The Two Noble Kinsmen.

New Plays and Maiden-heads are near a-kin, Much follow'd both; for both much money gi'n, If they stand sound, and well: And a good Play (Whose modest Scenes blush on his marriage day, And shake to loose his honour) is like hir That after holy Tie, and first nights stir Yet still is Modesty, and still retains More of the Maid to sight, than Husbands pains; We pray our Play may be so; for I'm sure It has a noble breeder, and a pure, A Learned, and a Poet never went More famous yet 'twixt Po, and silver Trent. Chaucer (of all admir'd) the Story gives, There constant to eternity it lives: If we let fall the Nobleness of this, And the first sound this Child hear, be a hiss, How will it shake the bones of that good man And make him cry from under-ground. Oh fan From me the witless chaff of such a writer That blasts my Bayes, and my fam'd Works makes lighter Than Robin Hood, this is the fear we bring For to say Truth, it were an endless thing: And too ambitious to aspire to him; Weak as we are, and almost breathless swim In this deep water. Do but you hold out Your helping hands, and we shall tack about, And something do to save us: You shall hear Scænes, though below his Art, may yet appear Worth two hours travel. To his bones sweet sleep: Content to you. If this Play do not keep, A little dull time from us, we perceive Our losses fall so thick, we must needs leave. Florish.

Roses their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hew, Maiden-Pinks, of odour faint, Daizies smell-less, yet most quaint And sweet Time true. Primrose first born, child of Ver, Merry Spring time's Harbinger, With her bels dimm. Oxlips in their Cradles growing, Marigolds on death-beds blowing, Larks-heels trim. All dear natures children sweet, Lie fore Bride and Bridegrooms feet, [Strew Flowers. Blessing their sence. Not an Angel of the Air, Bird melodious, or Bird fair, Is absent hence. The Crow, the slanderous Cuckooe, nor The boading Raven, nor Clough h[ee] Nor chatt'ring Pie, May on our Bridehouse pearch or sing, Or with them any discord bring But from it fly.

1 Qu. For pities sake, and true gentilities, Hear and respect me. 2 Qu. For your Mothers sake. And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair ones, Hear and respect me. 3 Qu. Now for the love of him whom Jove hath mark'd The honor of your Bed, and for the sake Of clear Virginity, be Advocate For us, and our distresses: This good deed Shall raze you out o'th' Book of Trespasses All you are set down there. Thes. Sad Lady rise. Hip. Stand up. Emil. No knees to me. What Woman I may steed that is distrest, Does bind me to her. Thes. What's your request? Deliver you for all? 1 Qu. We are three Queens, whose Sovereigns fell before The wrath of cruel Creon; who endur'd The Beaks of Ravens, Tallents of the Kites, And pecks of Crows in the foul field[s] of Thebs. He will not suffer us to burn their bones, To urne their ashes, nor to take th' offence Of mortal loathsomness from the blest eye Of holy Phœbus, but infects the winds With stench of our slain Lords. Oh pity Duke, Thou purger of the earth, draw thy fear'd Sword That does good turns to th' world; give us the Bones Of our dead Kings, that we may Chappel them; And of thy boundless goodness take some note That for our crowned heads we have no roof; Save this which is the Lions and the Bears, And vault to every thing. Thes. Pray you kneel not, I was transported with your Speech, and suffer'd Your knees to wrong themselves; I have heard the fortunes Of your dead Lords, which gives me such lamenting As wakes my vengeance, and revenge for 'em: 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 not thrash'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 Nenuan hide And swore his sinews thaw'd: Oh grief, and time, Fearful consumers, you will all devour. 1 Qu. 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. Thes. Oh no knees, none Widow, Unto the Helmeted-Belona use them, And pray for me your Soldier. Troubl'd I am. [Turns away. 2 Qu. Honoured Hippolita Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slain The Sith-tusk'd-Bore; that with thy Arm as strong As it is white, was't near to make the male To thy Sex captive; but that this thy Lord Born to uphold Creation, in that honor First nature stil'd it in, shrunk thee into The bound thou wast o'er-flowing; at once subduing Thy force, and thy affection: Soldieress That equally canst poize sternness with pity, Whom now I know hast [much] more power on him Than ever he had on thee, who ow'st his strength, And his Love too: who is a Servant for The Tenor of the 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 womans key: like such a woman As any of us three; weep e'r you fail; lend us a knee; But touch the ground for us no longer time Than a Doves motion, when the head's pluckt off: Tell him if he i'th' blood-ciz'd field, lay swoln Shewing the Sun his Teeth, grinning at the Moon What you would do. Hip. Poor Lady say no more: I had as leif 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. 3 Qu. Oh my petition was, [Kneel to Emilia. Set down in Ice, which by hot grief uncandied Melts into drops, so sorrow wanting form Is prest with deeper matter. Emil. Pray stand up, Your grief is written in your cheek. 3 Qu. Oh woe, You cannot read it there; there through my tears, Like wrinkl'd pebbles in a Glass stream You may behold 'em (Lady, Lady, alack) He that will all the treasure know o'th' earth Must know the Center 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. Emil. 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 T'instruct me 'gainst a capital grief indeed Such heart-pierc'd 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 Brothers heart, and warm it to some pity Though it were made of stone: pray have good comfort: Thes. Forward to th' Temple, leave not out a jot O' th' sacred ceremony. 1 Qu. Oh this celebration Will long last, and be more costly than Your Suppliants war: Remember that your Fame Knowls in the ear o'th' world: what you do quickly, Is not done rashly; your first thought is more, Than others laboured meditance: your premeditating More than their actions: But oh Jove, your actions, Soon as they move, as Asprays do the fish, Subdue before they touch: think, dear Duke think What beds our slain Kings have. 2 Qu. What griefs our beds That our dear Lords have none. 3 Qu. None fit for th' dead: Those that with Cords, Knives, Drams precipitance, Weary of this worlds light, have to themselves Been deaths most horrid Agents, humane grace Affords them dust and shadow. 1 Qu. But our Lords Lie blist'ring '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 Qu. And that work presents it self to th' doing: Now 'twill take form, the heats are gone to morrow, Then bootless toil must recompence it self, With its own sweat; Now he's secure, Not dre[a]ms, we stand before your puissance Wrinching our holy begging in our eyes To make petition clear. 2 Qu. Now you may take him, Drunk with his victory. 3 Qu. And his Army full Of Bread, and sloth. Thes. Artesis that best knowest How to draw out, fit to this enterprize, The prim'st for this proceeding, and the number To carry such a business, forth and levy Our worthiest Instruments, whilst we dispatch This grand act of our life, this daring deed Of Fate in wedlock. 1 Qu. Dowagers, take hands Let us be Widows to our woes, delay Commends us to a famishing hope. All. Farewell. 2 Qu. We come unseasonably: But when could grief Cull forth as unpanged judgement can, fit'st time For best solicitation. Thes. Why good Ladies, This is a service, whereto I am going, Greater than any was; it more imports me Than all the actions that I have foregone, Or futurely can cope. 1 Qu. 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 twining Cherries shall their sweetness fall Upon thy tastful 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 Drom. 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 too. 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 vigor 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. Emil. If you grant not My Sister her petition in that force, With that Celerity, and nature which She makes it in: from henceforth I'll not dare To ask you any thing, nor be so hardy Ever to take a Husband. Thes. Pray stand up. I am intreating of my self to do That which you kneel to have me; Pyrithous 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 Anly meet us with The forces you can raise, where we shall find The moiety of a number, for a business, More bigger look't; since that our Theme is haste I stamp this kiss uppon thy currant Lip, Sweet keep it as my token; set you forward For I will see you gone. [Exeunt towards the Temple. Farewel my beauteous Sister; Pyrithous Keep the Feast full, bate not an hour on't. Pyri. Sir, I'll follow you at heels; The Feasts solemnity Shall want till your return. Thes. Cosin I charge you Budge not from Athens; we shall be returning E'r you can end this Feast; of which I pray you Make no abatement; once more farewel all. 1 Qu. Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o'th' world. [2] Qu. And earnst a Deity equal with Mars. 3 Qu. If not above him, for Thou being but mortal, makest affections bend To godlike honors; they themselves some say Groan under such a Mast'ry. Thes. As we are men Thus should we doe, being sensually subdu'd We loose our humane Title; good cheer Ladies. Florish. Now turn we towards our Comforts. [Exeunt.

