It is hard to imagine a world without Shakespeare. Since their composition four hundred years ago, Shakespeare’s plays and poems have traveled the globe, inviting those who see and read his works to make them their own.
Readers of the New Folger Editions are part of this ongoing process of “taking up Shakespeare,” finding our own thoughts and feelings in language that strikes us as old or unusual and, for that very reason, new. We still struggle to keep up with a writer who could think a mile a minute, whose words paint pictures that shift like clouds. These expertly edited texts are presented to the public as a resource for study, artistic adaptation, and enjoyment. By making the classic texts of the New Folger Editions available in electronic form as The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts), we place a trusted resource in the hands of anyone who wants them.
The New Folger Editions of Shakespeare’s plays, which are the basis for the texts realized here in digital form, are special because of their origin. The Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, DC, is the single greatest documentary source of Shakespeare’s works. An unparalleled collection of early modern books, manuscripts, and artwork connected to Shakespeare, the Folger’s holdings have been consulted extensively in the preparation of these texts. The Editions also reflect the expertise gained through the regular performance of Shakespeare’s works in the Folger’s Elizabethan Theatre.
I want to express my deep thanks to editors Barbara Mowat and Paul Werstine for creating these indispensable editions of Shakespeare’s works, which incorporate the best of textual scholarship with a richness of commentary that is both inspired and engaging. Readers who want to know more about Shakespeare and his plays can follow the paths these distinguished scholars have tread by visiting the Folger either in-person or online, where a range of physical and digital resources exists to supplement the material in these texts. I commend to you these words, and hope that they inspire.
Director, Folger Shakespeare Library
Until now, with the release of The Folger Shakespeare (formerly Folger Digital Texts), readers in search of a free online text of Shakespeare’s plays had to be content primarily with using the Moby™ Text, which reproduces a late-nineteenth century version of the plays. What is the difference? Many ordinary readers assume that there is a single text for the plays: what Shakespeare wrote. But Shakespeare’s plays were not published the way modern novels or plays are published today: as a single, authoritative text. In some cases, the plays have come down to us in multiple published versions, represented by various Quartos (Qq) and by the great collection put together by his colleagues in 1623, called the First Folio (F). There are, for example, three very different versions of Hamlet, two of King Lear, Henry V, Romeo and Juliet, and others. Editors choose which version to use as their base text, and then amend that text with words, lines or speech prefixes from the other versions that, in their judgment, make for a better or more accurate text.
Other editorial decisions involve choices about whether an unfamiliar word could be understood in light of other writings of the period or whether it should be changed; decisions about words that made it into Shakespeare’s text by accident through four hundred years of printings and misprinting; and even decisions based on cultural preference and taste. When the Moby™ Text was created, for example, it was deemed “improper” and “indecent” for Miranda to chastise Caliban for having attempted to rape her. (See The Tempest, 1.2: “Abhorred slave,/Which any print of goodness wilt not take,/Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee…”). All Shakespeare editors at the time took the speech away from her and gave it to her father, Prospero.
The editors of the Moby™ Shakespeare produced their text long before scholars fully understood the proper grounds on which to make the thousands of decisions that Shakespeare editors face. The Folger Library Shakespeare Editions, on which the Folger Shakespeare texts depend, make this editorial process as nearly transparent as is possible, in contrast to older texts, like the Moby™, which hide editorial interventions. The reader of the Folger Shakespeare knows where the text has been altered because editorial interventions are signaled by square brackets (for example, from Othello: “If she in chains of magic were not bound,
”), half-square brackets (for example, from Henry V: “With
blood
and sword and fire to win your right,”), or angle brackets (for example, from Hamlet: “O farewell, honest
soldier.
Who hath relieved/you?”). At any point in the text, you can hover your cursor over a bracket for more information.
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The Two Noble Kinsmen, derived from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, begins as Athens defeats Thebes in war. Arcite and Palamon, Theban knights and devoted cousins, are imprisoned in Athens. From their cell, they see Emilia, the sister-in-law of Theseus, Duke of Athens. Both fall in love with her, becoming bitter rivals.
Arcite is released but, for love of Emilia, stays in Athens at the risk of his life. The jailer’s daughter, who loves Palamon, helps him escape, but goes mad with anxiety. Her original wooer cures her by courting her while pretending to be Palamon.
Arcite encounters Palamon and challenges him to formal combat for Emilia. Theseus discovers them before they duel. He first sentences both to death, but then establishes a contest in which each will participate with Theban comrades. The loser and his knights will die. The winner will wed Emilia.
Arcite prays to Mars for victory; Palamon, to Venus for Emilia’s love. Both prayers are answered. Arcite wins, but dies after a riding accident. Palamon, spared from execution, marries Emilia.
Flourish . Ente …
Much followed both , for both much money giv’n ,
If they stand sound and well . And a good play ,
Whose modest scenes blush on his marriage day
And shake to lose his honor , is like her
That after holy tie and first night’s stir
Yet still is modesty , and still retains
More of the maid , to sight , than husband’s pains .
We pray our play may be so , for I am sure
It has a noble breeder and a pure ,
A learnèd , and a poet never went
More famous yet ’twixt Po and silver Trent .
Chaucer , of all admired , 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 underground ‘O , fan
From me the witless chaff of such a writer
That blasts my bays and my famed 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
Scenes , though below his art , may yet appear
Worth two hours’ travel . To his bones sweet sleep ;
[7] PROLOGUE 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 .
[11]
ACT 1
Scene 1
a white robe before , singing and strewing flowers .
After Hymen , a Nymph encompassed in her tresses ,
bearing a wheaten garland ; then Theseus between
two other Nymphs with wheaten chaplets on their
heads . Then Hippolyta , the bride , led by Pirithous ,
and another holding a garland over her head , her
tresses likewise hanging . After her , Emilia , holding
up her train . Then Artesius and Attendants .
The Song , sung by the Boy .
Not royal in their smells alone ,
But in their hue ;
Maiden pinks , of odor faint ,
Daisies smell-less , yet most quaint ,
And sweet thyme true ;
Primrose , firstborn child of Ver ,
Merry springtime’s harbinger ,
With her bells dim ;
Oxlips in their cradles growing ,
Marigolds on deathbeds blowing ,
Lark’s-heels trim ;
All dear Nature’s children sweet
Lie ’fore bride and bridegroom’s feet ,
Strew flowers .
[13] ACT 1. SC. 1 Blessing their sense .
Not an angel of the air ,
Bird melodious or bird fair ,
Is absent hence .
The crow , the sland’rous cuckoo , nor
The boding raven , nor chough hoar ,
Nor chatt’ring pie ,
May on our bridehouse perch or sing ,
Or with them any discord bring ,
But from it fly .
imperial crowns . The first Queen falls down at the foot
of Theseus ; the second falls down at the foot of
Hippolyta ; the third before Emilia .
Hear and respect me .
And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair
ones ,
Hear and respect me .
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 .
What woman I may stead that is distressed
Does bind me to her .
[15]ACT 1. SC. 1
The wrath of cruel Creon ; who endured
The beaks of ravens , talons of the kites ,
And pecks of crows in the foul fields of Thebes .
He will not suffer us to burn their bones ,
To urn their ashes , nor to take th’ offense
Of mortal loathsomeness from the blest eye
Of holy Phoebus , but infects the winds
With stench of our slain lords . O , pity , duke !
Thou purger of the Earth , draw thy feared sword
That does good turns to th’ world ; give us the bones
Of our dead kings , that we may chapel them ;
And of thy boundless goodness take some note
That for our crownèd heads we have no roof
Save this , which is the lion’s and the bear’s ,
And vault to everything .
I was transported with your speech and suffered
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 nor threshed nor blasted . Fortune at you
Dimpled her cheek with smiles . Hercules , our
kinsman ,
Then weaker than your eyes , laid by his club ;
[17] ACT 1. SC. 1 He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide
And swore his sinews thawed . O grief and time ,
Fearful consumers , you will all devour !
Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood ,
Whereto he’ll infuse power , and press you forth
Our undertaker .
Unto the helmeted Bellona use them
And pray for me , your soldier .
Troubled I am .
Most dreaded Amazonian , that hast slain
The scythe-tusked boar ; that with thy arm , as strong
As it is white , wast near to make the male
To thy sex captive , but that this thy lord ,
Born to uphold creation in that honor
First nature styled it in , shrunk thee into
The bound thou wast o’erflowing , at once subduing
Thy force and thy affection ; soldieress
That equally canst poise 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 thy speech , dear glass of ladies ,
Bid him that we , whom flaming war doth scorch ,
Under the shadow of his sword may cool us ;
Require him he advance it o’er our heads ;
Speak ’t in a woman’s key , like such a woman
As any of us three ; weep ere you fail .
Lend us a knee ;
But touch the ground for us no longer time
Than a dove’s motion when the head’s plucked off .
Tell him if he i’ th’ blood-sized field lay swoll’n ,
Showing the sun his teeth , grinning at the moon ,
What you would do .
[19]ACT 1. SC. 1
I had as lief trace this good action with you
As that whereto I am 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 .
Set down in ice , which by hot grief uncandied
Melts into drops ; so sorrow , wanting form ,
Is pressed with deeper matter .
Your grief is written in your cheek .
You cannot read it there .
There through my tears ,
Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy 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 . O , pardon me !
Extremity , that sharpens sundry wits ,
Makes me a fool .
