tion from another: Thou art baser in it then a Cutpurse; Put but thy head out of this window more, And as I have a soule, Ile naile thy life too't. ARCITE. Thou dar'st not, foole, thou canst not, thou art feeble. Put my head out? Ile throw my Body out, And leape the garden, when I see her next [Enter Keeper.] And pitch between her armes to anger thee. PALAMON. No more; the keeper's comming; I shall live To knocke thy braines out with my Shackles. ARCITE. Doe. KEEPER. By your leave, Gentlemen-- PALAMON. Now, honest keeper? KEEPER. Lord Arcite, you must presently to'th Duke; The cause I know not yet. ARCITE. I am ready, keeper. KEEPER. Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave you Of your faire Cosens Company. [Exeunt Arcite, and Keeper.] 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 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 faire, Let honest men ne're love againe. Once more I would but see this faire One. Blessed Garden, And fruite, and flowers more blessed, that still blossom As her bright eies shine on ye! would I were, For all the fortune of my life hereafter, Yon little Tree, yon blooming Apricocke; How I would spread, and fling my wanton armes In at her window; I would bring her fruite Fit for the Gods to feed on: youth and pleasure Still as she tasted should be doubled on her, And if she be not heavenly, I would make her So neere the Gods in nature, they should feare her, [Enter Keeper.] And then I am sure she would love me. How now, keeper. Wher's Arcite? KEEPER. Banishd: Prince Pirithous Obtained his liberty; but never more Vpon his oth and life must he set foote Vpon this Kingdome. PALAMON. Hees a blessed man! He shall see Thebs againe, and call to Armes The bold yong men, that, when he bids 'em charge, Fall on like fire: Arcite shall have a Fortune, If he dare make himselfe a worthy Lover, Yet in the Feild to strike a battle for her; And if he lose her then, he's a cold Coward; How bravely may he beare himselfe to win her If he be noble Arcite--thousand waies. Were I at liberty, I would doe things Of such a vertuous greatnes, that this Lady, This blushing virgine, should take manhood to her And seeke to ravish me. KEEPER. My Lord for you I have this charge too-- PALAMON. To discharge my life? KEEPER. No, but from this place to remoove your Lordship: The windowes are too open. PALAMON. Devils take 'em, That are so envious to me! pre'thee kill me. KEEPER. And hang for't afterward. PALAMON. By this good light, Had I a sword I would kill thee. KEEPER. Why, my Lord? PALAMON. Thou bringst such pelting scuruy news continually Thou art not worthy life. I will not goe. KEEPER. Indeede, you must, my Lord. PALAMON. May I see the garden? KEEPER. Noe. PALAMON. Then I am resolud, I will not goe. KEEPER. I must constraine you then: and for you are dangerous, Ile clap more yrons on you. PALAMON. Doe, good keeper. Ile shake 'em so, ye shall not sleepe; Ile make ye a new Morrisse: must I goe? KEEPER. There is no remedy. PALAMON. Farewell, kinde window. May rude winde never hurt thee. O, my Lady, If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was, Dreame how I suffer. Come; now bury me. [Exeunt Palamon, and Keeper.] Scaena 3. (The country near Athens.) [Enter Arcite.] ARCITE. Banishd the kingdome? tis a benefit, A mercy I must thanke 'em for, but banishd The free enjoying of that face I die for, Oh twas a studdied punishment, a death Beyond Imagination: Such a vengeance That, were I old and wicked, all my sins Could never plucke upon me. Palamon, Thou ha'st the Start now, thou shalt stay and see Her bright eyes breake each morning gainst thy window, And let in life into thee; thou shalt feede Vpon the sweetenes of a noble beauty, That nature nev'r exceeded, nor nev'r shall: Good gods! what happines has Palamon! Twenty to one, hee'le come to speake to her, And if she be as gentle as she's faire, I know she's his; he has a Tongue will tame Tempests, and make the wild Rockes wanton. Come what can come, The worst is death; I will not leave the Kingdome. I know mine owne is but a heape of ruins, And no redresse there; if I goe, he has her. I am resolu'd an other shape shall make me, Or end my fortunes. Either way, I am happy: Ile see her, and be neere her, or no more. [Enter 4. Country people, & one with a garlond before them.] 1. COUNTREYMAN My Masters, ile be there, that's certaine 2. COUNTREYMAN And Ile be there. 3. COUNTREYMAN And I. 4. COUNTREYMAN Why, then, have with ye, Boyes; Tis but a chiding. Let the plough play to day, ile tick'lt out Of the Iades tailes to morrow. 1. COUNTREYMAN I am sure To have my wife as jealous as a Turkey: But that's all one; ile goe through, let her mumble. 2. COUNTREYMAN Clap her aboard to morrow night, and stoa her, And all's made up againe. 3. COUNTREYMAN I, doe but put a feskue in her fist, and you shall see her Take a new lesson out, and be a good wench. Doe we all hold against the Maying? 4. COUNTREYMAN Hold? what should aile us? 3. COUNTREYMAN Arcas will be there. 