Arcite. Dear Palamon, dearer in Love than Blood And our prime Cosin, yet unhard'ned in The Crimes of nature; Let us leave the City Thebs, 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' th' aid o'th' current, were almost to sink, At least to frustrate striving, and to follow The common stream, 't would bring us to an Eddy Where we should turn or drown; if labour through, Our gain but life, and weakness. Pal. Your advice Is cry'd up with example; what strange ruins Since first we went to School, may we perceive Walking in Thebs! Skars, and bare weeds The gain o'th' Martialist, who did propound To his bold ends, honor, and golden Ingots, Which though he won, he had not, and now flurted By peace, for whom he fought, who then shall offer To Mars's so scorn'd Altar? I doe bleed When such I meet, and wish great Juno would Resume her antient fit of jealousie 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. Arcite. Are you not out? Meet you no ruin, but the Soldier in The crancks and turns of Thebs? you did begin As if you met decaies of many kinds: Perceive you none, that do arouse your pity But th' unconsider'd Soldier? Pal. Yes, I pity Decaies where-e'er I find them, but such most That sweating in an honourable toil Are paid with Ice to cool 'em. Arcite. 'Tis not this I did begin to speak of, this is virtue Of no respect in Thebs, I spake of Thebs How dangerous if we will keep our honors, It is for our residing, where every evil Hath a good colour; where ev'ry seeming good's A certain evil, where not to be ev'n jump As they are, here were to be strangers, and Such things to be meer Monsters. Pal. 'Tis in our power, (Unless we fear that Apes can Tutor's) to Be Masters of our manners: what need I Affect anothers gate, which is not catching Where there is faith, or to be fond upon Anothers way of speech, when by mine own I may be reasonably conceiv'd; sav'd too, Speaking it truly; why am I bound By any generous bond to follow him Follows his Taylor, haply so long, until The follow'd, make pursuit? or let me know, Why mine own Barber is unblest, with him My poor Chinn too, for 'tis not Cizard just To such a Favorites glass: What Cannon is there That does command my Rapier from my hip To dangle't in my hand, or to goe tip toe Before the street be foul? either I am The fore-horse in the Team, or I am none That draw i' th' sequent trace: these poor slight sores, Need not a Plantain; That which [r]ips my bosome Almost to th' heart's. Arcite. Our Uncle Creon. Pal. He, A most unbounded Tyrant, whose successes Makes Heaven unfear'd, and villany assured Beyond its power: there's nothing, almost puts Faith in a Feavor, and deifies alone Voluble chance, who only attributes The faculties of other Instruments To his own Nerves and act; Commands men service, And what they win in't, boot and glory on; That fears not to [do] harm; good, dares not; Let The bloud of mine that's sibbe to him, be suckt From me with Leeches, let them break and fall Off me with that corruption. Arc. Clear spirited Cosin Let's leave his Court, that we may nothing share, Of his loud infamy: for our milk, Will relish of the pasture, and we must Be vile, or disobedient, not his kinsmen In blood, unless in quality. Pal. Nothing truer: I think the ecchoes of his shames have deaf't The ears of heav'nly Justice: widdows cries Descend again into their throats, and have not Due audience of the gods: Valerius.

Val. The King calls for you; yet be leaden-footed Till his great rage be off him. Phebus 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 Thebs, 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 actions dregg'd, with mind assur'd 'Tis bad he goes about. Pal. Leave that unreason'd. Our services stand now for Thebs, not Creon, Yet to be neutral to him, were dishonor; Rebellious to oppose: therefore we must With him stand to the mercy of our Fate, Who hath bounded our last minute. Arc. So we must; Ist sed this wars afoot? or it shall be On fail of some condition. Val. 'Tis in motion The intelligence of state came in the instant With the defier. P[a]l. Let's to the King, who, were he A quarter carrier of that honor, which His enemy came in, the bloud we venture Should be as for our health, which were not spent, Rather laid out for purchase: but alas Our hands advanc'd before our hearts, what will The fall o' th' stroke do damage? Arci. Let th' event, That never-erring Arbitrator, tell us When we know all our selves, and let us follow The becking of our chance. [Exeunt.

Pir. No further. Hip. Sir farewel; repeat my wishes To our great Lord, of whose success I dare not Make any timerous question; yet I wish him Excess, and overflow of power, and't might be To dure ill-dealing fortune; speed to him, Store never hurts good Governors. Pir. Though I know His Ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they Must yield their tribute there: My precious Maid, Those best affections that the heavens infuse In their best temper'd pieces, keep enthron'd In your dear heart. Emil. Thanks Sir; remember me To our all-Royal Brother, for whose speed The great Bellona I'll solicite; and Since in our terrene State, petitions are not Without gifts understood: I'll offer to her What I shall be advis'd she likes; our hearts Are in his Army, in his Tent. Hip. In's bosom: We have been Soldiers, and we cannot weep When our Friends do'n their helms, or put to Sea, Or tell of Babes broach'd on the Launce, or Women That have sod their Infants in (and after eat them) The brine, they wept at killing 'em; Then if You stay to see of us such Spinsters, we Should hold you here for ever. Pir. Peace be to you As I pursue this war, which shall be then Beyond further requiring. [Exit Pir. Emil. How his longing Follows his friend; since his depart, his sports Though craving seriousness, and skill, past slightly His careless execution, where nor gain Made him regard, or loss consider, but Playing o'er business in his hand, another Directing in his head, his mind, nurse equal To these so diff'ring Twins; have you observ'd him, Since our great Lord departed? Hip. With much labour: And I did love him for't, they two have Cabin'd In many as dangerous, as poor a corner, Peril and want contending, they have skift Torrents, whose roaring tyranny and power I'th' least of these was dreadful, and they have Fought out together, where Death's-self was lodg'd, Yet Fate hath brought them off: their knot of love Ti'd, weav'd, intangl'd, with so true, so long, And with a finger of so deep a cunning May be out-worn, never undone. I think Theseus cannot be umpire to himself Cleaving his conscience into twain, and doing Each side like Justice, which he loves best. Emil. Doubtless There is a best, and reason has no manners To say it is not you: I was acquainted Once with a time, when I enjoy'd a Play-fellow; You were at wars, when she the grave enrich'd, Who made too proud the Bed, took leave o' th' Moon (Which then lookt pale at parting) when our count Was each eleven. Hip. 'Twas Flavia.

Emil. Yes, You talk of Pirithous and Theseus love; Theirs has more ground, is more maturely season'd, More buckled with strong judgement, and their needs The one of th' other may be said to water Their intertangled roots of love, but I And she (I sigh and spoke of) were things innocent, Lov'd for we did, and like the Elements That know not what, nor why, yet do effect Rare issues by their operance; our souls Did so to one another; what she lik'd, Was then of me approv'd, what not condemn'd No more arraignment, the flower that I would pluck And put between my breasts, oh (then but beginning To swell about the blossom) she would long Till she had such another, and commit it To the like innocent Cradle, where Phenix-like They di'd in perfume: on my head no toy But was her pattern, her affections pretty Though happily, her careless, were, I followed For my most serious decking, had mine ear Stol'n some new air, or at adventure humm'd on From musical Coynage, why, it was a Note Whereon her spirits would sojourn (rather dwell on) And sing it in her slumbers; This rehearsal (Which fury innocent wots well) comes in Like old importments-bastard, has this end; That the true love 'tween Maid, and Maid, may be More than in sex individual. Hip. Y'are out of breath And this high speeded-pace, is but to say That you shall never (like the Maid Flavina) Love any that's call'd Man. Emil. I'm sure I shall not. Hip. Now alack weak Sister, I must no more believe thee in this point (Though in't I know thou dost believe thy self) Then I will trust a sickly appetite, That loaths even as it longs, but sure my Sister If I were ripe for your perswasion, you Have said enough to shake me from the Arm Of the all noble Theseus, for whose fortunes, I will now in, and kneel with great assurance, That we, more than his Pirathous, possess The high Throne in his heart. E[m]il. I am not against your faith, Yet I continue mine. [Exeunt Cornets.