Who cannot feel nor see the rain , being in ’t ,
Knows neither wet nor dry . If that you were
The groundpiece of some painter , I would buy you
T’ instruct me ’gainst a capital grief — indeed ,
Such heart-pierced demonstration . But , alas ,
Being a natural sister of our sex ,
Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me
That it shall make a counter-reflect ’gainst
My brother’s heart and warm it to some pity ,
Though it were made of stone . Pray have good
comfort .
[21]ACT 1. SC. 1
O’ th’ sacred ceremony .
Will longer last and be more costly than
Your suppliants’ war . Remember that your fame
Knolls in the ear o’ th’ world ; what you do quickly
Is not done rashly ; your first thought is more
Than others’ labored meditance , your premeditating
More than their actions . But , O Jove , your actions ,
Soon as they move , as ospreys do the fish ,
Subdue before they touch . Think , dear duke , think
What beds our slain kings have !
That our dear lords have none !
Those that with cords , knives , drams , precipitance ,
Weary of this world’s light , have to themselves
Been death’s most horrid agents , human grace
Affords them dust and shadow .
Lie blist’ring ’fore the visitating sun ,
And were good kings when living .
To give your dead lords graves ;
The which to do must make some work with Creon .
Now ’twill take form ; the heats are gone tomorrow .
Then , bootless toil must recompense itself
With its own sweat . Now he’s secure ,
Not dreams we stand before your puissance ,
Rinsing our holy begging in our eyes
To make petition clear .
[23]ACT 1. SC. 1
Drunk with his victory .
Of bread and sloth .
How to draw out , fit to this enterprise ,
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 .
Let us be widows to our woes . Delay
Commends us to a famishing hope .
Cull forth , as unpanged judgment can , fitt’st time
For best solicitation ?
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 .
Our suit shall be neglected when her arms ,
Able to lock Jove from a synod , shall
By warranting moonlight corselet thee . O , when
Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall
Upon thy tasteful lips , what wilt thou think
Of rotten kings or blubbered queens ? What care
For what thou feel’st not , what thou feel’st being
able
To make Mars spurn his drum ? O , if thou couch
But one night with her , every hour in ’t will
[25] ACT 1. SC. 1 Take hostage of thee for a hundred , and
Thou shalt remember nothing more than what
That banquet bids thee to .
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 aye 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 .
Our cause cries for your knee .
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 anything , nor be so hardy
Ever to take a husband .
I am entreating of myself to do
That which you kneel to have me . — Pirithous ,
Lead on the bride ; get you and pray the gods
For success and return ; omit not anything
In the pretended celebration . — Queens ,
Follow your soldier .
you ,
[27] ACT 1. SC. 1 And at the banks of Aulis meet us with
The forces you can raise , where we shall find
The moiety of a number for a business
More bigger looked .
I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip ;
Sweet , keep it as my token . — Set you forward ,
For I will see you gone .
towards the temple .
Farewell , my beauteous sister . — Pirithous ,
Keep the feast full ; bate not an hour on ’t .
I’ll follow you at heels . The feast’s solemnity
Shall want till your return .
Budge not from Athens . We shall be returning
Ere you can end this feast , of which I pray you
Make no abatement . — Once more , farewell all .
world .
Thou , being but mortal , makest affections bend
To godlike honors ; they themselves , some say ,
Groan under such a mast’ry .
Thus should we do ; being sensually subdued ,
We lose our human title . Good cheer , ladies .
Now turn we towards your comforts .
[29]ACT 1. SC. 2
Scene 2
And our prime cousin , yet unhardened in
The crimes of nature , let us leave the city
Thebes , and the temptings in ’t , before we further
Sully our gloss of youth ,
And here to keep in abstinence we shame
As in incontinence ; for not to swim
I’ th’ aid o’ th’ current were almost to sink ,
At least to frustrate striving ; and to follow
The common stream , ’twould bring us to an eddy
Where we should turn or drown ; if labor through ,
Our gain but life and weakness .
Is cried up with example . What strange ruins ,
Since first we went to school , may we perceive
Walking in Thebes ! Scars and bare weeds
The gain o’ th’ martialist , who did propound
To his bold ends honor and golden ingots ,
Which though he won , he had not , and now flirted
By peace for whom he fought . Who then shall offer
To Mars’s so-scorned altar ? I do bleed
When such I meet , and wish great Juno would
Resume her ancient fit of jealousy
To get the soldier work , that peace might purge
For her repletion , and retain anew
Her charitable heart , now hard and harsher
Than strife or war could be .
Meet you no ruin but the soldier in
The cranks and turns of Thebes ? You did begin
As if you met decays of many kinds .
[31] ACT 1. SC. 2 Perceive you none that do arouse your pity
But th’ unconsidered soldier ?
Decays where’er I find them , but such most
That , sweating in an honorable toil ,
Are paid with ice to cool ’em .
I did begin to speak of . This is virtue
Of no respect in Thebes . I spake of Thebes —
How dangerous , if we will keep our honors ,
It is for our residing , where every evil
Hath a good color ; where every seeming good’s
A certain evil ; where not to be e’en jump
As they are here were to be strangers , and ,
Such things to be , mere monsters .
Unless we fear that apes can tutor ’s — to
Be masters of our manners . What need I
Affect another’s gait , which is not catching
Where there is faith ? Or to be fond upon
Another’s way of speech , when by mine own
I may be reasonably conceived — saved too ,
Speaking it truly ? Why am I bound
By any generous bond to follow him
Follows his tailor , haply so long until
The followed make pursuit ? Or let me know
Why mine own barber is unblessed , with him
My poor chin too , for ’tis not scissored just
To such a favorite’s glass ? What canon is there
That does command my rapier from my hip
To dangle ’t in my hand , or to go tiptoe
Before the street be foul ? Either I am
The forehorse in the team , or I am none
That draw i’ th’ sequent trace . These poor slight
sores
[33] ACT 1. SC. 2 Need not a plantain . That which rips my bosom
Almost to th’ heart’s —
A most unbounded tyrant , whose successes
Makes heaven unfeared and villainy assured
Beyond its power there’s nothing ; almost puts
Faith in a fever , 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 ; one
That fears not to do harm ; good , dares not . Let
The blood of mine that’s sib to him be sucked
From me with leeches ; let them break and fall
Off me with that corruption .
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 .
I think the echoes of his shames have deafed
The ears of heav’nly justice . Widows’ cries
Descend again into their throats and have not
Due audience of the gods .
Valerius .
Till his great rage be off him . Phoebus , when
He broke his whipstock and exclaimed against
The horses of the sun , but whispered to
The loudness of his fury .
[35]ACT 1. SC. 2
But what’s the matter ?
Deadly defiance to him and pronounces
Ruin to Thebes , who is at hand to seal
The promise of his wrath .
But that we fear the gods in him , he brings not
A jot of terror to us . Yet what man
Thirds his own worth — the case is each of ours —
When that his action’s dregged with mind assured
’Tis bad he goes about ?
Our services stand now for Thebes , 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 .
be ,
On fail of some condition ?
The intelligence of state came in the instant
With the defier .
A quarter carrier of that honor which
His enemy come in , the blood we venture
Should be as for our health , which were not spent ,
Rather laid out for purchase . But alas ,
Our hands advanced before our hearts , what will
The fall o’ th’ stroke do damage ?
That never-erring arbitrator , tell us
[37] ACT 1. SC. 3 When we know all ourselves , and let us follow
The becking of our chance .
Scene 3
To our great lord , of whose success I dare not
Make any timorous question ; yet I wish him
Excess and overflow of power , an ’t might be ,
To dure ill-dealing fortune . Speed to him .
Store never hurts good governors .
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-tempered pieces keep enthroned
In your dear heart !
To our all-royal brother , for whose speed
The great Bellona I’ll solicit ; and
Since in our terrene state petitions are not
Without gifts understood , I’ll offer to her
What I shall be advised she likes . Our hearts
Are in his army , in his tent .
We have been soldiers , and we cannot weep
When our friends don their helms or put to sea ,
Or tell of babes broached on the lance , or women
That have sod their infants in — and after ate them —
The brine they wept at killing ’em . Then if
[39] ACT 1. SC. 3 You stay to see of us such spinsters , we
Should hold you here forever .
As I pursue this war , which shall be then
Beyond further requiring .
Follows his friend ! Since his depart , his sports ,
Though craving seriousness and skill , passed slightly
His careless execution , where nor gain
Made him regard , or loss consider , but
Playing one business in his hand , another
Directing in his head , his mind nurse equal
To these so diff’ring twins . Have you observed him
Since our great lord departed ?
And I did love him for ’t . They two have cabined
In many as dangerous as poor a corner ,
Peril and want contending ; they have skiffed
Torrents whose roaring tyranny and power
I’ th’ least of these was dreadful , and they have
Fought out together where Death’s self was lodged .
Yet fate hath brought them off . Their knot of love ,
Tied , weaved , entangled , with so true , so long ,
And with a finger of so deep a cunning ,
May be outworn , 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 .
There is a best , and reason has no manners
To say it is not you . I was acquainted
Once with a time when I enjoyed a playfellow ;
You were at wars when she the grave enriched ,
Who made too proud the bed ; took leave o’ th’ moon ,
Which then looked pale at parting , when our count
Was each eleven .
[41]ACT 1. SC. 3
You talk of Pirithous’ and Theseus’ love .