2. COUNTREYMAN And Sennois. And Rycas, and 3. better lads nev'r dancd Under green Tree. And yee know what wenches: ha? But will the dainty Domine, the Schoolemaster, Keep touch, doe you thinke? for he do's all, ye know. 3. COUNTREYMAN Hee'l eate a hornebooke ere he faile: goe too, the matter's too farre driven betweene him and the Tanners daughter, to let slip now, and she must see the Duke, and she must daunce too. 4. COUNTREYMAN Shall we be lusty? 2. COUNTREYMAN All the Boyes in Athens blow wind i'th breech on's, and heere ile be and there ile be, for our Towne, and here againe, and there againe: ha, Boyes, heigh for the weavers. 1. COUNTREYMAN This must be done i'th woods. 4. COUNTREYMAN O, pardon me. 2. COUNTREYMAN By any meanes, our thing of learning saies so: Where he himselfe will edifie the Duke Most parlously in our behalfes: hees excellent i'th woods; Bring him to'th plaines, his learning makes no cry. 3. COUNTREYMAN Weele see the sports, then; every man to's Tackle: And, Sweete Companions, lets rehearse by any meanes, Before the Ladies see us, and doe sweetly, And God knows what May come on't. 4. COUNTREYMAN Content; the sports once ended, wee'l performe. Away, Boyes and hold. ARCITE. By your leaves, honest friends: pray you, whither goe you? 4. COUNTREYMAN Whither? why, what a question's that? ARCITE. Yes, tis a question, to me that know not. 3. COUNTREYMAN To the Games, my Friend. 2. COUNTREYMAN Where were you bred, you know it not? ARCITE. Not farre, Sir, Are there such Games to day? 1. COUNTREYMAN Yes, marry, are there: And such as you neuer saw; The Duke himselfe Will be in person there. ARCITE. What pastimes are they? 2. COUNTREYMAN Wrastling, and Running.--Tis a pretty Fellow. 3. COUNTREYMAN Thou wilt not goe along? ARCITE. Not yet, Sir. 4. COUNTREYMAN Well, Sir, Take your owne time: come, Boyes. 1. COUNTREYMAN My minde misgives me; This fellow has a veng'ance tricke o'th hip: Marke how his Bodi's made for't 2. COUNTREYMAN Ile be hangd, though, If he dare venture; hang him, plumb porredge, He wrastle? he rost eggs! Come, lets be gon, Lads. [Exeunt.] ARCITE. This is an offerd oportunity I durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled, The best men calld it excellent, and run-- Swifter the winde upon a feild of Corne (Curling the wealthy eares) never flew: Ile venture, And in some poore disguize be there; who knowes Whether my browes may not be girt with garlands? And happines preferre me to a place, Where I may ever dwell in sight of her. [Exit Arcite.] Scaena 4. (Athens. A room in the prison.) [Enter Iailors Daughter alone.] DAUGHTER. Why should I love this Gentleman? Tis odds He never will affect me; I am base, My Father the meane Keeper of his Prison, And he a prince: To marry him is hopelesse; To be his whore is witles. Out upon't, What pushes are we wenches driven to, When fifteene 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 ever These eyes yet lookt on. Next, I pittied him, And so would any young wench, o' my Conscience, That ever dream'd, or vow'd her Maydenhead To a yong hansom Man; Then I lov'd him, Extreamely lov'd him, infinitely lov'd him; And yet he had a Cosen, faire as he too. But in my heart was Palamon, and there, Lord, what a coyle he keepes! To heare him Sing in an evening, what a heaven it is! And yet his Songs are sad ones. Fairer spoken Was never Gentleman. When I come in To bring him water in a morning, first He bowes his noble body, then salutes me, thus: 'Faire, gentle Mayde, good morrow; may thy goodnes Get thee a happy husband.' Once he kist me. I lov'd my lips the better ten daies after. Would he would doe so ev'ry day! He greives much, And me as much to see his misery. What should I doe, to make him know I love him? For I would faine enjoy him. Say I ventur'd To set him free? what saies the law then? Thus much For Law, or kindred! I will doe it, And this night, or to morrow, he shall love me. [Exit.] Scaena 5. (An open place in Athens.) [Enter Theseus, Hipolita, Pirithous, Emilia: Arcite with a Garland, &c.] [This short florish of Cornets and Showtes within.] THESEUS. You have done worthily; I have not seene, Since Hercules, a man of tougher synewes; What ere you are, you run the best, and wrastle, That these times can allow. ARCITE. I am proud to please you. THESEUS. What Countrie 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 heire? ARCITE. His yongest, Sir. THESEUS. Your Father Sure is a happy Sire then: what prooves you? ARCITE. A little of all noble Quallities: I could have kept a Hawke, and well have holloa'd To a deepe crie of Dogges; I dare not praise My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me Would say it was my best peece: last, and greatest, I would be thought a Souldier. THESEUS. You are perfect. PERITHOUS. Vpon my soule, a proper man. EMILIA. He is so. PERITHOUS. How doe you like him, Ladie? HIPPOLITA. I admire him; I have not seene so yong a man so noble (If he