1 Qu. To thee no Star be dark. 2 Qu. Both Heaven and Earth Friend thee for ever. 3 Qu. All the good that may Be wish'd upon thy head, I cry Amen to't. Thes. Th'impartial gods, who from the mounted heavens View us their mortal Herd, behold who erre, And in their time chastise: goe and find out The bones of your dead Lords, and honor them With treble ceremony, rather than a gap Should be in their dear rights, we would supply't. But those we will depute, which shall invest You in your dignities, and even each thing Our haste does leave imperfect; So adieu And heavens good eyes look on you, what are those? [Exeunt Queens. Herald. Men of great quality, as may be judg'd By their appointment; some of Thebs have told's They are Sisters children, Nephews to the King. Thes. By th' Helme of Mars, I saw them in the War, Like to a pair of Lions, smear'd with prey, Make lanes in troops agast. I fixt my note Constantly on them; for they were a mark Worth a god's view: what prisoner was't that told me When I enquir'd their names? Herald. We leave, they'r called Arcite and Palamon. Thes. 'Tis right, those, those They are not dead? [Three Hearses ready. Her. 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 balmes Rather than niggard waste, their lives concern us, Much more than Thebs 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 had rather have 'em 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, beheasts, Loves, provocations, zeal, a Mistriss taske, Desire of liberty, a feavor, madness, Hath set a mark which nature could not reach too Without some imposition, sickness in Will Or wrestling strength in reason, for our Love And great Apollos mercy, all our best, Their best [skill] tender. Lead into the City, Where having bound things scatter'd, we will post. [Florish. To Athens for o[u]r Army. [Exeunt. Musick.

Urns and Odours, bring away, Vapors, sighs, darken the day; Our dole more deadly looks, than dying Balmes, and Gumms, and heavy cheers, Sacred vi[a]ls fill'd with tears, And clamors, through the wild air flying: Come all sad and solemn Shows, That are quick-ey'd pleasures foes; We convent nought else but woes. We convent, &c. 3 Qu. This funeral path, brings to your houshold[s] grave[:] Joy seize on you again: peace, sleep with him. 2 Qu. And this to yours. 1 Qu. Yours this way: Heavens lend A thousand differing ways to one sure end. 3 Qu. This world's a City full of straying streets, And Death's the Market-place, where each one meets. [Exeunt severally.

Jail. I may depart with little, while I live, something I May cast to you, not much: Alas the Prison I Keep, though it be for great ones, yet they seldom Come; before one Salmon, you shall take a number Of Minnows: I am given out to be better lin'd 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 it what It will) I will assure upon my daughter at The day of my death. Wooer. Sir, I demand no more than your own offer, And I will estate your Daughter, in what I Have promised. Jail. Well, we will talk more of this, when the solemnity Is past; But have you a full promise of her?

When that shall be seen, I tender my consent. Wooer. I have Sir; here she comes. Jail. Your friend and I have chanced to name You here, upon the old business: but no more of that. Now, so soon as the Court-hurry is over, we will Have an end of it: I' th' mean time look tenderly To the two prisoners. I can tell you they are Princes. Daugh. These strewings are for their Chamber; 'tis pity they Are in prison, and 'twere pity they should be out: I Do think they have patience to make any adversity Asham'd; the prison it self is proud of 'em; and They have all the world in their Chamber. Jail. They are fam'd to be a pair of absolute men. Daugh. By my troth, I think Fame but stammers 'em, they Stand a grief above the reach of report. Jail. I heard them reported in the battel, to be the only doers. Daugh. Nay, most likely, for they are noble sufferers; I Marvel how they would have look'd, had they been Victors, that with such a constant Nobility, enforce A freedom out of bondage, making misery their Mirth, and affliction a toy to jest at. Jail. Doe they so? Daugh. It seems to me, they have no more sence of their Captivity, than I of ruling Athens: they eat Well, look merrily, discourse of many things, But nothing of their own restraint, and disasters: Yet sometime a divided sigh, martyr'd as 'twere I' th' deliverance, will break from one of them, When the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke, That I could wish my self a sigh to be so chid, Or at least a sigher to be comforted. Wooer. I never saw 'em. Jail. The Duke himself came privately in the night.

And so did they, what the reason of it is, I Know not: Look, yonder they are; that's Arcite looks out. Daugh. No Sir, no, that's Palamon: Arcite is the Lower of the twain; you may perceive a part Of him. Jail. Go to, leave your pointing; they would not Make us their object; out of their sight. Daugh. It is a holliday to look on them: Lord, the Difference of men. [Exeunt.

Pal. How do you, Noble Cosin? Arcite. How do you, Sir? Pal. Why, strong enough to laugh at misery, And bear the chance of war yet, we are prisoners I fear for ever Cosin. Arcite. I believe it, And to that destiny have patiently Laid up my hour to come. Pal. Oh Cosin Arcite, Where is Thebs now? where is our noble Countrey? Where are our friends, and kindreds? never more Must we behold those comforts, never see The hardy youths strive for the Games of honor (Hung with the painted favours of their Ladies) Like tall Ships under Sail: then start amongst 'em And as an Eastwind leave 'em all behind us, Like lazy Clouds, whilst Palamon and Arcite, Even in the wagging of a wanton leg Out-stript the peoples praises, won the Garlands, E'r they have time to wish 'em ours. Oh never Shall we two exercise, like twins of honor, Our Arms again, and feel our fiery horses, Like proud Seas under us, our good Swords, now (Better the red-ey'd god of War nev'r were) Bravish'd our sides, like age, must run to rust, And deck the Temples of those gods that hate us, These hands shall never draw 'em out like light'ning To blast whole Armies more. Arcite. No Palamon, Those hopes are prisoners with us, here we are And here the graces of our youths must wither Like a too-timely Spring; here age must find us, And which is heaviest (Palamon) unmarried, The sweet embraces of a loving wife Loaden with kisses, arm'd with thousand Cupids Shall never claspe our necks, no issue know us, No figures of our selves shall we ev'r see, To glad our age, and like young Eagles teach 'em Boldly to gaze against bright arms, and say Remember what your Fathers were, and conquer. The fair-ey'd Maids, shall weep our banishments, And in their Songs, curse ever-blinded fortune Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done To youth and nature; This is all our world; We shall know nothing here, but one another, Hear nothing, but the clock that tels our woes. The Vine shall grow, but we shall never see it: Summer shall come, and with her all delights; But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still. Pal. 'Tis too true Arcite. To our Theban hounds, That shook the aged Forrest with their ecchoes, No more now must we hollo, no more shake Our pointed Javelins, whilst the angry Swine Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages, Struck with our well-steel'd Darts: All valiant uses, (The food and nourishment of noble minds,) In us two here shall perish; we shall die (Which is the curse of honor) lastly, Children of grief, and Ignorance. Arc. Yet Cosin, Even from the bottom of these miseries From all that fortune can inflict upon us, I see two comforts rising, two meer blessings, If the gods please, to hold here a brave patience, And the enjoying of our griefs together. Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish If I think this our prison. Pala. Certainly, 'Tis a main goodness, Cosin, that our fortunes Were twin'd together; 'tis most true, two souls Put in two noble bodies, let 'em suffer The gaul of hazard, so they grow together, Will never sink, they must not, say they could, A willing man dies sleeping, and all's done. Arc. Shall we make worthy uses of this place That all men hate so much? Pal. How gentle Cosin? Arc. Let's think this prison, Holy Sanctuary, To keep us from corruption of worse men, We are young, and yet desire the wayes 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 May make it ours? And here being thus together, We are an endless mine to one another; We are one anothers Wife, ever begetting New births of love; we are Father, Friends, Acquaintance, 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 Cosin, 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 Cosin Arcite) almost wanton With my Captivity: what a misery It is to live abroad! and every where: 'Tis like a Beast me thinks: 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: Cosin Arcite Had not the loving gods found this place for us We had di'd as they doe, ill old men unwept, And had their Epitaphs, the peoples Curses, Shall I say more? Arc. I would hear you still. Pal. Ye shall. Is there record of any two that lov'd Better than we two Arcite? Arc. Sure there cannot. Pal. I doe not think it possible our friendship Should ever leave us. Arc. Till our deaths it cannot.