Theirs has more ground , is more maturely seasoned ,
More buckled with strong judgment , 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 ,
Loved 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 liked
Was then of me approved , what not , condemned ,
No more arraignment . The flower that I would pluck
And put between my breasts — O , 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 , Phoenix-like ,
They died in perfume . On my head no toy
But was her pattern ; her affections — pretty ,
Though haply hers careless were — I followed
For my most serious decking . Had mine ear
Stol’n some new air , or at adventure hummed one
From musical coinage , 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 importment’s bastard — has this end ,
That the true love ’tween maid and maid may be
More than in sex individual .
And this high-speeded pace is but to say
That you shall never — like the maid Flavina —
Love any that’s called man .
[43]ACT 1. SC. 4
I must no more believe thee in this point —
Though in ’t I know thou dost believe thyself —
Than I will trust a sickly appetite ,
That loathes even as it longs . But sure , my sister ,
If I were ripe for your persuasion , 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 Pirithous , possess
The high throne in his heart .
Against your faith , yet I continue mine .
Scene 4
victor , accompanied by Lords and Soldiers .
Entering through another door , the three Queens
meet him , and fall on their faces before him .
Friend thee forever .
Be wished upon thy head , I cry ‘Amen’ to ’t !
View us their mortal herd , behold who err
And , in their time , chastise . Go and find out
The bones of your dead lords and honor them
With treble ceremony ; rather than a gap
Should be in their dear rites , we would supply ’t ;
[45] ACT 1. SC. 4 But those we will depute which shall invest
You in your dignities and even each thing
Our haste does leave imperfect . So , adieu ,
And heaven’s good eyes look on you .
and Arcite on biers .
What are those ?
By their appointment . Some of Thebes have told ’s
They are sisters’ children , nephews to the King .
Like to a pair of lions , smeared with prey ,
Make lanes in troops aghast . I fixed my note
Constantly on them , for they were a mark
Worth a god’s view . What prisoner was ’t that told me
When I enquired their names ?
Arcite and Palamon .
They are not dead ?
When their last hurts were given , ’twas possible
They might have been recovered . Yet they breathe
And have the name of men .
The very lees of such , millions of rates ,
Exceed the wine of others . All our surgeons
Convent in their behoof ; our richest balms ,
Rather than niggard , waste . Their lives concern us
Much more than Thebes is worth . Rather than have
’em
[47] ACT 1. SC. 5 Freed of this plight , and in their morning state ,
Sound and at liberty , I would ’em dead .
But forty-thousandfold 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’ behests ,
Love’s provocations , zeal , a mistress’ task ,
Desire of liberty , a fever , madness ,
Hath set a mark which nature could not reach to
Without some imposition , sickness in will
O’er-wrestling strength in reason . For our love
And great Apollo’s mercy , all our best
Their best skill tender . — Lead into the city ,
Where , having bound things scattered , we will post
To Athens ’fore our army .
Scene 5
knights , in a funeral solemnity , &c .
The dirge .
Vapors , sighs , darken the day ;
Our dole more deadly looks than dying ;
Balms and gums and heavy cheers ,
Sacred vials filled with tears ,
And clamors through the wild air flying .
Come , all sad and solemn shows
That are quick-eyed Pleasure’s foes ;
We convent naught else but woes .
We convent naught else but woes .
[49]ACT 1. SC. 5
Joy seize on you again ; peace sleep with him .
lend
A thousand differing ways to one sure end .
And death’s the market-place where each one meets .
[53]
ACT 2
Scene 1
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 lined than it can
appear to me report is a true speaker . I would I
were really that I am delivered to be . Marry , what
I have , be it what it will , I will assure upon my
daughter at the day of my death .
and I will estate your daughter in what I have
promised .
is past . But have you a full promise of her ?
When that shall be seen , I tender my consent .
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’ meantime ,
[55] ACT 2. SC. 1 look tenderly to the two prisoners . I can tell you
they are princes .
pity they are in prison , and ’twere pity they should
be out . I do think they have patience to make any
adversity ashamed . The prison itself is proud of
’em , and they have all the world in their chamber .
’em . They stand a grise above the reach of report .
only doers .
I marvel how they would have looked 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 .
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
sometimes a divided sigh , martyred 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 myself a sigh to be so chid , or at least
a sigher to be comforted .
and so did they .
What the reason of it is , I know not . Look , yonder
they are ; that’s Arcite looks out .
[57] ACT 2. SC. 2 lower of the twain ; you may perceive a part of
him .
make us their object . Out of their sight .
diff’rence of men !
Scene 2
And bear the chance of war ; yet we are prisoners
I fear forever , cousin .
And to that destiny have patiently
Laid up my hour to come .
Where is Thebes now ? Where is our noble country ?
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 favors of their ladies ,
Like tall ships under sail ; then start amongst ’em
And as an east wind leave ’em all behind us ,
Like lazy clouds , whilst Palamon and Arcite ,
Even in the wagging of a wanton leg ,
Outstripped the people’s praises , won the garlands
Ere they have time to wish ’em ours . O , never
Shall we two exercise , like twins of honor ,
Our arms again , and feel our fiery horses
[59] ACT 2. SC. 2 Like proud seas under us . Our good swords now —
Better the red-eyed god of war ne’er wore —
Ravished 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 lightning
To blast whole armies more .
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 , armed with thousand Cupids ,
Shall never clasp our necks ; no issue know us —
No figures of ourselves shall we e’er 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-eyed 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 tells 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 .
That shook the agèd forest with their echoes
No more now must we halloo ; no more shake
Our pointed javelins whilst the angry swine
Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages ,
Struck with our well-steeled darts . All valiant uses ,
The food and nourishment of noble minds ,
In us two here shall perish ; we shall die ,
[61] ACT 2. SC. 2 Which is the curse of honor , lastly ,
Children of grief and ignorance .
Even from the bottom of these miseries ,
From all that fortune can inflict upon us ,
I see two comforts rising , two mere 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 !
’Tis a main goodness , cousin , that our fortunes
Were twined together . ’Tis most true , two souls
Put in two noble bodies , let ’em suffer
The gall of hazard , so they grow together ,
Will never sink ; they must not , say they could .
A willing man dies sleeping and all’s done .
That all men hate so much ?
To keep us from corruption of worse men .
We are young and yet desire the ways of honor
That liberty and common conversation ,
The poison of pure spirits , might like women
Woo 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 another’s 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
[63] ACT 2. SC. 2 Is our inheritance ; no hard oppressor
Dare take this from us ; here with a little patience
We shall live long and loving . No surfeits seek us ;
The hand of war hurts none here , nor the seas
Swallow their youth . Were we at liberty ,
A wife might part us lawfully , or business ;
Quarrels consume us ; envy of ill men
Crave our acquaintance . I might sicken , cousin ,
Where you should never know it , and so perish
Without your noble hand to close mine eyes ,
Or prayers to the gods . A thousand chances ,
Were we from hence , would sever us .
me —
I thank you , cousin Arcite — almost wanton
With my captivity . What a misery
It is to live abroad and everywhere !
’Tis like a beast , methinks . I find the court here ,
I am sure , a more content ; and all those pleasures
That woo the wills of men to vanity
I see through now , and am sufficient
To tell the world ’tis but a gaudy shadow
That old Time as he passes by takes with him .
What had we been , old in the court of Creon ,
Where sin is justice , lust and ignorance
The virtues of the great ones ? Cousin Arcite ,
Had not the loving gods found this place for us ,
We had died as they do , ill old men , unwept ,
And had their epitaphs , the people’s curses .
Shall I say more ?
Is there record of any two that loved
Better than we do , Arcite ?
[65]ACT 2. SC. 2
Should ever leave us .
And after death our spirits shall be led
To those that love eternally .
of Emilia .
Speak on , sir .
What flower is this ?
To love himself . Were there not maids enough ?
But take heed to your kindness , though .
madam ?
cousin ?
[67]ACT 2. SC. 2
This is pretty color . Will ’t not do
Rarely upon a skirt , wench ?
By heaven , she is a goddess .
She is a goddess , Arcite .
Methinks a rose is best .
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 .
Sometimes her modesty will blow so far
She falls for ’t . A maid ,
If she have any honor , would be loath
To take example by her .
[69]ACT 2. SC. 2
flowers .
We’ll see how near art can come near their colors .
I am wondrous merry-hearted . I could laugh now .
Beshrew mine eyes for ’t ! Now I feel my shackles .
[71]ACT 2. SC. 2
As she is heavenly and a blessèd goddess .
I love her as a woman , to enjoy her .
So both may love .
First with mine eye of all those beauties
In her revealed 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 , blood ,
And all the ties between us I disclaim
If thou once think upon her .
And , if the lives of all my name lay on it ,
I must do so . I love her with my soul .
If that will lose you , farewell , Palamon .
I say again , I love , and in loving her maintain
I am as worthy and as free a lover
And have as just a title to her beauty
As any Palamon or any living
That is a man’s son .
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 .
[73]ACT 2. SC. 2
Those joys , griefs , angers , fears , my friend shall
suffer ?
So strangely , so unlike a noble kinsman ,
To love alone ? Speak truly , do you think me
Unworthy of her sight ?
If thou pursue that sight .
First sees the enemy , shall I stand still
And let mine honor down , and never charge ?
Had rather combat me ?
And use thy freedom . Else , if thou pursuest her ,
Be as that cursèd man that hates his country ,
A branded villain .
Till thou art worthy , Arcite , it concerns me .
And in this madness if I hazard thee
And take thy life , I deal but truly .
You play the child extremely . I will love her ;
I must , I ought to do so , and I dare ,
And all this justly .
Thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune
To be one hour at liberty , and grasp
Our good swords in our hands , I would quickly
teach thee
[75] ACT 2. SC. 2 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 .
