Thes. Pray you kneel not.
I was transported with your speech, and suffer'd
Your knees to wrong themselves. I've heard the
fortunes

Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting
As wakes my vengeance and revenge for them.
King Capaneus was your lord: the day
That he should marry you, at such a season
As now it is with me, I met your groom
By Mars's altar; you were that time fair,
Not Juno's mantle fairer than your tresses,
Nor in more bounty spread her; your wheaten
wreath

Was then nor thresh'd, nor blasted; Fortune at

you

Dimpled her cheek with smiles; Hercules our kinsman

(Then weaker than your eyes) laid by his club, He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide, And swore his sinews thaw'd: Oh, grief and time,

Fearful consumers, you will all devour!

1 Queen. Oh, I hope some god,

Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood, Whereto he'll infuse power, and press you forth Our undertaker!

3 Queen. Oh, my petition was

[Kneels to EMILIA. Set down in ice, which, by hot grief uncandied, Melts into drops; so sorrow, wanting form, Is press'd with deeper matter, Emi. Pray stand up;

Your grief is written in your cheek,
3 Queen. Oh, woe!

You cannot read it there; here through my tears,
Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream,
You may behold them! Lady, lady, alack,
He that will all the treasure know o' the earth
Must know the centre too; he that will fish
For my least minnow, let him lead his line
To catch one at my heart. Oh, pardon me!
Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,
Makes me a fool.

Emi. Pray you, say nothing; pray you!
Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in't,
Knows neither wet nor dry. If that you were
The ground-piece of some painter, I would buy

you,

To instruct me 'gainst a capital grief indeed;
(Such heart-pierced demonstration!) but, alas,
Being a natural sister of our sex,

Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me,
That it shall make a counter-reflect 'gainst
My brother's heart, and warm it to some pity,
Though it were made of stone: pray have good
comfort!

strong

As it is white, wast near to make the male To thy sex captive; but that this thy lard (Born to uphold creation in that honour First Nature styled it in) shrunk thee into

Thes. Forward to the temple: leave not out a jot

1 Queen. Oh, this celebration

Will longer last, and be more costly, than
Your suppliants' war! Remember that your fame
Knolls in the ear o' the world: What you do
quickly

duing

Thy force, and thy affection; soldieress,
That equally canst poise sternness with pity,
Who now, I know, hast much more power on him
Than e'er he had on thee; who owest his strength,
And his love too, who is a servant to
The tenor of thy speech; dear glass of ladies,
Bid him that we whom flaming war doth scorch,
Under the shadow of his sword may cool us!
Require him he advance it o'er our heads;
Speak't in a woman's key, like such a woman
As any of us three; weep ere you fail ;
Lend us a knee;

But touch the ground for us no longer time
Than a dove's motion, when the head's pluck'd
off!

Tell him, if he i'the blood-sized field lay swoln, Showing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon, What you would do!

Hip. Poor lady, say no more!

I had as lief trace this good action with you
As that whereto I'm going, and never yet
Went I so willing way. My lord is taken
Heart-deep with your distress: let him consider;
I'll speak anon.

tating

More than their actions; but, (oh, Jove!) your

actions,

Soon as they move, as osprays do the fish, Subdue before they touch: think, dear duke, think

What beds our slain kings have!

2 Queen. What griefs our beds, That our dear lords have none !

3 Queen. None fit for the dead
Those that with cords, knives, drams, precipitance,
Weary of this world's light, have to themselves
Been death's most horrid agents, human grace
Affords them dust and shadow,

1 Queen. But our lords
Lie blistering 'fore the visitating sun,
And were good kings when living.
Thes. It is true;

And I will give you comfort,
To give your dead lords graves :

The which to do must make some work with

Creon.

1 Queen. And that work now presents itself to

the doing :

12

Thes. Why, good ladies,

This is a service, whereto I am going,
Greater than any war; it more imports me
Than all the actions that I have foregone,
Or futurely can cope.

1 Queen. The more proclaiming
Our suit shall be neglected: When her arms,
Able to lock Jove from a synod, shall
By warranting moon-light corslet thee, oh, when
Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall
Upon thy tasteful lips, what wilt thou think
Of rotten kings, or blubber'd queens? what care
For what thou feel'st not, what thou feel'st being
able

To make Mars spurn his drum? Oh, if thou couch
But one night with her, every hour in't will
Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and
Thou shalt remember nothing more than what
That banquet bids thee to.

Hip. Though much unlike

You should be so transported, as much sorry
I should be such a suitor; yet I think
Did I not, by th' abstaining of my joy,
Which breeds a deeper longing, cure their surfeit,
That craves a present med cine, I should pluck
All ladies' scandal on me: Therefore, Sir,
As I shall here make trial of my prayers,
Either presuming them to have some force,
Or sentencing for ay their vigour dumb,
Prorogue this business we are going about, and
hang

Your shield afore your heart, about that neck
Which is my fee, and which I freely lend
To do these poor queens service.