And after death our spirits shall be led To those that love eternally. Speak on Sir. This Garden has a world of pleasures in't. Emil. What Flower is this? Wom. 'Tis call'd Narcissus, Madam. Emil. That was a fair Boy certain, but a fool, To love himself, were there not Maids enough? Arc. Pray forward. Pal. Yes. Emil. Or were they all hard-hearted? Wom. They could not be to one so fair. Emil. Thou wouldst not. Wom. I think I should not, Madam. Emil. That's a good wench: But take heed to your kindness though. Wom. Why Madam? Emil. Men are mad things. Arcite. Will ye go forward, Cosin? Emil. Canst not thou work such Flowers in Silk wench? Wom. Yes. Emil. I'll have a Gown full of 'em, and of these, This is a pretty colour, wil't not do Rarely upon a skirt wench? Wom. Dainty Madam. Arc. Cosin, Cosin, 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 heaven she is a Goddess. Arcite. Ha. Pal. Do reverence. She is a Goddess Arcite. Emil. Of all Flowers, Methinks a Rose is best. Wom. Why gentle Madam? Emil. 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. Wom. Yet good Madam, Sometimes her modesty will blow so far She falls for't: a Maid If she have any honor, would be loth To take example by her. Emil. Thou art wanton. Arc. She is wondrous fair. Pal. She is all the beauty extant. Emil. The Sun grows high, let's walk in, keep these flowers, We'll see how near Art can come near their colours; I'm wondrous merry-hearted, I could laugh now. Wom. I could lie down I am sure. Emil. And take one with you? Wom. That's as we bargain, Madam. Emil. Well, agree then. [Exeunt Emilia and Woman. Pal. What think you of this beauty? Arc. 'Tis a rare one. Pal. Is't but a rare one? Arc. Yes, a matchless beauty. Pal. Might not a man well lose himself, and love her? Arc. I cannot tell what you have done, I have, Beshrew mine eyes for't, now I feel my Shackles. 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 heavenly, 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 denie me? Pal. I that first saw her; I that took possession First with mine eye of all those beauties In her reveal'd to mankind: if thou lov'st 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, bloud And all the ties between us I disclai[m] 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 ye, farewel 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 mans Son. Pal. Have I call'd thee friend? Arc. Yes, and have found me so; why are you mov'd thus? Let me deal coldly with you, am not I Part of your blood, part of your soul? you have told me That I was Palamon, and you were Arcite. Pal. Yes. Arc. Am not I liable to those affections, Those joyes, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer? Pal. Ye 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, If thou pursue that [si]ght. Arc. Because another First sees the Enemy, shall I stand still And let mine honor 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 Countrey, A branded villain. Arc. You are mad. Pal. I must be. Till thou art worthy, Arcite, it concerns me, And in this madness, if I hazard thee And take thy life, I deal but truly. Arc. Fie Sir. You play the child extreamly: I will love her, I must, I ought to do so, and I dare, And all this justly. Pal. Oh that now, that now Thy false-self, and thy friend, had but this fortune To be one hour at liberty, and graspe Our good swords in our hands, I would quickly teach thee What 'twere to filch affection from another: Thou art baser in it than a Cutpurse; Put but thy head out of this window more, And as I have a soul, I'll nail thy life to't. Arc. Thou dar'st not fool, thou canst not, thou art feeble. Put my head out? I'll throw my Body out, And leap the Garden, when I see her next.

And pitch between her Arms to anger thee. Pal. No more; the Keepers coming; I shall live To knock thy brains out with my Shackles. Arc. Doe. Keep. By your leave, Gentlemen. Pala. Now honest Keeper? Keep. Lord Arcite, you must presently to th' Duke; The cause I know not yet. Arc. I am ready Keeper. Keep. Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave you Of your fair Cosins company. [Exeunt Arcite, and Keeper. Pal. 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 Bloud and Body: but his falshood, 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 eies shine on ye. Would I were For all the fortune of my life hereafter Yon little Tree, yon blooming Apricock; How I would spread, and fling my wanton 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 heavenly, I would make her So near the gods in nature, they should fear her.

And then I'm sure she would love me: how now Keeper, Where's Arcite? Keep. Banish'd: Prince Pirithous 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 battel 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 seek to ravish me. Keep. My Lord for you I have this charge too. Pal. To discharge my life. Keep. No, but from this place to remove your Lordship, The windows are too open. Pal. Devils take 'em That are so envious to me; prethee kill me. Keep. And hang for't afterward. Pal. By this good light Had I a sword I would kill thee. Keep. Why my Lord? Pal. Thou bring'st such pelting scurvy news continually Thou art not worthy life; I will not go. Keep. Indeed you must my Lord. Pal. May I see the Garden? Keep. No. Pal. Then I am resolv'd, I will not go. Keep. I must constrain you then: and, for you are dangerous I'll clap more irons on you. Pal. Doe good Keeper. I'll shake 'em so, ye shall not sleep, I'll make ye a new Morri[ss]e, must I goe? Keep. There is no remedy. Pal. Farewel kind window. May rude wind never hurt thee. Oh my Lady, If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was, Dream how I suffer. Come; now bury me. [Exeunt Palamon and Keeper.

Arcite. Banish'd the Kingdom? 'tis a benefit, A mercy I must thank 'em for, but banish'd 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 pluck upon me, Palamon; Thou hast the Start now, thou shalt stay and see Her bright eyes break each morning 'gainst thy window, And let in life into thee; Thou shalt feed Upon the sweetness of a noble beauty, That nature never exceeded, nor never 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 mine own is but a heap of ruins, And no redress there, if I go, he has her, I 'm resolv'd an other shape shall make me, Or end my fortunes. Either way, I' m happy: I'll see her, and be near her, or no more.

1. My Masters, I'll be there that's certain. 2. And I'll be there. 3. And I. 4. Why then have with ye Boys; 'Tis but [a] chiding, Let the plough play to day, I'll tick['lt] out Of the jades tails to morrow. 1. I 'm sure To have my wife as jealous as a Turkey: But that's all one, I'll goe through, let her mumble. 2. Clap her aboard to morrow night, and stoa her, And all's made up again. 3. I, do but put a fesku 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. Hold? what should ail us? 3. Arcas, will be there. 2. And Sennois. And Rycas, and 3. Better lads never danc'd under green Tree, And yet know what wenches: ha? But will the dainty Domine, the Schoolemaster keep touch Doe you think: For he do's all ye know.

3. We'll see the sports, then every man to's Tackle: and Sweet Companions lets rehearse by any means, before The Ladies see us, and doe sweetly, and God knows what May come on't. 4. Content; the sports once ended, we'll perform. Away Boys and hold. Arc. By your leaves honest friends: Pray you w[h]ither goe you. 4. Whither? Why, what a question's that! Arc. Yes, 'tis a question, to me that know not. 3. To the Games, my Friend. 2. Where were you bred you know it not? Arc. Not far Sir, Are there such Games, to day? 1. Yes marry are there: And such as you never saw; The Duke, himself Will be in person there. Arc. What pastimes are they? 2. Wrastling, and Running; 'Tis a pretty Fellow. 3. Thou wilt not goe along. Arc. Not yet Sir. 4. Well Sir Take your own time, come Boys. 1. My mind misgives me This fellow has a veng'ance trick o'th hip, Marke how his Bodi's made for't. 2. I'll be hang'd though If he dare venture, hang him plumb-porredge, He wrestle? He rost eggs. Come lets be gon Lads. [Exeunt 4. Arc. This is an offer'd oportunity I durst not wish for. Well, I could have wrestled, The best men call'd it excellent, and run Swifter, than wind upon a feild of Corn (Curling the wealthy ears) never flew: I'll venture, And in some poor disguize be there, who knows Whether my brows may not be girt with garlands? And happiness prefer me to a place, Where I may ever dwell in sight of her. [Exit Arcite.