say true,) of his sort. EMILIA. Beleeve, His mother was a wondrous handsome woman; His face, me thinkes, goes that way. HIPPOLITA. But his Body And firie minde illustrate a brave Father. PERITHOUS. Marke how his vertue, like a hidden Sun, Breakes through his baser garments. HIPPOLITA. Hee's well got, sure. THESEUS. What made you seeke this place, Sir? ARCITE. Noble Theseus, To purchase name, and doe my ablest service To such a well-found wonder as thy worth, For onely in thy Court, of all the world, Dwells faire-eyd honor. PERITHOUS. All his words are worthy. THESEUS. Sir, we are much endebted to your travell, Nor shall you loose your wish: Perithous, Dispose of this faire Gentleman. PERITHOUS. Thankes, Theseus. What ere you are y'ar mine, and I shall give you To a most noble service, to this Lady, This bright yong Virgin; pray, observe her goodnesse; You have honourd hir faire birth-day with your vertues, And as your due y'ar hirs: kisse her faire hand, Sir. ARCITE. Sir, y'ar a noble Giver: dearest Bewtie, Thus let me seale my vowd faith: when your Servant (Your most unworthie Creature) but offends you, Command him die, he shall. EMILIA. That were too cruell. If you deserve well, Sir, I shall soone see't: Y'ar mine, and somewhat better than your rancke Ile use you. PERITHOUS. Ile see you furnish'd, and because you say You are a horseman, I must needs intreat you This after noone to ride, but tis a rough one. ARCITE. I like him better, Prince, I shall not then Freeze in my Saddle. THESEUS. Sweet, you must be readie, And you, Emilia, and you, Friend, and all, To morrow by the Sun, to doe observance To flowry May, in Dians wood: waite well, Sir, Vpon your Mistris. Emely, I hope He shall not goe a foote. EMILIA. That were a shame, Sir, While I have horses: take your choice, and what You want at any time, let me but know it; If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you You'l finde a loving Mistris. ARCITE. If I doe not, Let me finde that my Father ever hated, Disgrace and blowes. THESEUS. Go, leade the way; you have won it: It shall be so; you shall receave all dues Fit for the honour you have won; Twer wrong else. Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a Servant, That, if I were a woman, would be Master, But you are wise. [Florish.] EMILIA. I hope too wise for that, Sir. [Exeunt omnes.] Scaena 6. (Before the prison.) [Enter Iaylors Daughter alone.] DAUGHTER. Let all the Dukes, and all the divells rore, He is at liberty: I have venturd for him, And out I have brought him to a little wood A mile hence. I have sent him, where a Cedar, Higher than all the rest, spreads like a plane Fast by a Brooke, and there he shall keepe close, Till I provide him Fyles and foode, for yet His yron bracelets are not off. O Love, What a stout hearted child thou art! My Father Durst better have indur'd cold yron, than done it: I love him beyond love and beyond reason, Or wit, or safetie: I have made him know it. I care not, I am desperate; If the law Finde me, and then condemne me for't, some wenches, Some honest harted Maides, will sing my Dirge, And tell to memory my death was noble, Dying almost a Martyr: That way he takes, I purpose is my way too: Sure he cannot Be so unmanly, as to leave me here; If he doe, Maides will not so easily Trust men againe: And yet he has not thank'd me For what I have done: no not so much as kist me, And that (me thinkes) is not so well; nor scarcely Could I perswade him to become a Freeman, He made such scruples of the wrong he did To me, and to my Father. Yet I hope, When he considers more, this love of mine Will take more root within him: Let him doe What he will with me, so he use me kindly; For use me so he shall, or ile proclaime him, And to his face, no man. Ile presently Provide him necessaries, and packe my cloathes up, And where there is a patch of ground Ile venture, So hee be with me; By him, like a shadow, Ile ever dwell; within this houre the whoobub Will be all ore the prison: I am then Kissing the man they looke for: farewell, Father; Get many more such prisoners and such daughters, And shortly you may keepe your selfe. Now to him! Actus Tertius. Scaena 1. (A forest near Athens.) [Cornets in sundry places. Noise and hallowing as people a Maying.] [Enter Arcite alone.] ARCITE. The Duke has lost Hypolita; each tooke A severall land. This is a solemne Right They owe bloomd May, and the Athenians pay it To'th heart of Ceremony. O Queene Emilia, Fresher then May, sweeter Then hir gold Buttons on the bowes, or all Th'enamelld knackes o'th Meade or garden: yea, We challenge too the bancke of any Nymph That makes the streame seeme flowers; thou, o Iewell O'th wood, o'th world, hast likewise blest a place With thy sole presence: in thy rumination That I, poore man, might eftsoones come betweene And chop on some cold thought! thrice blessed chance, To drop on such a Mistris, expectation Most giltlesse on't! tell me, O Lady Fortune, (Next after Emely my