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 .
To knock thy brains out with my shackles .
The cause I know not yet .
Of your fair cousin’s company .
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 fair ,
Let honest men ne’er love again . Once more
I would but see this fair one . Blessèd garden
[77] ACT 2. SC. 2 And fruit and flowers more blessèd that still
blossom
As her bright eyes shine on you , 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 am sure she would love me . — How now ,
keeper ,
Where’s Arcite ?
Obtained his liberty , but never more
Upon his oath and life must he set foot
Upon this kingdom .
He shall see Thebes again , and call to arms
The bold young men that , when he bids ’em charge ,
Fall on like fire . Arcite shall have a fortune ,
If he dare make himself a worthy lover ,
Yet in the field to strike a battle for her ,
And , if he lose her then , he’s a cold coward .
How bravely may he bear himself to win her
If he be noble Arcite — thousand ways !
Were I at liberty , I would do things
Of such a virtuous greatness that this lady ,
This blushing virgin , should take manhood to her
And seek to ravish me .
I have this charge to —
[79]ACT 2. SC. 2
The windows are too open .
That are so envious to me ! Prithee , kill me .
Had I a sword I would kill thee .
Thou art not worthy life . I will not go .
dangerous ,
I’ll clap more irons on you .
I’ll shake ’em so , you shall not sleep ;
I’ll make you a new morris . Must I go ?
May rude wind never hurt thee . O , my lady ,
If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was ,
Dream how I suffer . — Come ; now bury me .
[81]ACT 2. SC. 3
Scene 3
A mercy I must thank ’em for ; but banished
The free enjoying of that face I die for ,
O , ’twas a studied 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 ne’er exceeded nor ne’er shall .
Good gods , what happiness has Palamon !
Twenty to one he’ll come to speak to her ,
And if she be as gentle as she’s fair ,
I know she’s his . He has a tongue will tame
Tempests and make the wild rocks wanton .
Come what can come ,
The worst is death . I will not leave the kingdom .
I know mine own is but a heap of ruins ,
And no redress there . If I go , he has her .
I am resolved another shape shall make me
Or end my fortunes . Either way I am happy .
I’ll see her and be near her , or no more .
a garland before them .
certain .
[83]ACT 2. SC. 3
’Tis but a chiding . Let the plough play today ; I’ll
tickle ’t out of the jades’ tails tomorrow .
as a turkey , but that’s all one . I’ll go through ;
let her mumble .
and stow her , and all’s made up again .
and you shall see her take a new lesson out and be
a good wench . Do we all hold against the Maying ?
three better lads ne’er danced under green tree .
And you know what wenches , ha ! But will the
dainty domine , the Schoolmaster , keep touch , do
you think ? For he does all , you know .
Go to , the matter’s too far driven between him and
the tanner’s daughter to let slip now ; and she must
see the Duke , and she must dance too .
i’ th’ breech on ’s . And here I’ll be and there I’ll be ,
for our town , and here again , and there again . Ha ,
boys , hey for the weavers !
says so — where he himself will edify the Duke
most parlously in our behalfs . He’s excellent i’ th’
woods ; bring him to th’ plains , his learning makes
no cry .
[85]ACT 2. SC. 3
man to ’s tackle . And , sweet companions , let’s rehearse ,
by any means , before the ladies see us , and
do sweetly , and God knows what may come on ’t .
we’ll perform . Away , boys , and hold .
whither go you ?
Why , what a question’s that ?
To me that know not .
Are there such games today ?
And such as you never saw . The Duke himself
Will be in person there .
Take your own time . — Come , boys .
me . This fellow has a vengeance trick o’ th’
hip . Mark how his body’s made for ’t .
hanged , though , if he dare venture . Hang him ,
plum porridge ! He wrestle ? He roast eggs ! Come ,
let’s be gone , lads .
[87]ACT 2. SC. 4
I durst not wish for . Well I could have wrestled —
The best men called it excellent — and run
Swifter than wind upon a field of corn ,
Curling the wealthy ears , never flew . I’ll venture ,
And in some poor disguise 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 ?
Scene 4
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 witless . 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 looked on . Next , I pitied him ,
And so would any young wench , o’ my conscience ,
That ever dreamed , or vowed her maidenhead
To a young handsome man . Then I loved him ,
Extremely loved him , infinitely loved him !
And yet he had a cousin , fair as he too .
But in my heart was Palamon , and there ,
Lord , what a coil he keeps ! To hear him
Sing in an evening , what a heaven it is !
[89] ACT 2. SC. 5 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 maid , good morrow . May thy goodness
Get thee a happy husband .’ Once he kissed me ;
I loved my lips the better ten days after .
Would he would do so ev’ry day ! He grieves much —
And me as much to see his misery .
What should I do to make him know I love him ?
For I would fain enjoy him . Say I ventured
To set him free ? What says the law then ?
Thus much for law or kindred ! I will do it ,
And this night , or tomorrow , he shall love me .
Scene 5
in disguise , with a garland , Attendants , and others .
Since Hercules , a man of tougher sinews .
Whate’er you are , you run the best and wrestle
That these times can allow .
And to those gentle uses gave me life .
[91]ACT 2. SC. 5
Sure , is a happy sire , then . What proves you ?
I could have kept a hawk and well have hallowed
To a deep cry of dogs . I dare not praise
My feat in horsemanship , yet they that knew me
Would say it was my best piece . Last , and greatest ,
I would be thought a soldier .
I have not seen so young a man so noble ,
If he say true , of his sort .
His mother was a wondrous handsome woman ;
His face , methinks , goes that way .
And fiery mind illustrate a brave father .
Breaks through his baser garments .
To purchase name and do my ablest service
To such a well-found wonder as thy worth ;
[93] ACT 2. SC. 5 For only in thy court , of all the world ,
Dwells fair-eyed Honor .
Nor shall you lose your wish . — Pirithous ,
Dispose of this fair gentleman .
Whate’er you are , you’re mine , and I shall give you
To a most noble service : to this lady ,
This bright young virgin .
Pray observe her goodness ;
You have honored her fair birthday with your
virtues ,
And , as your due , you’re hers . Kiss her fair hand , sir .
Thus let me seal my vowed faith .
When your servant ,
Your most unworthy creature , but offends you ,
Command him die , he shall .
If you deserve well , sir , I shall soon see ’t .
You’re mine , and somewhat better than your rank
I’ll use you .
You are a horseman , I must needs entreat you
This afternoon to ride — but ’tis a rough one .
Freeze in my saddle .
And you , Emilia , — and you , friend , — and all ,
[95] ACT 2. SC. 6 Tomorrow by the sun , to do observance
To flowery May in Dian’s wood . — Wait well , sir ,
Upon your mistress . — Emily , I hope
He shall not go afoot .
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 mistress .
Let me find that my father ever hated ,
Disgrace and blows .
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 .
Scene 6
He is at liberty . I have ventured 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 files and food , for yet
His iron bracelets are not off . O Love ,
What a stout-hearted child thou art ! My father
Durst better have endured cold iron than done it .
[97] ACT 2. SC. 6 I love him beyond love and beyond reason
Or wit or safety . I have made him know it ;
I care not , I am desperate . If the law
Find me and then condemn 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 do , maids will not so easily
Trust men again . And yet he has not thanked me
For what I have done ; no , not so much as kissed me ,
And that , methinks , is not so well ; nor scarcely
Could I persuade him to become a free man ,
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 do
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 clothes 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 hubbub
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 yourself . Now to him .
[101]
ACT 3
Scene 1
as people a-Maying .
A several laund . This is a solemn rite
They owe bloomed May , and the Athenians pay it
To th’ heart of ceremony . O Queen Emilia ,
Fresher than May , sweeter
Than her gold buttons on the boughs , or all
Th’ enameled knacks o’ th’ mead or garden — yea ,
We challenge too the bank of any nymph
That makes the stream seem flowers ; thou , O jewel
O’ th’ wood , o’ th’ world , hast likewise blessed a pace
With thy sole presence . In thy rumination
That I , poor man , might eftsoons come between
And chop on some cold thought ! Thrice blessèd
chance
To drop on such a mistress , expectation
Most guiltless on ’t . Tell me , O Lady Fortune ,
Next after Emily 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
[103] ACT 3. SC. 1 Be by a pair of kings backed , in a field
That their crowns’ titles tried . Alas , alas ,
Poor cousin Palamon , poor prisoner , thou
So little dream’st upon my fortune that
Thou think’st thyself the happier thing , to be
So near Emilia ; me thou deem’st at Thebes ,
And therein wretched , although free . But if
Thou knew’st my mistress breathed on me , and that
I eared her language , lived in her eye — O coz ,
What passion would enclose thee !
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 confessed traitor , O thou most perfidious
That ever gently looked , the void’st of honor
That e’er bore gentle token , falsest cousin
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 liest , and art
A very thief in love , a chaffy lord ,
Nor worth the name of villain . Had I a sword ,
And these house clogs away —
As thou hast showed me feat .
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 ,
[105] ACT 3. SC. 1 Cannot to me be kind . Honor and honesty
I cherish and depend on , howsoe’er
You skip them in me , and with them , fair coz ,
I’ll maintain my proceedings . Pray be pleased
To show in generous terms your griefs , since that
Your question’s with your equal , who professes
To clear his own way with the mind and sword
Of a true gentleman .
How much I dare ; you’ve 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 .