All Queens. Oh, help now!

Our cause cries for your knee.

Emi. If you grant not

My sister her petition, in that force,
With that celerity and nature, which

To ask you any thing, nor be so hardy
Ever to take a husband.

Thes. Pray stand up;

I am entreating of myself to do

That which you kneel to have me. Perithous,
Lead on the bride! Get you, and pray the gods
For success and return; omit not any thing
In the pretended celebration. Queens,
Follow your soldier (as before); hence you,
And at the banks of Aulis meet us with
The forces you can raise, where we shall find
The moiety of a number, for a business
More bigger look'd.-Since that our theme is
haste,

I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip;
Sweet, keep it as my token. Set you forward;
For I will see you gone.

[Exeunt towards the Temple.
Farewell, my beauteous sister! Perithous,
Keep the feast full; bate not an hour on't!
Per. Sir,

I'll follow you at heels: the feast's solemnity
Shall want till your return.

Thes. Cousin, I charge you

Budge not from Athens; we shall be returning Ere you can end this feast, of which I pray you Make no abatement. Once more, farewell all! 1 Queen. Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o' the world.

2 Queen. And earn'st a deity equal with Mars. 3 Queen. If not above him; for, Thou being but mortal, mak'st affections bend To godlike honours; they themselves, some say, Groan under such a mastery.

Thes. As we are men,

Thus should we do; being sensually subdued, We lose our humane title. Good cheer, ladies!

Now turn we tow'rds your comforts.

SCENE II.

Enter PALAMON and ARCITE.

[Flourish. [Exeunt.

Arc. Dear Palamon, dearer in love than blood,
And our prime cousin, yet unharden'd in
The crimes of nature; let us leave the city
Thebes, and the temptings in't, before we further
Sully our gloss of youth.

And here to keep in abstinence we shame
As in incontinence: for not to swim

I' the head o' the current, were almost to sink,
At least to frustrate striving; and to follow
The common stream, 'twould bring us to an eddy
Where we should turn or drown; if labour
through,

Our gain but life, and weakness.

Pal. Your advice

Is cried up with example: what strange ruins, Since first we went to school, may we perceive Walking in Thebes! Scars, and bare weeds, The gain o' the martialist, who did propound To his bold ends, honour, and golden ingots,

flurted

By peace, for whom he fought! Who then shall

offer

To Mars's so-scorned altar? I do bleed
When such I' meet, and wish great Juno would
Resume her ancient fit of jealousy,

To get the soldier work, that peace might purge
For her repletion, and retain anew

Her charitable heart, now hard, and harsher
Than strife or war could be.

Arc. Are you not out?

Meet you no ruin, but the soldier, in

The cranks and turns of Thebes? You did begin
As if you met decays of many kinds :
Perceive you none that do arouse your pity,
But th' unconsider❜d soldier ?

I did begin to speak of; this is virtue
Of no respect in Thebes: I spake of Thebes,
How dangerous, if we will keep our honours,
It is for our residing; where every evil
Hath a good colour; where every seeming good's
A certain evil; where not to be even jump
As they are, here were to be strangers, and
Such things to be mere monsters.

Pal. It is in our power
(Unless we fear that apes can tutor's) to
Be masters of our manners. What need I
Affect another's gait, which is not catching
Where there is faith? or to be fond upon
Another's way of speech, when by mine own
I may be reasonably conceived: saved too,
Speaking it truly? Why am I bound
By any generous bond to follow him
Follows his tailor, haply so long, until
The follow'd make pursuit? Or let me know,
Why mine own barber is unbless'd, with him
My poor chin too, for 'tis not scissar'd just
To such a favourite's glass? What canon is there
That does command my rapier from my hip,
To dangle't in my hand, or to go tip-toe
Before the street be foul? Either I am
The fore-horse in the team, or I am none
That draw i'the sequent trace. These poor slight

Val. The king calls for you; yet be leadenfooted,

Till his great rage be off him! Phœbus, when
He broke his whipstock, and exclaim'd against
The horses of the sun, but whisper'd, to
The loudness of his fury.

Pal. Small winds shake him;

But what's the matter?

Val. Theseus (who where he threats appals) hath sent

Deadly defiance to him, and pronounces
Ruin to Thebes; who is at hand to seal
The promise of his wrath.

Arc. Let him approach!

But that we fear the gods in him, he brings not A jot of terror to us: yet what man

Thirds his own worth (the case is each of ours) When that his action's dregg'd with mind assured 'Tis bad he goes about?

Pal. Leave that unreason'd

Our services stand now for Thebes, not Creon. Yet, to be neutral to him, were dishonour, Rebellious to oppose; therefore we must With him stand to the mercy of our fate, Who hath bounded our last minute.