Soveraigne) how far I may be prowd. She takes strong note of me, Hath made me neere her; and this beuteous Morne (The prim'st of all the yeare) presents me with A brace of horses: two such Steeds might well Be by a paire of Kings backt, in a Field That their crownes titles tride. Alas, alas, Poore Cosen Palamon, poore prisoner, thou So little dream'st upon my fortune, that Thou thinkst thy selfe the happier thing, to be So neare Emilia; me thou deem'st at Thebs, And therein wretched, although free. But if Thou knew'st my Mistris breathd on me, and that I ear'd her language, livde in her eye, O Coz, What passion would enclose thee! [Enter Palamon as out of a Bush, with his Shackles: bends his fist at Arcite.] PALAMON. Traytor kinesman, Thou shouldst perceive my passion, if these signes Of prisonment were off me, and this hand But owner of a Sword: By all othes in one, I and the iustice of my love would make thee A confest Traytor. O thou most perfidious That ever gently lookd; the voydest of honour, That eu'r bore gentle Token; falsest Cosen That ever blood made kin, call'st thou hir thine? Ile prove it in my Shackles, with these hands, Void of appointment, that thou ly'st, and art A very theefe in love, a Chaffy Lord, Nor worth the name of villaine: had I a Sword And these house clogges away-- ARCITE. Deere Cosin Palamon-- PALAMON. Cosoner Arcite, give me language such As thou hast shewd me feate. ARCITE. Not finding in The circuit of my breast any grosse stuffe To forme me like your blazon, holds me to This gentlenesse of answer; tis your passion That thus mistakes, the which to you being enemy, Cannot to me be kind: honor, and honestie I cherish, and depend on, how so ev'r You skip them in me, and with them, faire Coz, Ile maintaine my proceedings; pray, be pleas'd To shew in generous termes your griefes, since that Your question's with your equall, who professes To cleare his owne way with the minde and Sword Of a true Gentleman. PALAMON. That thou durst, Arcite! ARCITE. My Coz, my Coz, you have beene well advertis'd How much I dare, y'ave seene me use my Sword Against th'advice of feare: sure, of another You would not heare me doubted, but your silence Should breake out, though i'th Sanctuary. PALAMON. Sir, I have seene you move in such a place, which well Might justifie your manhood; you were calld A good knight and a bold; But the whole weeke's not faire, If any day it rayne: Their valiant temper Men loose when they encline to trecherie, And then they fight like coupelld Beares, would fly Were they not tyde. ARCITE. Kinsman, you might as well Speake this and act it in your Glasse, as to His eare which now disdaines you. PALAMON. Come up to me, Quit me of these cold Gyves, give me a Sword, Though it be rustie, and the charity Of one meale lend me; Come before me then, A good Sword in thy hand, and doe but say That Emily is thine: I will forgive The trespasse thou hast done me, yea, my life, If then thou carry't, and brave soules in shades That have dyde manly, which will seeke of me Some newes from earth, they shall get none but this, That thou art brave and noble. ARCITE. Be content: Againe betake you to your hawthorne house; With counsaile of the night, I will be here With wholesome viands; these impediments Will I file off; you shall have garments and Perfumes to kill the smell o'th prison; after, When you shall stretch your selfe and say but, 'Arcite, I am in plight,' there shall be at your choyce Both Sword and Armour. PALAMON. Oh you heavens, dares any So noble beare a guilty busines! none But onely Arcite, therefore none but Arcite In this kinde is so bold. ARCITE. Sweete Palamon. PALAMON. I doe embrace you and your offer,--for Your offer doo't I onely, Sir; your person, Without hipocrisy I may not wish [Winde hornes of Cornets.] More then my Swords edge ont. ARCITE. You heare the Hornes; Enter your Musite least this match between's Be crost, er met: give me your hand; farewell. Ile bring you every needfull thing: I pray you, Take comfort and be strong. PALAMON. Pray hold your promise; And doe the deede with a bent brow: most certaine You love me not, be rough with me, and powre This oile out of your language; by this ayre, I could for each word give a Cuffe, my stomach Not reconcild by reason. ARCITE. Plainely spoken, Yet pardon me hard language: when I spur [Winde hornes.] My horse, I chide him not; content and anger In me have but one face. Harke, Sir, they call The scatterd to the Banket; you must guesse I have an office there. PALAMON. Sir, your attendance Cannot please heaven, and I know your office Vnjustly is atcheev'd. ARCITE. If a good title, I am perswaded this question sicke between's By bleeding must be cur'd. I am a Suitour, That to your Sword you will bequeath this plea And talke of it no more. PALAMON. But this one word: You are going now to gaze upon my Mistris, For note you, mine she is-- ARCITE. Nay, then. PALAMON. Nay, pray you, You talke of feeding me to breed me strength: You are going now to looke upon a Sun That strengthens what it lookes on; there You have a vantage ore me, but enjoy't till I may enforce my remedy. Farewell. [Exeunt.] Scaena 2. (Another Part of the forest.) [Enter Iaylors daughter alone.] DAUGHTER. He has mistooke the Brake I meant, is gone After his fancy. Tis now welnigh morning; No matter, would it were perpetuall night, And darkenes Lord o'th world. Harke, tis a woolfe: In me hath greife slaine feare, and but for one thing I care for nothing, and that's Palamon. I wreake not if the wolves would jaw me, so He had this File: what if I hallowd for him? I cannot hallow: if I whoop'd, what then? If he not answeard, I should call a wolfe, And doe him but that service. I have heard Strange howles this live-long night, why may't not be They have made prey of him? he has no weapons, He cannot run, the Iengling of his Gives Might call fell things to listen, who have in them A sence to know a man unarmd, and can Smell where resistance is. Ile set it downe He's torne to peeces; they howld many together And then they fed on him: So much for that, Be bold to ring the Bell; how stand I then? All's char'd when he is gone. No, no, I lye, My Father's to be hang'd for his escape; My selfe to beg, if I prizd life so much As to deny my act, but that I would not, Should I try death by dussons.--I am mop't, Food tooke I none these two daies, Sipt some water. I have not closd mine eyes Save when my lids scowrd off their brine; alas, Dissolue my life, Let not my sence unsettle, Least I should drowne, or stab or hang my selfe. O state of Nature, faile together in me, Since thy best props are warpt! So, which way now? The best way is the next way to a grave: Each errant step beside is torment. Loe, The Moone is down, the Cryckets chirpe, the Schreichowle Calls in the dawne; all offices are done Save what I faile in: But the point is this, An end, and that is all. [Exit.] Scaena 3. (Same as Scene I.) [Enter Arcite, with Meate, Wine, and Files.] ARCITE. I should be neere the place: hoa, Cosen Palamon. [Enter Palamon.] PALAMON. Arcite? ARCITE. The same: I have brought you foode and files. Come forth and feare not, here's no Theseus. PALAMON. Nor none so honest, Arcite. ARCITE. That's no matter, Wee'l argue that hereafter: Come, take courage; You shall not dye thus beastly: here, Sir, drinke; I know you are faint: then ile talke further with you. PALAMON. Arcite, thou mightst now poyson me. ARCITE. I might, But I must feare you first: Sit downe, and, good, now No more of these vaine parlies; let us not, Having our ancient reputation with us, Make talke for Fooles and Cowards. To your health, &c. PALAMON. Doe. ARCITE. Pray, sit downe then; and let me entreate you, By all the honesty and honour in you, No mention of this woman: t'will disturbe us; We shall have time enough. PALAMON. Well, Sir, Ile pledge you. ARCITE. Drinke a good hearty draught; it breeds good blood, man. Doe not you feele it thaw you? PALAMON. Stay, Ile tell you after a draught or two more. ARCITE. Spare it not, the Duke has more, Cuz: Eate now. PALAMON. Yes. ARCITE. I am glad you have so good a stomach. PALAMON. I am gladder I have so good meate too't. ARCITE. Is't not mad lodging here in the wild woods, Cosen? PALAMON. Yes, for them that have wilde Consciences. ARCITE. How tasts your vittails? your hunger needs no sawce, I see. PALAMON. Not much; But if it did, yours is too tart, sweete Cosen: what is this? ARCITE. Venison. PALAMON. Tis a lusty meate: Giue me more wine; here, Arcite, to the wenches We have known in our daies. The Lord Stewards daughter, Doe you remember her? ARCITE. After you, Cuz. PALAMON. She lov'd a black-haird man. ARCITE. She did so; well, Sir. PALAMON. And I have heard some call him Arcite, and-- ARCITE. Out with't, faith. PALAMON. She met him in an Arbour: What did she there, Cuz? play o'th virginals? ARCITE. Something she did, Sir. PALAMON. Made her groane a moneth for't, or 2. or 3. or 10. ARCITE. The Marshals Sister Had her share too, as I remember, Cosen, Else there be tales abroade; you'l pledge her? PALAMON. Yes. ARCITE. A pretty broune wench t'is. There was a time When yong men went a hunting, and a wood, And a broade Beech: and thereby hangs a tale:--heigh ho! PALAMON. For Emily, upon my life! Foole, Away with this straind mirth; I say againe, That sigh was breathd for Emily; base Cosen, Dar'st thou breake first? ARCITE. You are wide. PALAMON. By heaven and earth, ther's nothing in thee honest. ARCITE. Then Ile leave you: you are a Beast now. PALAMON. As thou makst me, Traytour. ARCITE. Ther's all things needfull, files and shirts, and perfumes: Ile come againe some two howres hence, and bring That that shall quiet all, PALAMON. A Sword and Armour? ARCITE. Feare me not; you are now too fowle; farewell. Get off your Trinkets; you shall want nought. PALAMON. Sir, ha-- ARCITE. Ile heare no more. [Exit.] PALAMON. If he keepe touch, he dies for't. [Exit.] Scaena 4. (Another part of the forest.) [Enter Iaylors daughter.] DAUGHTER. I am very cold, and all the Stars are out too, The little Stars, and all, that looke like aglets: The Sun has seene my Folly. Palamon! Alas no; hees in heaven. Where am I now? Yonder's the sea, and ther's a Ship; how't tumbles! And ther's a Rocke lies watching under water; Now, now, it beates upon it; now, now, now, Ther's a leak sprung, a sound one, how they cry! Spoon her before the winde, you'l loose all els: Vp with a course or two, and take about, Boyes. Good night, good night, y'ar gone.