I have seen you move in such a place which well
Might justify your manhood ; you were called
A good knight and a bold . But the whole week’s not
fair
If any day it rain ; their valiant temper
Men lose when they incline to treachery ,
And then they fight like compelled bears — would fly
Were they not tied .
Speak this and act it in your glass as to
His ear which now disdains you .
Quit me of these cold gyves , give me a sword
Though it be rusty , and the charity
Of one meal lend me . Come before me then ,
A good sword in thy hand , and do 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 died manly , which will seek of me
[107] ACT 3. SC. 1 Some news from Earth , they shall get none but this :
That thou art brave and noble .
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 yourself and say but ‘Arcite ,
I am in plight ,’ there shall be at your choice
Both sword and armor .
So noble bear a guilty business ? None
But only Arcite . Therefore none but Arcite
In this kind is so bold .
Your offer do ’t I only . Sir , your person
Without hypocrisy I may not wish
More than my sword’s edge on ’t .
Enter your muset , lest this match between ’s
Be crossed ere met . Give me your hand ; farewell .
I’ll bring you every needful thing . I pray you ,
Take comfort and be strong .
And do the deed with a bent brow . Most certain
You love me not ; be rough with me , and pour
This oil out of your language . By this air ,
I could for each word give a cuff , my stomach
Not reconciled by reason .
Yet pardon me hard language . When I spur
My horse , I chide him not ; content and anger
[109] ACT 3. SC. 2 In me have but one face .
Hark , sir , they call
The scattered to the banquet ; you must guess
I have an office there .
Cannot please heaven , and I know your office
Unjustly is achieved .
I am persuaded this question , sick between ’s ,
By bleeding must be cured . I am a suitor
That to your sword you will bequeath this plea ,
And talk of it no more .
You are going now to gaze upon my mistress ,
For note you , mine she is —
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 .
Scene 2
After his fancy . ’Tis now well-nigh morning .
No matter ; would it were perpetual 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 reck not if the wolves would jaw me , so
[111] ACT 3. SC. 2 He had this file . What if I hallowed for him ?
I cannot hallow . If I whooped , what then ?
If he not answered , I should call a wolf ,
And do him but that service . I have heard
Strange howls this livelong night ; why may ’t not be
They have made prey of him ? He has no weapons ;
He cannot run ; the jingling of his gyves
Might call fell things to listen , who have in them
A sense to know a man unarmed and can
Smell where resistance is . I’ll set it down
He’s torn to pieces ; they howled many together ,
And then they fed on him ; so much for that .
Be bold to ring the bell . How stand I then ?
All’s chared when he is gone . No , no , I lie .
My father’s to be hanged for his escape ;
Myself to beg , if I prized life so much
As to deny my act , but that I would not ,
Should I try death by dozens . I am moped ;
Food took I none these two days ;
Sipped some water . I have not closed mine eyes
Save when my lids scoured off their brine . Alas ,
Dissolve , my life ! Let not my sense unsettle ,
Lest I should drown , or stab , or hang myself .
O state of nature , fail together in me ,
Since thy best props are warped ! So , which way now ?
The best way is the next way to a grave ;
Each errant step beside is torment . Lo ,
The moon is down , the crickets chirp , the screech
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 .
[113]ACT 3. SC. 3
Scene 3
Come forth and fear not ; here’s no Theseus .
We’ll argue that hereafter . Come , take courage ;
You shall not die thus beastly . Here , sir , drink —
I know you are faint — then I’ll talk further with you .
But I must fear you first . Sit down and , good now ,
No more of these vain parleys . Let us not ,
Having our ancient reputation with us ,
Make talk for fools and cowards . To your health .
By all the honesty and honor in you ,
No mention of this woman ; ’twill disturb us .
We shall have time enough .
[115]ACT 3. SC. 3
man .
Do not you feel it thaw you ?
After a draught or two more .
The Duke has more , coz . Eat now .
You have so good a stomach .
I have so good meat to ’t .
Here in the wild woods , cousin ?
That have wild consciences .
victuals ?
Your hunger needs no sauce , I see .
But if it did , yours is too tart , sweet cousin .
What is this ?
Give me more wine . Here , Arcite , to the wenches
We have known in our days !
The Lord Steward’s
daughter !
Do you remember her ?
[117]ACT 3. SC. 3
What did she there , coz ? Play o’ th’ virginals ?
for ’t —
Or two , or three , or ten .
Had her share , too , as I remember , cousin ,
Else there be tales abroad . You’ll pledge her ?
When young men went a-hunting , and a wood ,
And a broad beech — and thereby hangs a tale .
Heigh ho !
Away with this strained mirth . I say again
That sigh was breathed for Emily . Base cousin ,
Dar’st thou break first ?
Earth ,
There’s nothing in thee honest .
You are a beast now .
perfumes .
[119] ACT 3. SC. 4 I’ll come again some two hours hence and bring
That that shall quiet all .
Get off your trinkets ; you shall want naught .
Scene 4
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 !
Open her before the wind ; you’ll lose all else .
Up with a course or two , and tack about , boys !
Good night , good night ; you’re gone . I am 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 carrack of a cockleshell , and sail
By east and northeast to the king of pygmies ,
For he tells fortunes rarely . Now my father ,
[121] ACT 3. SC. 5 Twenty to one , is trussed up in a trice
Tomorrow morning . I’ll say never a word .
For I’ll cut my green coat a foot above my knee ,
And I’ll clip my yellow locks an inch below mine
eye .
Hey nonny , nonny , nonny .
He’s buy me a white cut , forth for to ride ,
And I’ll go seek him through the world that is so
wide .
Hey nonny , nonny , nonny .
O , for a prick now , like a nightingale ,
To put my breast against . I shall sleep like a top else .
Scene 5
one dressed as a Bavian .
is here among you ! Have my rudiments been labored
so long with you , milked unto you , and , by a
figure , even the very plum broth and marrow of
my understanding laid upon you , and do you still
cry ‘Where ?’ and ‘How ?’ and ‘Wherefore ?’ You
most coarse-frieze capacities , you jean judgments ,
have I said ‘Thus let be’ and ‘There let be’
and ‘Then let be’ and no man understand me ? Proh
deum , medius fidius , you are all dunces ! Forwhy ,
here stand I ; here the Duke comes ; there are you ,
close in the thicket ; the Duke appears ; I meet him
and unto him I utter learnèd things and many figures ;
he hears , and nods , and hums , and then cries
‘Rare !’ and I go forward . At length I fling my cap
up — mark there ! Then do you as once did Meleager
[123] ACT 3. SC. 5 and the boar — break comely out before him ;
like true lovers , cast yourselves in a body decently ,
and sweetly , by a figure , trace and turn , boys .
Gerald .
the taborer ?
legs , and bouncing Barbary .
her master .
with your bodies , and carry it sweetly and deliverly ,
and now and then a favor and a frisk .
Where’s the Bavian ? — My friend , carry your tail
without offense or scandal to the ladies ; and be
sure you tumble with audacity and manhood , and
when you bark , do it with judgment .
wanting .
th’ fire .
[125] ACT 3. SC. 5 washed a tile ; we have been fatuus and labored
vainly .
scurvy hilding that gave her promise faithfully she
would be here — Cicely , the sempster’s daughter .
The next gloves that I give her shall be dogskin ;
nay , an she fail me once — you can tell , Arcas , she
swore by wine and bread she would not break .
says , unless by th’ tail and with thy teeth thou hold ,
will either fail . In manners , this was false
position .
now ?
nullity , yea , and a woeful and a piteous nullity .
lay on it , now to be frampold , now to piss o’ th’
nettle ! Go thy ways ; I’ll remember thee . I’ll fit
thee !
From the coast of Barbary-a ,
And there he met with brave gallants of war ,
By one , by two , by three-a .
‘Well hailed , well hailed , you jolly gallants ,
And whither now are you bound-a ?
O , let me have your company
Till I come to the sound-a .’
There was three fools , fell out about an owlet —
The other he said nay ,
[127] ACT 3. SC. 5 The third he said it was a hawk ,
And her bells were cut away .
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 .
good woman ?
hand . You are a fool . Tell ten . — I have posed him .
Buzz ! — Friend , you must eat no white bread ; if
you do , your teeth will bleed extremely . Shall we
dance , ho ? I know you , you’re a tinker . Sirrah tinker ,
stop no more holes but what you should .
him play Chi passa o’ th’ bells and bones .
to a peace . Et opus exegi , quod nec Iovis ira , nec
ignis . Strike up , and lead her in .
Away , boys ! I hear the horns . Give me some
meditation , and mark your cue .
Pallas , inspire me !
[129]ACT 3. SC. 5
will ‘edify .’
Ladies , sit down . We’ll stay it .
We are a few of those collected here
That ruder tongues distinguish ‘villager .’
And to say verity , and not to fable ,
We are a merry rout , or else a rabble ,
Or company , or by a figure , chorus ,
That ’fore thy dignity 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 ,
Do here present this machine , or this frame .
And , dainty duke , whose doughty dismal fame
From Dis to Daedalus , from post to pillar ,
Is blown abroad , help me , thy poor well-willer ,
And with thy twinkling eyes look right and straight
Upon this mighty ‘Morr ,’ of mickle weight —
‘Is’ now comes in , which being glued 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
[131] ACT 3. SC. 5 And his fat Spouse , that welcomes to their cost
The gallèd traveler , and with a beck’ning
Informs the tapster to inflame the reck’ning ;
Then the beest-eating Clown ; and next the Fool ,
The Bavian with long tail and eke long tool ,
Cum multis aliis that make a dance ;
Say ‘ay ,’ and all shall presently advance .