Daugh. Why should I love this Gentleman? 'Tis odds He never will affect me; [I am] base, My Father the mean Keeper of his Prison, And he a Prince; To marry him is hopeless; To be his whore, is witles; Out upon't; What pushes are we wenches driven to When fifteen once has found us? First I saw him, I (seeing) thought he was a goodly man; He has as much to please a woman in him, (If he please to bestow it so) as 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 young hansom Man; Then I lov'd him, (Extremely lov'd him) infinitely lov'd him; And yet he had [a] Cosen, fair as he too. But in my heart was Palamon, and there Lord, what a coyl he keepes! To hear 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 bows his noble body, then salutes me, thus: Fair, gentle Mayd, good morrow, may thy goodness, 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 fain 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.

Thes. You have done worthily; I have not seen Since Hercules, a man of tougher sinews; What ere you are, you run the best, and wrestle, That these times can allow. Arcite. I'm proud to please you. Thes. What Countrie bred you? Arcite. This; But far off, Prince. Thes. Are you a Gentleman? Arcite. My father said so; And to those gentle uses gave me life. Thes. Are you his heir? Arcite. His youngest Sir. Thes. Your Father Sure is a happy S[ir]e, then: What proves you? Arcite. A little of all noble Qualities: I could have kept a Hawk, and well have hollow'd To a deep crie of Dogs; 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 Soldier. Thes. You are perfect. Pirith. Upon my soul, a proper man. Emilia. He is so. Per. How doe you like him Ladie? Hip. I admire him, I have not seen so young a man, so noble (If he say true,) of his sort. Emil. Believe, His mother was a wondrous handsome woman, His face me thinks, goes that way. Hip. But his Body And firie mind, illustrate a brave Father. Per. Mark how his virtue, like a hidden Sun, Breaks through his baser garments. Hip. He's well got sure. Thes. What made you seek this place Sir? Arc. Noble Theseus. To purchase name, and doe my ablest service To such a well-found wonder, as thy worth, For only in thy Court, of all the world Dwells fair-ey'd honor. Per. All his words are worthy. Thes. Sir, we are much endebted to your travell, Nor shall you loose your wish: Perithous Dispose of this faire Gentleman. Perith. Thanks Theseus. What ere you are y'are mine, and I shall give you To a most noble service, to this Lady, This bright young Virgin; Pray observe her goodness; You have honour'd her fair birth-day, with your virtues, And as your due y'are hers: kiss her fair hand Sir. Arc. Sir, y'are a noble Giver: dearest Beautie, Thus let me seal my vow'd faith: when your Servant (Your most unworthie Creature) but offends you, Command him die, he shall. Emil. That were too cruell. If you deserve well Sir; I shall soon see't: Y'are mine, and somewhat better than your ranck I'll use you. Per. I'll see you furnish'd, and because you say You are a horseman, I must needs intreat you This after noon to ride, but 'tis a rough one. Arc. I like him better (Prince) I shall not then Freeze in my Saddle. Thes. 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 Dian's wood: wait well Sir, Upon your Mistris: Emely, I hope He shall not goe a foot. Emil. 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'll find a loving Mistris. Arc. If I doe not, Let me find that my Father ever hated, Disgrace, and blows. Thes. Go lead the way; You have won it: It shall be so; You shall receive all dues Fit for the honor you have won; 'Twere wrong else. Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a Servant, That if I were a woman, would be Master, But you are wise. [Florish. Emil. I hope too wise for that Sir. [Exeunt omnes.

Daughter. Let all the Dukes, and all the divells rore, He is at liberty: I have ventur'd 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 Brook, and there he shall keep close, Till I provide him Fyles, and food; 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 iron, 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 Find me, and then condemne me for't; Some wenches, Some honest hearted Maids, 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, Maids will not so easily Trust men again: And yet he has not thank'd me For what I have done: no not so much as kist me, And that (me thinks) is not so well; Nor scarcely Could I persuade 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 I'll proclaim him, And to his face, no man: I'll presently Provide him necessaries, and pack my cloaths up, And where there is a path of ground I'll venture So he be with me; By him, like a shadow I'll ever dwell; Within this hour the whoobub Will be all o'er the prison: [I am] then Kissing the man they look for: Farewell Father, Get many more such prisoners, and such daughters, And shortly you may keep your self. Now to him:

Arcite. The Duke has lost Hypolita; Each took A severall land. This is a solemn Right They owe bloom'd May, and the Athenians pay it To 'th' heart of Ceremony: O Queen Emilia Fresher than May, sweeter Then her gold Buttons on the bows, or all Th'enamell'd knacks o'th' Mead, or garden, ye[a] (We challenge too) the banck of any Nymph That makes the stream seem flowers; Thou o Jewell O'th wood, o'th world, hast likewise blest a pace With thy sole presence, in thy rumination That I poor man might eftsoones come betwen And chop on some cold thought, thrice blessed chance To drop on such a Mistris, expectation Most guiltless on't: tell me O Lady Fortune (Next after Emely my Sovereign) how far I may be proud. She takes strong note of me, Hath made me near her; and this beauteous Morn (The prim'st of all the year) presents me with A brace of horses, two such Steeds might well Be by a pair of Kings backt, in a Field That their crowns titles tried: Alas, alas Poor Cosen Palamon, poor prisoner, thou So little dream'st upon my fortune, that Thou thinkst thy self, the happier thing, to be So near Emilia, me thou deem'st at Thebs, And therein wretched, although free; But if Thou knew'st my Mistris breath'd on me, and that I ear'd her language, liv'd in her eye; O Coz What passion would enclose thee.

Palamon. Traytor kinsman, Thou shouldst perceive my passion, if these signs Of prisonment were off me, and this hand But owner of a Sword: By all oaths in one I, and the justice of my love would make thee A confest Traytor: O thou most perfidious That ever gently look'd the voydes of honor. That ev'r bore gentle Token; falsest Cosen That ever blood made kin, call'st thou her thine? I'll prove it in my Shackles, with these hands, Void of appointment, that thou ly'st, and art A very theef in love, a Chaffy Lord Nor worth the name of villain: had I a Sword And these house cloggs away. Arc. Dear Cosin Palamon. Pal. Cosoner Arcite, give me language, such As thou hast shew'd me feat. Arc. Not finding in The circuit of my breast, any gross stuff To form me like your blazon, holds me to This gentleness 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 fair Coz I'll maintain my proceedings; pray be pleas'd To shew in generous terms, your griefs, since that Your question's with your equall, who professes To clear his own way, with the mind and Sword Of a true Gentleman. Pal. That tho[u] durst Arcite. Arc. My Coz, my Coz, you have been well advertis'd How much I dare, y'ave seen me use my Sword Against th' advice of fear: sure of another You would not hear me doubted, but your silence Should break out, though i'th' Sanctuary. Pal. Sir, I have seen you move in such a place, which well Might justifie your manhood, you were call'd A good knight and a bold; But the whole week's not fair If any day it rayn: Their valiant temper Men loose when they encline to trecherie, And then they fight like coupel'd Beeres, would fly Were they not ty'd. Arc. Kinsman, you might as well Speak this, and act it in your Glass, as to His ear, which now disdains you. Pal. Come up to me, Quit me of these cold Gyves, give me a Sword Though it be rustie, and the charity Of one meal lend me; Come before me then, A good Sword in thy hand, and doe but say That Emily is thine, I will forgive The trespass thou hast done [me, yea] my life If then thou carry't, and brave souls in shades That have di'd manly, which will seek of me Some news from earth, they shall get none but this, That thou art brave, and noble. Arc. Be content, Again betake you to your hawthorn house, With counsel 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 self, and say but Arcite [I am] in plight, there shall be at your choice Both Sword, and Armor. Pal. Oh you heavens, dare any So noble bear a guilty business! none But only Arcite, therefore none but Arcite In this kind is so bold. Arc. Sweet Palamon. Pal. I doe embrace you, and your offer, for Your offer do't I only, Sir your person Without hypocrisy I may not wish [Wind horns of Cornets. More than my Swords edge ont. Arc. You hear the Horns; Enter your Musick least this match between's Be crost e'r met, give me your hand, farewell. I'll bring you every needfull thing: I pray you Take comfort and be strong. Pal. Pray hold your promise; And doe the deed with a bent brow, most certain You love me not, be rough with me, and pour This oil o[u]t of your language; by this ayr I could for each word, give a Cuff: my stomach Not reconcil'd by reason. Arc. Plainly spoken, Yet pardon me hard language, when I spur [Wind horns. My horse, I chide him not; content, and anger In me have but one face. Hark Sir, they call The scatter'd to the Banket; you must guess I have an office there. Pal. Sir your attendance Cannot please heaven, and I know your office Unjustly is atcheiv'd. Arc. If a good title, I'm persuaded this question sick between's, By bleeding must be cur'd. I'm a Suitor, That to your Sword you will bequeath this plea, And talk of it no more. Pal. But this one word: You are going now to gaze upon my Mistris, For note you, mine she is. Arc. Nay then. Pal. Nay pray you, You talk of feeding me to breed me strength You are going now to look upon a Sun That strengthens what it looks on, there You have a vantage o'er me, but enjoy't till I may enforce my remedy. Farewell. [Exeunt.