--I am very hungry. Would I could finde a fine Frog; he would tell me Newes from all parts o'th world, then would I make A Carecke of a Cockle shell, and sayle By east and North East to the King of Pigmes, For he tels fortunes rarely. Now my Father, Twenty to one, is trust up in a trice To morrow morning; Ile say never a word. [Sing.] For ile cut my greene coat a foote above my knee, And ile clip my yellow lockes an inch below mine eie. hey, nonny, nonny, nonny, He's buy me a white Cut, forth for to ride And ile goe seeke him, throw the world that is so wide hey nonny, nonny, nonny. O for a pricke now like a Nightingale, To put my breast against. I shall sleepe like a Top else. [Exit.] Scaena 5. (Another part of the forest.) [Enter a Schoole master, 4. Countrymen, and Bavian. 2. or 3. wenches, with a Taborer.] SCHOOLMASTER. Fy, fy, what tediosity, & disensanity is here among ye? have my Rudiments bin labourd so long with ye? milkd unto ye, and by a figure even the very plumbroth & marrow of my understanding laid upon ye? and do you still cry: where, and how, & wherfore? you most course freeze capacities, ye jane Iudgements, have I saide: thus let be, and there let be, and then let be, and no man understand mee? Proh deum, medius fidius, ye are all dunces! For why, here stand I, Here the Duke comes, there are you close in the Thicket; the Duke appeares, I meete him and unto him I utter learned things and many figures; he heares, and nods, and hums, and then cries: rare, and I goe forward; at length I fling my Cap up; marke there; then do you, as once did Meleager and the Bore, break comly out before him: like true lovers, cast your selves in a Body decently, and sweetly, by a figure trace and turne, Boyes. 1. COUNTREYMAN. And sweetly we will doe it Master Gerrold. 2. COUNTREYMAN. Draw up the Company. Where's the Taborour? 3. COUNTREYMAN. Why, Timothy! TABORER. Here, my mad boyes, have at ye. SCHOOLMASTER. But I say, where's their women? 4. COUNTREYMAN. Here's Friz and Maudline. 2. COUNTREYMAN. And little Luce with the white legs, and bouncing Barbery. 1. COUNTREYMAN. And freckeled Nel, that never faild her Master. SCHOOLMASTER. Wher be your Ribands, maids? swym with your Bodies And carry it sweetly, and deliverly And now and then a fauour, and a friske. NEL. Let us alone, Sir. SCHOOLMASTER. Wher's the rest o'th Musicke? 3. COUNTREYMAN. Dispersd as you commanded. SCHOOLMASTER. Couple, then, And see what's wanting; wher's the Bavian? My friend, carry your taile without offence Or scandall to the Ladies; and be sure You tumble with audacity and manhood; And when you barke, doe it with judgement. BAVIAN. Yes, Sir. SCHOOLMASTER. Quo usque tandem? Here is a woman wanting. 4. COUNTREYMAN. We may goe whistle: all the fat's i'th fire. SCHOOLMASTER. We have, As learned Authours utter, washd a Tile, We have beene FATUUS, and laboured vainely. 2. COUNTREYMAN. This is that scornefull peece, that scurvy hilding, That gave her promise faithfully, she would be here, Cicely the Sempsters daughter: The next gloves that I give her shall be dog skin; Nay and she faile me once--you can tell, Arcas, She swore by wine and bread, she would not breake. SCHOOLMASTER. An Eele and woman, A learned Poet sayes, unles by'th taile And with thy teeth thou hold, will either faile. In manners this was false position 1. COUNTREYMAN. A fire ill take her; do's she flinch now? 3. COUNTREYMAN. What Shall we determine, Sir? SCHOOLMASTER. Nothing. Our busines is become a nullity; Yea, and a woefull, and a pittious nullity. 4. COUNTREYMAN. Now when the credite of our Towne lay on it, Now to be frampall, now to pisse o'th nettle! Goe thy waies; ile remember thee, ile fit thee. [Enter Iaylors daughter.] DAUGHTER. [Sings.] The George alow came from the South, From the coast of Barbary a. And there he met with brave gallants of war By one, by two, by three, a. Well haild, well haild, you jolly gallants, And whither now are you bound a? O let me have your company [Chaire and stooles out.] Till (I) come to the sound a. There was three fooles, fell out about an howlet: The one sed it was an owle, The other he sed nay, The third he sed it was a hawke, And her bels wer cut away. 3. COUNTREYMAN. Ther's a dainty mad woman M(aiste)r Comes i'th Nick, as mad as a march hare: If wee can get her daunce, wee are made againe: I warrant her, shee'l doe the rarest gambols. 