Jailer’s Daughter ; they perform a morris dance .
And have pleased ye with a derry ,
And a derry and a down ,
Say the Schoolmaster’s no clown . —
Duke , if we have pleased thee too
And have done as good boys should do ,
Give us but a tree or twain
For a Maypole , and again ,
Ere another year run out ,
We’ll make thee laugh , and all this rout .
And , for a preface , I never heard a better .
rewarded .
[133]ACT 3. SC. 6
And thy dogs be swift and strong ;
May they kill him without lets ,
And the ladies eat his dowsets .
Emilia , Pirithous , and Train exit .
Come , we are all made . Dii deaeque omnes ,
You have danced rarely , wenches .
Scene 6
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 restored
My lost strength to me , I was grown so low
And crestfall’n with my wants . I thank thee , Arcite ,
Thou art yet a fair foe , and I feel myself ,
With this refreshing , able once again
To outdure 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 ,
[135] ACT 3. SC. 6 If it but hold , I kill him with . ’Tis justice .
So , love and fortune for me !
O , good morrow .
To too much pains , sir .
Is but a debt to honor and my duty .
As kind a kinsman as you force me find
A beneficial foe , that my embraces
Might thank you , not my blows .
Well done , a noble recompense .
More than a mistress to me . No more anger ,
As you love anything that’s honorable !
We were not bred to talk , man ; when we are armed
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
Truly pertains — without upbraidings , scorns ,
Despisings of our persons , and such poutings ,
Fitter for girls and schoolboys — will be seen ,
And quickly , yours or mine . Will ’t please you arm ,
sir ?
Or if you feel yourself not fitting yet
And furnished with your old strength , I’ll stay ,
cousin ,
And ev’ry day discourse you into health ,
[137] ACT 3. SC. 6 As I am spared . Your person I am friends with ,
And I could wish I had not said I loved her ,
Though I had died . But loving such a lady ,
And justifying my love , I must not fly from ’t .
That no man but thy cousin’s fit to kill thee .
I am well and lusty . Choose your arms .
To make me spare thee ?
You are deceived , for as I am a soldier ,
I will not spare you .
With all the justice of affection ,
I’ll pay thee soundly .
This I’ll take .
I’ll arm you first .
Pray thee tell me , cousin ,
Where got’st thou this good armor ?
And to say true , I stole it . Do I pinch you ?
But I shall make it serve .
[139]ACT 3. SC. 6
You would fain be at that fight .
Through far enough .
Prithee take mine , good cousin .
How do I look ? Am I fall’n much away ?
I’ll give you cause , sweet cousin .
Methinks this armor’s very like that , Arcite ,
Thou wor’st that day the three kings fell , but lighter .
I well remember , you outdid me , cousin .
I never saw such valor . When you charged
Upon the left wing of the enemy ,
[141] ACT 3. SC. 6 I spurred hard to come up , and under me
I had a right good horse .
A bright bay , I remember .
Was vainly labored in me ; you outwent me ,
Nor could my wishes reach you ; yet a little
I did by imitation .
You are modest , cousin .
Methought I heard a dreadful clap of thunder
Break from the troop .
The lightning of your valor . Stay a little ;
Is not this piece too strait ?
A bruise would be dishonor .
Here’s one ; if it but hold , I ask no more
For all my hopes . My cause and honor guard me !
Is there aught else to say ?
And that blood we desire to shed is mutual —
In me thine , and in thee mine . My sword
[143] ACT 3. SC. 6 Is in my hand , and if thou kill’st me ,
The gods and I forgive thee . If there be
A place prepared for those that sleep in honor ,
I wish his weary soul that falls may win it .
Fight bravely , cousin . Give me thy noble hand .
Come near thee with such friendship .
For none but such dare die in these just trials .
Once more farewell , my cousin .
If we be found , we are wretched . O , retire ,
For honor’s sake , and safely , presently
Into your bush again . Sir , we shall find
Too many hours to die in . Gentle cousin ,
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 .
I will no more be hidden , nor put off
This great adventure to a second trial .
I know your cunning , and I know your cause .
He that faints now , shame take him ! Put thyself
Upon thy present guard —
[145]ACT 3. SC. 6
Mine own , and what to come shall threaten me
I fear less than my fortune . Know , weak cousin ,
I love Emilia , and in that I’ll bury
Thee and all crosses else .
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 !
Pirithous and train .
Are you , that ’gainst the tenor of my laws
Are making battle , thus like knights appointed ,
Without my leave and officers of arms ?
By Castor , both shall die .
We are certainly both traitors , both despisers
Of thee and of thy goodness . I am Palamon ,
That cannot love thee , he that broke thy prison .
Think well what that deserves . And this is Arcite .
A bolder traitor never trod thy ground ,
A falser ne’er seemed friend . This is the man
Was begged and banished ; this is he contemns thee
And what thou dar’st do ; and in this disguise ,
Against thine 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
[147] ACT 3. SC. 6 I am ; and , which is more , dares think her his .
This treachery , like a most trusty lover ,
I called 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 ,
Do such a justice thou thyself wilt envy .
Then take my life ; I’ll woo thee to ’t .
What more than man is this !
Thy breath of mercy , Theseus . ’Tis to me
A thing as soon to die as thee to say it ,
And no more moved . Where this man calls me
traitor ,
Let me say thus much : if in love be treason ,
In service of so excellent a beauty ,
As I love most , and in that faith will perish ,
As I have brought my life here to confirm it ,
As I have served her truest , worthiest ,
As I dare kill this cousin that denies it ,
So let me be most traitor , and you please me .
For scorning thy edict , duke , ask that lady
Why she is fair , and why her eyes command me
Stay here to love her ; and if she say ‘traitor ,’
I am a villain fit to lie unburied .
If unto neither thou show mercy . Stop ,
As thou art just , thy noble ear against us ;
As thou art valiant , for thy cousin’s soul ,
Whose twelve 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 .
[149]ACT 3. SC. 6
Has ten times more offended , for I gave him
More mercy than you found , sir , your offenses
Being no more than his . — None here speak for ’em ,
For ere the sun set both shall sleep forever .
Speak not to be denied . That face of yours
Will bear the curses else of after ages
For these lost cousins .
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 pity ,
My knees shall grow to th’ ground but I’ll get mercy .
Help me , dear sister ; in a deed so virtuous ,
The powers of all women will be with us .
Most royal brother —
That fair hand , and that honest heart you gave me —
By your own virtues infinite —
By all the chaste nights I have ever pleased you —
[151] ACT 3. SC. 6 By all our friendship , sir , by all our dangers ;
By all you love most , wars and this sweet lady —
A blushing maid —
In which you swore I went beyond all women ,
Almost all men , and yet I yielded , Theseus —
Which cannot want due mercy , I beg first —
Compassion to ’em both , how would you place it ?
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’d fight about you , hourly bring your honor
In public question with their swords . Be wise , then ,
And here forget ’em ; it concerns your credit
And my oath equally . I have said they die .
[153] ACT 3. SC. 6 Better they fall by th’ law than one another .
Bow not my honor .
That oath was rashly made , and in your anger ;
Your reason will not hold it . If such vows
Stand for express will , all the world must perish .
Besides , I have another oath ’gainst yours ,
Of more authority , I am sure more love ,
Not made in passion neither , but good heed .
Fit for my modest suit and your free granting .
I tie you to your word now ; if you fail in ’t ,
Think how you maim your honor —
For now I am set a-begging , sir , I am deaf
To all but your compassion — how their lives
Might breed the ruin of my name . Opinion !
Shall anything that loves me perish for me ?
That were a cruel wisdom . Do men prune
The straight young boughs that blush with thousand
blossoms
Because they may be rotten ? O , Duke Theseus ,
The goodly mothers that have groaned for these ,
And all the longing maids that ever loved ,
If your vow stand , shall curse me and my beauty ,
And in their funeral songs for these two cousins
Despise my cruelty , and cry woe worth me ,
Till I am nothing but the scorn of women .
For heaven’s sake , save their lives , and banish ’em .
To make me their contention , or to know me ,
[155] ACT 3. SC. 6 To tread upon thy dukedom , and to be ,
Wherever they shall travel , ever strangers
To one another .
Before I take this oath ! Forget I love her ?
O , all you gods , despise 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 cousin
On any piece the Earth has .
Take these conditions ?
To take my life so basely ; though I think
I never shall enjoy her , yet I’ll preserve
The honor of affection , and die for her ,
Make death a devil !
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 ?
Must die then .
[157]ACT 3. SC. 6
And lovers yet unborn shall bless my ashes .
And soldiers sing my epitaph .
For me , a hair shall never fall of these men .
And , by mine honor , once again , it stands ,
Or both shall die : you shall both to your country ,
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 cousin
By fair and knightly strength to touch the pillar ,
He shall enjoy her ; the other lose his head ,
And all his friends ; nor shall he grudge to fall ,
Nor think he dies with interest in this lady .
Will this content you ?
I am friends again till that hour .
Else both miscarry .
[159] ACT 3. SC. 6 And take heed , as you are gentlemen , this quarrel
Sleep till the hour prefixed , and hold your course .
Now usage like to princes and to friends .
When you return , who wins I’ll settle here ;
Who loses , yet I’ll weep upon his bier .
[163]
ACT 4
Scene 1
Concerning the escape of Palamon ?
Good sir , remember !