Daugh. He has mistook; the Beak I meant, is gone After his fancy, 'Tis now welnigh morning, No matter, would it were perpetuall night, And darkness Lord o'th' world, Hark 'tis a wolf: In me hath grief slain fear, and but for one thing I care for nothing, and that's Palamon. I wreak not if the wolves would jaw me, so He had this Fi[l]e; what if I hollow'd for him? I cannot hollow: if I whoop'd; what then? If he not answer'd, I should call a wolf, And doe him but that service. I have heard Strange howls this live-long night, why may't not be They have made prey of him? he has no weapons, He cannot run, the Jengling of his Gives Might call fell things to listen, who have in them A sence to know a man unarm'd, and can Smell where resistance is. I'll set it down He's torn to peeces, they howl'd 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 self to beg, if I priz'd life so much As to deny my act, but that I would not, Should I try death by dussons: I am mop't, Food took I non[e] these two daies. Sipt some water, I have not clos'd mine eyes Save when my lids scowrd off their bine; alas Dissolve my life, Let not my sence unsettle Least I should drown, or stab or hang my self. O state of Nature, fail 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 Moon is down, the Cr'ckets chirpe, the Schreich-owl Calls in the dawn; all offices are done Save what I fail in: But the point is this An end, and that is all. [Exit.

Arc. I should be near the place, hoa. Cosen Palamon.

Pal. Arcite? Arc. The same: I have brought you food and files, Come forth and fear not, here's no Theseus. Pal. Nor none so honest Arcite. Arc. That's no matter, We'll argue that hereafter: Come take courage, You shall not dye thus beastly, here Sir drink: I know you're faint, then I'll talk further with you. Pal. Arcite, thou mightst now poyson me. Arc. I might. But I must fear you first: Sit down, and good now No more of these vain parlies; let us not Having our ancient reputation with us Make talk for Fools, and Cowards, To your health. &c. Pal. Doe. Arc. Pray sit dow[n] then, and let me entreat you By all the honesty and honor in you, No mention of this woman, 't will disturb us, We shall have time enough. Pal. Well Sir, I'll pledge you. Arc. Drinke a good hearty draught, it breeds good blood man. Doe not you feel it thaw you? Pal. Stay, I'll tell you after a draught or two more. Arc. Spare it not, the Duke has more Cuz: Eat now. Pal. Yes. Arc. [I am] glad you have so good a stomach. Pal. [I am] gladder I have so good meat to't. Arc. Is't not mad lodging here in the wild woods Cosen? Pal. Yes, for them that have wild Consciences. Arc. How tasts your victuals? your hunger needs no sawce I see. Pal. Not much. But if it did, yours is too tart: sweet Cosen: what is this? Arc. Venison. Pal. 'Tis a lusty meat: Give me more wine; here Arcite to the wenches We have known in our daies. The Lord Stewards daughter. Doe you remember her? Arc. After you Cuz. Pal. She lov'd a black-hair'd man. Arc. She did so; well Sir. Pal. And I have heard some call him Arcite; an. Arc. Out with't faith. Pal. She met him in an Arbor: What did she there Cuz? play o'the virginals? Arc. Something she did Sir. Pal. Made her groan a Month for't; or 2. or 3. or 10. Arc. The Marshals Sister, Had her share too, as I remember Cosen, Else there be tales abroad, you'll pledge her? Pal. Yes. Arc. A pretty brown wench 'tis: There was a time When young men went a hunting, and a wood, And a broad beech: and thereby hangs a tale: heigh ho. Pal. For Emily, upon my life, fool A way with this strain'd mirth; I say again That sigh was breath'd for Emily; base Cosen, Dar'st thou break first? Arc. You are wide. Pal. By heaven and earth, there's nothing in thee honest. Arc. Then I'll leave you: you are a Beast now: Pal. As thou mak'st me, Traytor. Arc. There's all things needfull, files and shirts, and perfumes. I'll come again some two hours hence, and bring That that shall quiet all. Pal. A Sword and Armor. Arc. Fear me not; you are now too fowl; farewell. Get off your Trinkets, you shall want nought. Pal. Sir ha: Arc. I'll here no more. [Exit. Pal. If he keep touch, he dies for't. [Exit.

Daugh. I am very cold, and all the Stars are out too, The little Stars, and all, that look like aglets: The Sun has seen my Folly: Palamon; Alas no; he's in heaven; where am I now? Yonder's the sea, and there's a Ship; how't tumbles And there's a Rock lies watching under water; Now, now, it beats upon it; now, now, now, There's a leak sprung, a sound one, how they cry! Upon her before the wind, you'll loose all els: Up with a course or two, and tack about Boys. Good night, good night, y'are gone; I'm very hungry, Would I could find a fine Frog; he would tell me News from all parts o'th' world, then would I make A Careck of a Cockle-shell, and sayll By East and North East to the King of Pigmies, For he tels fortunes rarely. Now my Father Twenty to one is trust up in a trice To morrow morning, I'll say never a word.

For I'll cut my green coat, afoot above my knee, And I'll clip my yellow locks; an inch below mine eie. hey, nonny, nonny, nonny. He's buy me a whit Cut, forth for to ride And I'll goe seek him, throw the world that is so wide. hey nonny, nonny, nonny. O for a prick now like a Nightingale, to put my brest Against. I shall sleep like a Top else. [Exit.

Sch. Where be your Ribands maids? swym with your Bodies And carry it sweetly, and deliverly And now and then a favor, and a friske. Nel. Let us alone Sir. Sch. Where's the rest o'th' Musick. 3. Dispers'd as you commanded. Sch. Couple then And see what's wanting; where's the Bavian? My friend, carry your tail without offence Or scandall to the Ladies; and be sure You tumble with audacity, and manhood, And when you bark doe it with judgement. Bau. Yes Sir. Sch. Quo usque tandem? Here is a woman wanting. 4. We may goe whistle: all the fat's i'th' fire. Sch. We have, As learned Authors utter, wash'd a Tile, We have been fatuus, and labour'd vainly. 2. This is that scornfull 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 dogs-skin; Nay and she fail me once, you can tell Arcas, She swore by wine, and bread, she would not break. Sch. An E[e]l and woman, A learned Poet sayes: unles by'th' tail And with thy teeth thou hold, will either fail, In manners this was false position. 1. A fire ill take her; do's she flinch now? 3. What Shall we determine Sir? Sch. Nothing, Our business is become a nullity Yea, and a woefull, and a pittious nullity. 4. Now when the credit of our Town lay on it, Now to be frampall, now to piss o'th' nettle, Goe thy ways, I'll remember thee, I'll fit thee.