1. COUNTREYMAN. A mad woman? we are made, Boyes. SCHOOLMASTER. And are you mad, good woman? DAUGHTER. I would be sorry else; Give me your hand. SCHOOLMASTER. Why? DAUGHTER. I can tell your fortune. You are a foole: tell ten. I have pozd him: Buz! Friend you must eate no whitebread; if you doe, Your teeth will bleede extreamely. Shall we dance, ho? I know you, y'ar a Tinker: Sirha Tinker, Stop no more holes, but what you should. SCHOOLMASTER. Dij boni. A Tinker, Damzell? DAUGHTER. Or a Conjurer: Raise me a devill now, and let him play Quipassa o'th bels and bones. SCHOOLMASTER. Goe, take her, And fluently perswade her to a peace: Et opus exegi, quod nec Iouis ira, nec ignis. Strike up, and leade her in. 2. COUNTREYMAN. Come, Lasse, lets trip it. DAUGHTER. Ile leade. [Winde Hornes.] 3. COUNTREYMAN. Doe, doe. SCHOOLMASTER. Perswasively, and cunningly: away, boyes, [Ex. all but Schoolemaster.] I heare the hornes: give me some meditation, And marke your Cue.--Pallas inspire me. [Enter Thes. Pir. Hip. Emil. Arcite, and traine.] THESEUS. This way the Stag tooke. SCHOOLMASTER. Stay, and edifie. THESEUS. What have we here? PERITHOUS. Some Countrey sport, upon my life, Sir. THESEUS. Well, Sir, goe forward, we will edifie. Ladies, sit downe, wee'l stay it. SCHOOLMASTER. Thou, doughtie Duke, all haile: all haile, sweet Ladies. THESEUS. This is a cold beginning. SCHOOLMASTER. If you but favour, our Country pastime made is. We are a few of those collected here, That ruder Tongues distinguish villager; And to say veritie, and not to fable, We are a merry rout, or else a rable, Or company, or, by a figure, Choris, That fore thy dignitie will dance a Morris. And I, that am the rectifier of all, By title Pedagogus, that let fall The Birch upon the breeches of the small ones, And humble with a Ferula the tall ones, Doe here present this Machine, or this frame: And daintie Duke, whose doughtie dismall fame From Dis to Dedalus, from post to pillar, Is blowne abroad, helpe me thy poore well willer, And with thy twinckling eyes looke right and straight Vpon this mighty MORR--of mickle waight; IS now comes in, which being glewd together, Makes MORRIS, and the cause that we came hether. The body of our sport, of no small study, I first appeare, though rude, and raw, and muddy, To speake before thy noble grace this tenner: At whose great feete I offer up my penner. The next the Lord of May and Lady bright, The Chambermaid and Servingman by night That seeke out silent hanging: Then mine Host And his fat Spowse, that welcomes to their cost The gauled Traveller, and with a beckning Informes the Tapster to inflame the reckning: Then the beast eating Clowne, and next the foole, The Bavian, with long tayle and eke long toole, Cum multis alijs that make a dance: Say 'I,' and all shall presently advance. THESEUS. I, I, by any meanes, deere Domine. PERITHOUS. Produce. (SCHOOLMASTER.) Intrate, filij; Come forth, and foot it.-- [Musicke, Dance. Knocke for Schoole.] [Enter the Dance.] Ladies, if we have beene merry, And have pleasd yee with a derry, And a derry, and a downe, Say the Schoolemaster's no Clowne: Duke, if we have pleasd thee too, And have done as good Boyes should doe, Give us but a tree or twaine For a Maypole, and againe, Ere another yeare run out, Wee'l make thee laugh and all this rout. THESEUS. Take 20., Domine; how does my sweet heart? HIPPOLITA. Never so pleasd, Sir. EMILIA. Twas an excellent dance, and for a preface I never heard a better. THESEUS. Schoolemaster, I thanke you.--One see'em all rewarded. PERITHOUS. And heer's something to paint your Pole withall. THESEUS. Now to our sports againe. SCHOOLMASTER. May the Stag thou huntst stand long, And thy dogs be swift and strong: May they kill him without lets, And the Ladies eate his dowsets! Come, we are all made. [Winde Hornes.] Dij Deoeq(ue) omnes, ye have danc'd rarely, wenches. [Exeunt.] Scaena 6. (Same as Scene III.) [Enter Palamon from the Bush.] PALAMON. About this houre my Cosen gave his faith To visit me againe, and with him bring Two Swords, and two good Armors; if he faile, He's neither man nor Souldier. When he left me, I did not thinke a weeke could have restord My lost strength to me, I was growne so low, And Crest-falne with my wants: I thanke thee, Arcite, Thou art yet a faire Foe; and I feele my selfe With this refreshing, able once againe To out dure danger: To delay it longer Would make the world think, when it comes to hearing, That I lay fatting like a Swine to fight, And not a Souldier: Therefore, this blest morning Shall be the last; and that Sword he refuses, If it but hold, I kill him with; tis Iustice: So love, and Fortune for me!