For I came home before the business
Was fully ended . Yet I might perceive ,
Ere I departed , a great likelihood
Of both their pardons ; for Hippolyta
And fair-eyed Emily , upon their knees ,
Begged with such handsome pity that the Duke ,
Methought , stood staggering whether he should
follow
His rash oath or the sweet compassion
Of those two ladies . And , to second them ,
That truly noble prince , Pirithous —
Half his own heart — set in too , that I hope
All shall be well . Neither heard I one question
Of your name or his ’scape .
[165]ACT 4. SC. 1
Good news .
you
And got your pardon , and discovered how
And by whose means he escaped , which was your
daughter’s ,
Whose pardon is procured too ; and the prisoner ,
Not to be held ungrateful to her goodness ,
Has given a sum of money to her marriage —
A large one , I’ll assure you .
And ever bring good news .
But they prevailed had their suits fairly granted ;
The prisoners have their lives .
At better time .
honorable ;
How good they’ll prove I know not .
[167]ACT 4. SC. 1
Sir , when did she sleep ?
You make me mind her ; but this very day
I asked her questions , and she answered me
So far from what she was , so childishly ,
So sillily , as if she were a fool ,
An innocent , and I was very angry .
But what of her , sir ?
But you must know it , and as good by me
As by another that less loves her .
What you told me . The gods comfort her !
Either this was her love to Palamon ,
Or fear of my miscarrying on his ’scape ,
Or both .
[169] ACT 4. SC. 1 In the great lake that lies behind the palace ,
From the far shore — thick set with reeds and
sedges —
As patiently I was attending sport ,
I heard a voice , a shrill one ; and , attentive ,
I gave my ear , when I might well perceive
’Twas one that sung , and by the smallness of it
A boy or woman . I then left my angle
To his own skill , came near , but yet perceived not
Who made the sound , the rushes and the reeds
Had so encompassed it . I laid me down
And listened to the words she sung , for then ,
Through a small glade cut by the fishermen ,
I saw it was your daughter .
Repeat this often : ‘Palamon is gone ,
Is gone to th’ wood to gather mulberries ;
I’ll find him out tomorrow .’
And what shall I do then ? I’ll bring a bevy ,
A hundred black-eyed maids that love as I do ,
With chaplets on their heads of daffadillies ,
With cherry lips and cheeks of damask roses ,
And all we’ll dance an antic ’fore the Duke ,
And beg his pardon .’ Then she talked of you , sir —
That you must lose your head tomorrow morning ,
And she must gather flowers to bury you ,
And see the house made handsome . Then she sung
Nothing but ‘Willow , willow , willow ,’ and between
Ever was ‘Palamon , fair Palamon ,’
And ‘Palamon was a tall young man .’ The place
Was knee-deep where she sat ; her careless tresses ,
[171] ACT 4. SC. 1 A wreath of bulrush rounded ; about her stuck
Thousand freshwater flowers of several colors ,
That methought she appeared like the fair nymph
That feeds the lake with waters , or as Iris
Newly dropped down from heaven . Rings she made
Of rushes that grew by , and to ’em spoke
The prettiest posies : ‘Thus our true love’s tied ,’
‘This you may lose , not me ,’ and many a one ;
And then she wept , and sung again , and sighed ,
And with the same breath smiled and kissed her
hand .
She saw me , and straight sought the flood . I saved
her
And set her safe to land , when presently
She slipped away , and to the city made
With such a cry and swiftness that , believe me ,
She left me far behind her . Three or four
I saw from far off cross her — one of ’em
I knew to be your brother — where she stayed
And fell , scarce to be got away . I left them with her
And hither came to tell you .
Here they are .
Is not this a fine song ?
and Bonny Robin . Are not you a tailor ?
[173]ACT 4. SC. 1
call the maids and pay the minstrels , for I must
lose my maidenhead by cocklight . ’Twill never
thrive else .
hear of one young Palamon ?
is then distempered far worse than now she
shows .
for a trick that I know ; you’d best look to her , for
if she see him once , she’s gone , she’s done and
undone in an hour . All the young maids of our
town are in love with him , but I laugh at ’em and
let ’em all alone . Is ’t not a wise course ?
child by him — there must be four ; yet I keep close
for all this , close as a cockle ; and all these must be
boys — he has the trick on ’t — and at ten years old
they must be all gelt for musicians and sing the
wars of Theseus .
[175]ACT 4. SC. 1
to him ; I’ll warrant you , he had not so few last
night as twenty to dispatch . He’ll tickle ’t up in two
hours , if his hand be in .
man .
course to th’ wood , where Palamon lies longing for
me . For the tackling , let me alone . — Come , weigh ,
my hearts , cheerly .
The wind’s fair ! — Top the bowline ! — Out with the
main sail ! Where’s your whistle , master ?
When Cynthia with her borrowed light , etc.
[177]ACT 4. SC. 2
Scene 2
And bleed to death for my sake else . I’ll choose ,
And end their strife . Two such young handsome men
Shall never fall for me ; their weeping mothers ,
Following the dead cold ashes of their sons ,
Shall never curse my cruelty .
Good heaven ,
What a sweet face has Arcite ! If wise Nature ,
With all her best endowments , all those beauties
She sows into the births of noble bodies ,
Were here a mortal woman , and had in her
The coy denials of young maids , yet doubtless
She would run mad for this man . What an eye ,
Of what a fiery sparkle and quick sweetness ,
Has this young prince ! Here Love himself sits
smiling ;
Just such another wanton Ganymede
Set Jove afire with , and enforced the god
Snatch up the goodly boy and set him by him ,
A shining constellation . What a brow ,
Of what a spacious majesty , he carries ,
Arched like the great-eyed Juno’s but far sweeter ,
Smoother than Pelops’ shoulder ! Fame and Honor ,
Methinks , from hence as from a promontory
Pointed in heaven , should clap their wings and sing
To all the under world the loves and fights
Of gods and such men near ’em .
Palamon
Is but his foil , to him a mere dull shadow ;
He’s swart and meager , of an eye as heavy
[179] ACT 4. SC. 2 As if he had lost his mother ; a still temper ,
No stirring in him , no alacrity ;
Of all this sprightly sharpness not a smile .
Yet these that we count errors may become him ;
Narcissus was a sad boy but a heavenly .
O , who can find the bent of woman’s fancy ?
I am a fool ; my reason is lost in me ;
I have no choice , and I have lied so lewdly
That women ought to beat me . On my knees
I ask thy pardon : Palamon , thou art alone
And only beautiful , and these the eyes ,
These the bright lamps of beauty , that command
And threaten love , and what young maid dare cross
’em ?
What a bold gravity , and yet inviting ,
Has this brown manly face ! O Love , this only
From this hour is complexion . Lie there , Arcite .
Thou art a changeling to him , a mere gypsy ,
And this the noble body . I am sotted ,
Utterly lost . My virgin’s faith has fled me .
For if my brother but even now had asked me
Whether I loved , I had run mad for Arcite .
Now , if my sister , more for Palamon .
Stand both together . Now , come ask me , brother .
Alas , I know not ! Ask me now , sweet sister .
I may go look ! What a mere child is Fancy ,
That , having two fair gauds of equal sweetness ,
Cannot distinguish , but must cry for both .
How now , sir ?
Madam , I bring you news : the knights are come .
[181]ACT 4. SC. 2
What sins have I committed , chaste Diana ,
That my unspotted youth must now be soiled
With blood of princes , and my chastity
Be made the altar where the lives of lovers —
Two greater and two better never yet
Made mothers joy — must be the sacrifice
To my unhappy beauty ?
Quickly , by any means ; I long to see ’em .
returned ,
And with them their fair knights . Now , my fair
sister ,
You must love one of them .
So neither for my sake should fall untimely .
speak ,
You that have seen them , what they are .
And truly what I think . Six braver spirits
Than these they have brought , if we judge by the
outside ,
[183] ACT 4. SC. 2 I never saw nor read of . He that stands
In the first place with Arcite , by his seeming ,
Should be a stout man , by his face a prince —
His very looks so say him ; his complexion
Nearer a brown than black — stern and yet noble —
Which shows him hardy , fearless , proud of dangers ;
The circles of his eyes show fire within him ,
And as a heated lion , so he looks .
His hair hangs long behind him , black and shining
Like ravens’ wings ; his shoulders broad and strong ,
Armed long and round ; and on his thigh a sword
Hung by a curious baldric , when he frowns
To seal his will with . Better , o’ my conscience ,
Was never soldier’s friend .
deal short ,
Methinks , of him that’s first with Palamon .
And , if it may be , greater ; for his show
Has all the ornament of honor in ’t :
He’s somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of ,
But of a face far sweeter ; his complexion
Is , as a ripe grape , ruddy . He has felt
Without doubt what he fights for , and so apter
To make this cause his own . In ’s face appears
All the fair hopes of what he undertakes ,
And when he’s angry , then a settled valor ,
Not tainted with extremes , runs through his body
And guides his arm to brave things . Fear he cannot ;
He shows no such soft temper . His head’s yellow ,
Hard-haired and curled , thick-twined like ivy tods ,
Not to undo with thunder . In his face
The livery of the warlike maid appears ,
[185] ACT 4. SC. 2 Pure red and white , for yet no beard has blessed him .
And in his rolling eyes sits Victory ,
As if she ever meant to crown his valor .
His nose stands high , a character of honor ;
His red lips , after fights , are fit for ladies .
Sounds like a trumpet . All his lineaments
Are as a man would wish ’em , strong and clean .
He wears a well-steeled axe , the staff of gold ;
His age some five-and-twenty .