Daughter, 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 hail'd, well hail'd, you jolly gallants, [Chair and stools out. And whither now are you bound a? O let me have your company till come to the sound a. There was three fools, fell out about an howlet: The one sed it was an owl The other he sed nay, The third he sed it was a hawk, and her bels were cut away. 3. There's a dainty mad woman Mr. comes i'th' Nick, as mad as a march Hare; If we can get her dance, we are made again: I warrant her, she'll do the rarest gambols. 1. A mad woman? we are made Boys. Sch. And are you mad good woman? Daugh. I would be sorry else, Give me your hand. Sch. Why? Daugh. I can tell your fortune. You are a fool: tell ten, I have poz'd him: Buz Friend you must eat no white bread, if you do Your teeth will bleed extremely, shall we dance ho? I know you, y'are a Tinker: Sir, ha Tinker Stop no more holes, but what you should. Sch. Dii boni. A Tinker Damzell? Daug. Or a Conjurer: raise me a devill now; and let him play. Quipassa, o'th' bels and bones. Sch. Go take her, and fluently persuade her to a peace: Et opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignis. Strike up, and lead her in. 2. Come Lass, lets trip it. Daugh. I'll lead. [Wind Horns. 3. Doe, doe. Sch. Persuasively, and cunningly: away boys,

I hear the horns: give me some Meditation, and mark your Cue; Pallas inspire me.

Thes. This way the Stag took. Sch. Stay, and edifie. Thes. What have we here? Per. Some Countrey sport, upon my life Sir. Thes. Well Sir, goe forward, we will edifie. Ladies sit down, we'll stay it. Sch. Thou doughtie Duke all hail: all hail sweet Ladies. Thes. This is a cold beginning. Sch. If you but favor; 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, Chorus That for 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 blown abroad; help me thy poor well willer, And with thy twinckling eyes, look right and straight Upon this mighty Morr—of mickle waight Is—now comes in, which being glew'd together Makes Morris, and the cause that we came hither The body of our sport of no small study I first appear, though rude, and raw, and muddy, To speak before thy noble grace, this tenner: At whose great feet I offer up my penner. The next the Lord of May, and Lady bright, The Chambermaid, and Servingman by night That seek out silent hanging: Then mine Host And his fat Spouse, that welcomes to their cost The gauled Traveller, and with a beck'ning Informes the Tapster to inflame the reck'ning: Then the beast eating Clown, and next the fool, The Bavian, with long tail, and eke long tool Cum multis aliis, that make a dance, Say I, and all shall presently advance. Thes. I, I by any means, dear Domine. Per. Produce. [Musick Dance. Intrate filii, Come forth, and foot it. Knock for Schoolm. Enter The Dance. Ladies, if we have been merry And have pleas'd thee with a derry, And a derry, and a down Say the Schoolmaster's no Clown. Duke, if we have pleas'd thee too And have done as good Boys should doe Give us but a tree or twaine For a Maypole, and again Ere another year run out We'll make thee laugh and all this rout. Thes. Take 20. Domine; how does my sweet heart? Hip. Never so pleas'd Sir. Emil. 'Twas an excellent dance, and for a preface I never heard a better. Thes. Schoolmaster, I thank you, One see'em all rewarded. Per. And heer's something to paint your Pole withall. Thes. Now to our sports again. Sch. May the Stag thou huntst stand long, And thy dogs be swift and strong: May they kill him without lets, And the Ladies eat his dowsets: Come we are all made. [Wind Horns. Dii Deæq; Omnes, ye have danc'd rarely wenches. [Exeunt.

Pal. About this hour my Cosen gave his faith To visit me again, and with him bring Two Swords, and two good Armors; If he fail He's neither man, nor Soldier; When he left me I did not think a week could have restor'd My lost strength to me, I was grown so low, And Crest-fal'n with my wants: I thank thee Arcite, Thou art yet a fair Foe; And I feel my self With this refreshing, able once again 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 Soldier: Therefore this blest morning Shall be the last; And that Sword he refuses, If it but hold, I kill him with; 'tis Justice: So love, and Fortune for me: O good morrow.

Arc. Good morrow noble kinsman. Pal. I have put you To too much pains Sir. Arc. That too much fair Cosen, Is but a debt to honor, and my duty. Pal. Would you were so in all Sir; I could wish ye As kind a kinsman, as you force me find A beneficiall foe, that my embraces Might thank ye, not my blows. Arc. I shall think either Well done, a noble recompence. Pal. Then I shall quit you. Arc. Defy me in these fair terms, and you show More than a Mistris to me, no more anger As you love any thing that's honorable: We were not bred to talk 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 pertains (without obbraidings, scorns, Dispisings of our persons, and such powtings Fitter for Girles and Schooleboyes) will be seen And quickly, yours, or mine: Wilt please you arme Sir? Or if you feel your self not fitting yet And furnish'd with your old strength, I'll stay Cosen And ev'ry day discourse you into health, As I'm spar'd, your person I 'm friends with And I could wish I had not said I lov'd her Though I had [dide]; But loving such a Lady And justifying my Love, I must not fly from't. Pal. Arcite, thou art so brave an enemy That no man but thy Cosen's fit to kill thee, I'm well, and lusty, choose your Armes. Arc. Choose you Sir. Pal. Wilt thou exceed in all, or do'st thou doe it To make me spare thee? Arc. If you think so Cosen, You are deceiv'd, for as I 'm a Soldier, I will not spare you. Pal. That's well said. Arc. You'll find it. Pal. Then as [I am] an honest man and love, With all the justice of affection I'll pay thee soundly: This I'll take. Arc. That's mine then, I'll arme you first. Pal. Do: Pray thee tell me Cosen, Where gotst thou this good Armor? Arc. 'Tis the Dukes, And to say true, I stole it, doe I pinch you? Pal. No. Arc. Is't not too heavie? Pal. I have worn a lighter, But I shall make it serve. Arc. I'll buckl't close. Pal. By any means. Arc. You care not for a Grand guard? Pal. No, no, we'll use no horses, I perceive You would fain be at that Fight. Arc. I'm indifferent. Pal. Faith so am I: Good Cosen, thrust the buckle Through far enough. Arc. I warrant you. Pal. My Cask now. Arc. Will you fight bare-arm'd? Pal. We shall be the nimbler. Arc. But use your Gantlets though; those are o'th' least, Prethee take mine good Cosen. Pal. Thank you Arcite. How doe I look, am I falen much away? Arc. Faith very little; Love has us'd you kindly. Pal. I'll warrant thee, I'll strike home. Arc. Doe, and spare not; I'll give you cause sweet Cosen. Pal. Now to you Sir, Me thinks this Armor's very like that, Arcite, Thou wor'st that day the 3. Kings fell, but lighter. Arc. That was a very good one, and that day I well remember, you out-did me Cosen, I never saw such valour: When you charg'd Upon the left wing of the Enemie, I spur'd hard to come up, and under me I had a right good horse. Pal. You had indeed A bright Bay I remember. Arc. Yes but all Was vainly labour'd in me, you out-went me, Nor could my wishes reach you; Yet a little I did by imitation. Pal. More by virtue, Yo[u] are modest Cosen. Arc. When I saw you charge first, Me thought I heard a dreadfull clap of Thunder Break from the Troop. Pal. But still before that flew The lightning of your valour: Stay a litt[l]e, Is not this peece too streight? Arc. No, no, 'tis well. Pal. I would have nothing hurt thee but my Sword, A bruise would be dishonor. Arc. Now I'm perfect. Pal. Stand off then. Arc. Take my Sword, I hold it better. Pal. I thank ye: No, keep it, your life lyes on it, Here's one, if it but hold, I aske no more, For all my hopes: My Cause and honor guard me.

Arc. And me my love: Is there ought else to say? Pal. This only, 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 sleep in honor, I wish his wearie soul, that falls may win it: Fight bravely Cosen, give me thy noble hand. Arc. Here Palamon: This hand shall never more Come near thee with such friendship. Pal. I commend thee. Arc. 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. Pal. Farewell Arcite. [Fight. [Horns within: they stand. Arc. Loe Cosen, loe, our Folly has undone us. Pal. Why? Arc. This is the Duke, a hunting as I told you, If we be found, we're wretched, O retire For honors sake, and safely presently Into your Bush agen; Sir we shall find Too many hours to dye in, gentle Cosen: If you be seen you perish instantly For breaking prison, and I, if you reveal me, For my contempt; Then all the world will scorn us, And say we had a noble difference, But base disposers of it. Pal. No, no, Cosen I will no more be hidden, nor put off This great adventure to a second Tryall I know your cunning, and I know your cause, He that faints now, shame take him, put thy self Upon thy present guard. Arc. You are not mad? Pal. Or I will make th'advantage of this hour Mine own, and what to come shall threaten me, I fear less then my fortune: Know weak Cosen I love Emilia, and in that I'll bury Thee, and all crosses else. Arc. Then come, what can come Thou shalt know Palamon, I dare as well Die, as discourse, or sleep: Only this fears me, The law will have the honor of our ends, Have at thy life. Pal. Look to thine own well Arcite. [Fight again. Horns.

