the sun
With 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.

Serv. Yet, good madam,
Sometimes her modesty will blow so far
She falls for it: A maid,

If she have any honour, would be loath
To take example by her.

Emi. Thou art wanton.

Arc. She's wondrous fair!

Pal. She's all the beauty extant!

Emi. The sun grows high; let's walk in! Keep

these flowers;

Pal. You love her then?
Arc. Who would not?
Pal. And desire her?
Arc. Before my liberty.
Pal. I saw her first.
Arc. That's nothing.
Pal. But it shall be.
Arc. I saw her too.

Pal. Yes; but you must not love her.
Arc. I will not, as you do; to worship her,
As she is heav'nly, and a blessed goddess:
I love her as a woman, to enjoy her;
So both may love.

Pal. You shall not love at all.

Arc. Not love at all? who shall deny me? Pal. I, that first saw her; I, that took posses

sion

First with mine eye of all those beauties in her
Reveal'd to mankind! If thou lovest her,
Or entertain'st a hope to blast my wishes,
Thou art a traitor, Arcite, and a fellow
False as thy title to her: Friendship, blood,
And all the ties between us, I disclaim,
If thou once think upon her!

Arc. 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 you, farewell, Palamon!

I say again, I love; and, in loving her, maintain

I am as worthy and as free a lover,

And have as just a title to her beauty,
As any Palamon, or any living,

That is a man's son.

Pal. Have I call'd thee friend?

you

you moved thus?

Let me deal coldly with you! am not I
Part of your blood, part of your soul? you've
told me

That I was Palamon, and you were Arcite.
Pal. Yes.

Arc. Am not I liable to those affections, Those joys, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer?

Pal. You may be.

Arc. Why then would you deal so cunningly, So strangely, so unlike a Noble Kinsman, To love alone? Speak truly; do you think me Unworthy of her sight?

Pal. No; but unjust
thou pursue that sight.
Arc. Because another

First sees the enemy, shall I stand still,

And let mine honour down, and never charge? .. Pal. Yes, if he be but one.

Arc. But say that one

Had rather combat me?

Pal. 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!

Arc. You are mad..

Pal. And me too,

[Exit with ARCITE

Ev'n 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 notice
Both of his blood and body. But his falsehood!
Why should a friend be treacherous? If that
Get him a wife so noble, and so fair,

Let honest men ne'er love again. Once more
I would but see this fair one. Blessed garden,
And fruit, and flowers more blessed, that still

blossom

As her bright eyes shine on ye! 'Would I were,
For all the fortune of my life hereafter,
Yon little tree, yon blooming apricot !
How I would spread, and fling my wanton arms
In at her window! I would bring her fruit
Fit for the gods to feed on; youth and pleasure,
Still as she tasted, should be doubled on her;
And, if she be not heav'nly, I would make her
So near the gods in nature, they should fear her;
Enter Jailor.

And then I'm sure she'd love me. How now,
keeper!
Where's Arcite?

Jailor. Banished. Prince Perithous Obtain'd his liberty; but never more, Upon his oath and life, must he set foot Upon this kingdom.

Pal. He's a blessed man!

He shall see Thebes again, and call to arms
The 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 her,
If he be noble Arcite, thousand ways!
Were I at liberty, I would do things

Of such a virtuous greatness, that this lady,
This blushing virgin, should take manhood to
her,

And let in life into thee; thou shalt feed
Upon the sweetness of a noble beauty,
That 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 tame Tempests, and make the wild rocks wanton. Come what can come,

The worst is death; I will not leave the kingdom:

I know my own is but a heap of ruins,
And no redress there; if I go, he has her.
I am resolved: Another shape shall make me,
Or end my fortunes; either way, I'm happy:
I'll see her, and be near her, or no more.
Enter four Country People; one with a garland
before them.

1 Coun. My masters, I'll be there, that's cer-
tain.

2 Coun. And I'll be there.

3 Coun. And I.