--O, good morrow. [Enter Arcite with Armors and Swords.] ARCITE. Good morrow, noble kinesman. PALAMON. I have put you to too much paines, Sir. ARCITE. That too much, faire Cosen, Is but a debt to honour, and my duty. PALAMON. Would you were so in all, Sir; I could wish ye As kinde a kinsman, as you force me finde A beneficiall foe, that my embraces Might thanke ye, not my blowes. ARCITE. I shall thinke either, well done, A noble recompence. PALAMON. Then I shall quit you. ARCITE. Defy me in these faire termes, and you show More then a Mistris to me, no more anger As you love any thing that's honourable: We were not bred to talke, man; when we are arm'd And both upon our guards, then let our fury, Like meeting of two tides, fly strongly from us, And then to whom the birthright of this Beauty Truely pertaines (without obbraidings, scornes, Dispisings of our persons, and such powtings, Fitter for Girles and Schooleboyes) will be seene And quickly, yours, or mine: wilt please you arme, Sir, Or if you feele your selfe not fitting yet And furnishd with your old strength, ile stay, Cosen, And ev'ry day discourse you into health, As I am spard: your person I am friends with, And I could wish I had not saide I lov'd her, Though I had dide; But loving such a Lady And justifying my Love, I must not fly from't. PALAMON. Arcite, thou art so brave an enemy, That no man but thy Cosen's fit to kill thee: I am well and lusty, choose your Armes. ARCITE. Choose you, Sir. PALAMON. Wilt thou exceede in all, or do'st thou doe it To make me spare thee? ARCITE. If you thinke so, Cosen, You are deceived, for as I am a Soldier, I will not spare you. PALAMON. That's well said. ARCITE. You'l finde it. PALAMON. Then, as I am an honest man and love With all the justice of affection, Ile pay thee soundly. This ile take. ARCITE. That's mine, then; Ile arme you first. PALAMON. Do: pray thee, tell me, Cosen, Where gotst thou this good Armour? ARCITE. Tis the Dukes, And to say true, I stole it; doe I pinch you? PALAMON. Noe. ARCITE. Is't not too heavie? PALAMON. I have worne a lighter, But I shall make it serve. ARCITE. Ile buckl't close. PALAMON. By any meanes. ARCITE. You care not for a Grand guard? PALAMON. No, no; wee'l use no horses: I perceave You would faine be at that Fight. ARCITE. I am indifferent. PALAMON. Faith, so am I: good Cosen, thrust the buckle Through far enough. ARCITE. I warrant you. PALAMON. My Caske now. ARCITE. Will you fight bare-armd? PALAMON. We shall be the nimbler. ARCITE. But use your Gauntlets though; those are o'th least, Prethee take mine, good Cosen. PALAMON. Thanke you, Arcite. How doe I looke? am I falne much away? ARCITE. Faith, very little; love has usd you kindly. PALAMON. Ile warrant thee, Ile strike home. ARCITE. Doe, and spare not; Ile give you cause, sweet Cosen. PALAMON. Now to you, Sir: Me thinkes this Armor's very like that, Arcite, Thou wor'st the day the 3. Kings fell, but lighter. ARCITE. That was a very good one; and that day, I well remember, you outdid me, Cosen. I never saw such valour: when you chargd Vpon the left wing of the Enemie, I spurd hard to come up, and under me I had a right good horse. PALAMON. You had indeede; a bright Bay, I remember. ARCITE. Yes, but all Was vainely labour'd in me; you outwent me, Nor could my wishes reach you; yet a little I did by imitation. PALAMON. More by vertue; You are modest, Cosen. ARCITE. When I saw you charge first, Me thought I heard a dreadfull clap of Thunder Breake from the Troope. PALAMON. But still before that flew The lightning of your valour. Stay a little, Is not this peece too streight? ARCITE. No, no, tis well. PALAMON. I would have nothing hurt thee but my Sword, A bruise would be dishonour. ARCITE. Now I am perfect. PALAMON. Stand off, then. ARCITE. Take my Sword, I hold it better. PALAMON. I thanke ye: No, keepe it; your life lyes on it. Here's one; if it but hold, I aske no more For all my hopes: My Cause and honour guard me! [They bow severall wayes: then advance and stand.] ARCITE. And me my love! Is there ought else to say? PALAMON. This onely, and no more: Thou art mine Aunts Son, And that blood we desire to shed is mutuall; In me, thine, and in thee, mine. My Sword Is in my hand, and if thou killst me, The gods and I forgive thee; If there be A place prepar'd for those that sleepe in honour, I wish his wearie soule that falls may win it: Fight bravely, Cosen; give me thy noble hand. ARCITE. Here, Palamon: This hand shall never more Come neare thee with such friendship. PALAMON. I commend thee. ARCITE. If I fall, curse me, and say I was a coward, For none but such dare die in these just Tryalls. Once more farewell, my Cosen. PALAMON. Farewell, Arcite. [Fight.] [Hornes within: they stand.] ARCITE. Loe, Cosen, loe, our Folly has undon us. PALAMON. Why? ARCITE. This is the Duke, a hunting as I told you. If we be found, we are wretched. O retire For honours sake, and safety presently Into your Bush agen; Sir, we shall finde Too many howres to dye in: gentle Cosen, If you be seene you perish instantly For breaking prison, and I, if you reveale me, For my contempt. Then all the world will scorne us, And say we had a noble difference, But base disposers of it. PALAMON. No, no, Cosen, I will no more be hidden, nor put off This great adventure to a second Tryall: I know your cunning,