Theseus. What ignorant and mad malicious Traitors, Are you? That 'gainst the tenor of my Laws Are making Battail, thus like Knights appointed, Without my leave, and Officers of Armes? By Castor both shall dye. Pal. Hold thy word Theseus, We are certainly both Traitors, both despisers Of thee, and of thy goodness: I'm Palamon That cannot love thee, he that broke thy Prison, Think well, what that deserves; And this is Arcite A bolder Traytor never trod thy ground, A Falser never seem'd friend: This is the man Was beg'd and banish'd, this is he contemnes thee And what thou dar'st doe; and in this disguise Against this own Edict follows thy Sister, That fortunate bright Star, the fair Emilia Whose servant, (if there be a right in seeing, And first bequeathing of the soul to) justly [I am], and which is more, dares think her his. This treacherie like a most trusty Lover, I call'd him now to answer; If thou be'st As thou art spoken, great and virtuous, The true decider of all injuries, Say, Fight again, and thou shalt see me Theseus Doe such a Justice, thou thy self wilt envie Then take my life, I'll wooe thee to't. Per. O Heaven, What more than man is this! Thes. I have sworn. Arc. We seek not Thy breath of mercy Theseus, 'Tis to me A thing as soon to dye, as thee to say it, And no more mov'd: where this man calls me Traitor, Let me say thus much; If in love be Treason, In service of so excellent a Beautie, As I love most, and in that faith will perish, As I have brought my life here to confirme it, As I have serv'd her truest, worthiest, As I dare kill this Cosen, that denies it, So let me be most Traitor, and ye please me: For scorning thy Edict Duke, aske that Lady Why she is fair, and why her eyes command me Stay here to love her. And if she say Traytor, I'm a villain fit to lye unburied. Pal. Thou shalt have pity of us both, O Theseus, If unto neither thou shew mercy, stop (As thou art just) thy noble ear against us, As thou art valiant; For thy Cosens soul Whose 12. strong labors crown his memory, Let's die together, at one instant, Duke, Only a little let him fall before me, That I may tell my Soul he shall not have her. Thes. I grant your wish, for to say true, your Cosen Has ten times more offended, for I gave him More mercy than you found, Sir, your offences Being no more than his: None here speak for 'em For ere the Sun set, both shall sleep for ever. Hippol. Alas the pity, now or never Sister Speak not to be denied; That face of yours Will bear the curses else of after ages For these lost Cosens. Emil. In my face dear Sister I find no anger to'em; Nor no ruin, The misadventure of their own eyes kill'em; Yet that I will be woman, and have pitty, My knees shall grow to'th' ground but I'll get mercie. Help me dear Sister, in a deed so virtuous, The powers of all women will be with us, Most royall Brother. Hippol. Sir by our tye of Marriage. Emil. By your own spotless honor. Hip. By that faith, That fair hand, and that honest heart you gave me. Emil. By that you would have pitty in another, By your own virtues infinite. Hip. By valor, By all the chast nights I have ever pleas'd you. Thes. These are strange Conjurings. Per. Nay then I'll in too: By all our friendship Sir, by all our dangers, By all you love most, wars; And this sweet Lady. Emil. By that you would have trembled to deny A blushing Maid. Hip. By your own eyes: By strength In which you swore I went beyond all women, Almost all men, and yet I yielded Theseus. Per. To crown all this; By your most noble soul Which cannot want due mercie, I beg first. Hip. Next hear my prayers. Emil. Last let me intreat Sir. Per. For mercy. Hip. Mercy. Emil. Mercy on these Princes. Thes. Ye make my faith reel: Say I felt Compassion to'em both, how would you place it? Emil. Upon their lives: But with their banishments. Thes. You are a right woman, Sister; You have pitty, But want the understanding where to use it. If you desire their lives, invent a way Safer than banishment: Can these two live And have the agony of love about 'em, And not kill one another? Every day They'ld fight about you; Hourly bring your honor In publique question with their Swords; Be wise then And here forget 'em; It concerns your credit, And my [oth] equally: I have said they die, Better they fall byth' Law, than one another. Bow not my honor. Emil. O my noble Brother, That [oth] was rashly made, and in yo[u]r anger, Your reason will not hold it, if such vows Stand for express will, all the world must perish. Beside, I have another oath, gainst yours Of more authority, I'm sure more love, Not made in passion neither, but good heed. Thes. What is it Sister? Per. Urge it home brave Lady. Emil. That you would never deny me any thing Fit for my modest suit, and your free granting: I tye you to your word now, if ye fall in't, Think how you maim your honor; (For now I'm set a begging Sir, I'm deaf To all but your compassion) how, their lives Might breed the ruin of my name; Opinion, Shall any thing that loves me perish for me? That were a cruell wisdom, doe men proyn The straight young Bows that blush with thousand Blossoms Because they may be rotten? O Duke Theseus The goodly Mothers that have groan'd for these, And all the longing Maids that ever lov'd, If your vow stand, shall curse me and my Beauty, And in their funerall songs, for these two Cosens Despise my crueltie, and cry woe worth me, Till I'm nothing but the scorn of women; For Heavens sake save their lives, and banish 'em. Thes. On what conditions? Emil. Swear'em never more To make me their Contention, or to know me, To tread upon the Dukedome, and to be Where ever they shall travel, ever strangers to one another. Pal. I'll be cut a peeces Before I take this oath, forget I love her? O all ye gods dispise me then: Thy Banishment I not mislike, so we may fairly carry Our Swords, and cause along: Else never trifle, But take our lives Duke, I must love and will, And for that love, must and dare kill this Cosen On any peece the earth has. Thes. Will you Arcite Take these conditions? Pal. He's a villain then. Per. These are men. Arcite. No, never Duke: 'Tis worse to me than begging To take my life so basely, though I think I never shall enjoy her, yet I'll preserve The honor of affection, and dye for her, Make death a Devill. Thes. What may be done? For now I feel compassion. Per. Let it not fall again Sir. Thes. Say Emilia If one of them were dead, as one must, are you Content to take th'other to your husband? They cannot both enjoy you; They are Princes As goodly as your own eyes, and as noble As ever fame yet spoke of: Look upon'em, And if you can love, end this difference, I give consent, are you content too, Princes? Both. With all our souls. Thes. He that she refuses Must dye then. Both. Any death thou canst invent Duke. Pal. If I fall from that mouth, I fall with favor. And Lovers yet unborn shall bless my ashes. Arc. If she refuse me, yet my grave will wed me, And Soldiers sing my Epitaph. Thes. Make choice then. Emil. I cannot Sir, they are both too excellent For me, a hayr shall never fall of these men. Hip. What will become of 'em? Thes. Thus I ordain it, And by mine honor, once again it stands, Or both shall dye. You shall both to your Countrey, And each within this month accompanied With three fair Knights, appear again in this place, In which I'll plant a Pyramid; And whether Before us that are here, can force his Cosen By fair and knightly strength to touch the Pillar, He shall enjoy her: The other loose his head, And all his friends: Nor shall he grudge to fall, Nor think he dies with interest in this Lady: Will this content ye? Pal. Yes: Here Cosen Arcite I'm friends again, till that hour. Arc. I embrace ye. Thes. Are you content Sister? Emil. Yes, I must Sir, [Els] both miscarry. Thes. Come shake hands again then, And take heed, as you are Gentlemen, this Quarrell Sleep till the hour p[re]fixt, and hold your course. Pal. We dare not fail thee Theseus. T[h]es. Come, I'll give ye Now usage like to Princes, and to Friends: When ye return, who wins, I'll settle here, Who loses, yet I'll weep upon his Beer. [Exeunt.