A little man , but of a tough soul , seeming
As great as any ; fairer promises
In such a body yet I never looked on .
Are they not sweet ones ?
Being so few , and well disposed , they show
Great and fine art in nature . He’s white-haired —
Not wanton white , but such a manly color
Next to an auburn ; tough and nimble-set ,
Which shows an active soul . His arms are brawny ,
Lined with strong sinews — to the shoulder-piece
Gently they swell , like women new-conceived ,
Which speaks him prone to labor , never fainting
Under the weight of arms ; stout-hearted still ,
But when he stirs , a tiger . He’s grey-eyed ,
Which yields compassion where he conquers ; sharp
To spy advantages , and where he finds ’em ,
He’s swift to make ’em his . He does no wrongs ,
[187] ACT 4. SC. 2 Nor takes none . He’s round-faced , and when he
smiles
He shows a lover ; when he frowns , a soldier .
About his head he wears the winner’s oak ,
And in it stuck the favor of his lady .
His age some six-and-thirty . In his hand
He bears a charging-staff embossed with silver .
Lady , you shall see men fight now .
But not the cause , my lord . They would show
Bravely about the titles of two kingdoms ;
’Tis pity love should be so tyrannous . —
O , my soft-hearted sister , what think you ?
Weep not till they weep blood . Wench , it must be .
Pirithous . )
To you I give the field ; pray order it
Fitting the persons that must use it .
Their fame has fired me so — till they appear .
Good friend , be royal .
Loses a noble cousin for thy sins .
[189]ACT 4. SC. 3
Scene 3
moon than at other some , is it not ?
sleeps little , altogether without appetite , save often
drinking , dreaming of another world , and a better ;
and what broken piece of matter soe’er she’s about ,
the name Palamon lards it , that she farces ev’ry
business withal , fits it to every question .
Look where she comes ; you shall perceive her
behavior .
‘down-a down-a ,’ and penned by no worse man
than Geraldo , Emilia’s schoolmaster . He’s as fantastical ,
too , as ever he may go upon ’s legs , for in
the next world will Dido see Palamon , and then
will she be out of love with Aeneas .
Poor soul .
must bring a piece of silver on the tip of your
tongue , or no ferry ; then if it be your chance to
come where the blessed spirits are , there’s a
sight now ! We maids that have our livers perished ,
cracked to pieces with love , we shall come there ,
and do nothing all day long but pick flowers with
Proserpine . Then will I make Palamon a nosegay ;
then let him mark me then .
further .
[191] ACT 4. SC. 3 barley-break , we of the blessed . Alas , ’tis a sore life
they have i’ th’ other place — such burning , frying ,
boiling , hissing , howling , chatt’ring , cursing — O ,
they have shrewd measure , take heed ! If one be
mad , or hang or drown themselves , thither they
go , Jupiter bless us , and there shall we be put in
a cauldron of lead and usurers’ grease , amongst a
whole million of cutpurses , and there boil like a
gammon of bacon that will never be enough .
with child , they are in this place . They shall stand
in fire up to the navel and in ice up to th’ heart , and
there th’ offending part burns and the deceiving
part freezes : in troth , a very grievous punishment ,
as one would think , for such a trifle . Believe me ,
one would marry a leprous witch to be rid on ’t , I’ll
assure you .
madness , but a most thick and profound
melancholy .
wife howl together — I were a beast an I’d call it
good sport . One cries ‘O this smoke !’ th’ other ,
‘This fire !’ ; one cries , ‘O , that ever I did it behind
the arras !’ and then howls ; th’ other curses a suing
fellow and her garden house .
I will be true , my stars , my fate , etc.
cannot minister to .
ere she beheld Palamon ?
[193]ACT 4. SC. 3
liking on this gentleman , my friend .
great penn’orth on ’t to give half my state that both
she and I , at this present , stood unfeignedly on the
same terms .
the other senses . They may return and
settle again to execute their preordained faculties ,
but they are now in a most extravagant vagary .
This you must do : confine her to a place where
the light may rather seem to steal in than be
permitted . — Take upon you , young sir , her friend ,
the name of Palamon ; say you come to eat with
her , and to commune of love . This will catch her
attention , for this her mind beats upon ; other
objects that are inserted ’tween her mind and eye
become the pranks and friskins of her madness .
Sing to her such green songs of love as she says
Palamon hath sung in prison . Come to her stuck
in as sweet flowers as the season is mistress of ,
and thereto make an addition of some other compounded
odors which are grateful to the sense .
All this shall become Palamon , for Palamon can
sing , and Palamon is sweet and ev’ry good thing .
Desire to eat with her , carve her , drink to her , and
still among intermingle your petition of grace and
acceptance into her favor . Learn what maids have
been her companions and playferes , and let them
repair to her with Palamon in their mouths , and
appear with tokens , as if they suggested for him . —
It is a falsehood she is in , which is with falsehoods
to be combated . This may bring her to eat ,
to sleep , and reduce what’s now out of square in
her into their former law and regiment . I have seen
it approved , how many times I know not , but to
[195] ACT 4. SC. 3 make the number more , I have great hope in this .
I will between the passages of this project come
in with my appliance . Let us put it in execution
and hasten the success , which doubt not will bring
forth comfort .
[199]
ACT 5
Scene 1
and Attendants . Three altars set up onstage .
Tender their holy prayers . Let the temples
Burn bright with sacred fires , and the altars
In hallowed clouds commend their swelling incense
To those above us . Let no due be wanting .
They have a noble work in hand will honor
The very powers that love ’em .
and their Knights .
You royal german foes , that this day come
To blow that nearness out that flames between you ,
Lay by your anger for an hour and , dove-like ,
Before the holy altars of your helpers ,
The all-feared gods , bow down your stubborn
bodies .
Your ire is more than mortal ; so your help be .
And as the gods regard you , fight with justice .
[201] ACT 5. SC. 1 I’ll leave you to your prayers , and betwixt you
I part my wishes .
Till one of us expire . Think you but thus ,
That were there aught in me which strove to show
Mine enemy in this business , were ’t one eye
Against another , arm oppressed by arm ,
I would destroy th’ offender , coz — I would
Though parcel of myself . Then from this gather
How I should tender you .
To push your name , your ancient love , our kindred
Out of my memory , and i’ th’ selfsame place
To seat something I would confound . So hoist we
The sails that must these vessels port even where
The heavenly Limiter pleases .
Before I turn , let me embrace thee , cousin .
This I shall never do again .
Knights , kinsmen , lovers , yea , my sacrifices ,
True worshippers of Mars , whose spirit in you
Expels the seeds of fear and th’ apprehension
Which still is father of it , go with me
Before the god of our profession . There
Require of him the hearts of lions and
The breath of tigers , yea , the fierceness too ,
Yea , the speed also — to go on , I mean ;
[203] ACT 5. SC. 1 Else wish we to be snails . You know my prize
Must be dragged out of blood ; force and great feat
Must put my garland on , where she sticks ,
The queen of flowers . Our intercession , then ,
Must be to him that makes the camp a cistern
Brimmed with the blood of men . Give me your aid ,
And bend your spirits towards him .
their faces before it , and then kneel .
Thou mighty one , that with thy power hast turned
Green Neptune into purple , whose approach
Comets prewarn , whose havoc in vast field
Unearthèd skulls proclaim , whose breath blows
down
The teeming Ceres’ foison , who dost pluck
With hand armipotent from forth blue clouds
The masoned turrets , that both mak’st and break’st
The stony girths of cities ; me thy pupil ,
Youngest follower of thy drum , instruct this day
With military skill , that to thy laud
I may advance my streamer , and by thee
Be styled the lord o’ th’ day . Give me , great Mars ,
Some token of thy pleasure .
there is heard clanging of armor , with a short
thunder , as the burst of a battle , whereupon
they all rise and bow to the altar .
O , great corrector of enormous times ,
Shaker of o’er-rank states , thou grand decider
Of dusty and old titles , that heal’st with blood
The Earth when it is sick , and cur’st the world
O’ th’ pleurisy of people , I do take
Thy signs auspiciously , and in thy name
To my design march boldly . — Let us go .
[205]ACT 5. SC. 1
with the former observance .
Today extinct . Our argument is love ,
Which , if the goddess of it grant , she gives
Victory too . Then blend your spirits with mine ,
You whose free nobleness do make my cause
Your personal hazard . To the goddess Venus
Commend we our proceeding , and implore
Her power unto our party .
their faces before it , and then kneel .
Hail , sovereign queen of secrets , who hast power
To call the fiercest tyrant from his rage
And weep unto a girl ; that hast the might
Even with an eye-glance to choke Mars’s drum
And turn th’ alarm to whispers ; that canst make
A cripple flourish with his crutch , and cure him
Before Apollo ; that mayst force the king
To be his subject’s vassal , and induce
Stale gravity to dance . The polled bachelor ,
Whose youth , like wanton boys through bonfires ,
Have skipped thy flame , at seventy thou canst catch ,
And make him , to the scorn of his hoarse throat ,
Abuse young lays of love . What godlike power
Hast thou not power upon ? To Phoebus thou
Add’st flames hotter than his ; the heavenly fires
Did scorch his mortal son , thine him . The huntress ,
All moist and cold , some say , began to throw
Her bow away and sigh . Take to thy grace
Me , thy vowed soldier , who do bear thy yoke
As ’twere a wreath of roses , yet is heavier
Than lead itself , stings more than nettles .
I have never been foul-mouthed against thy law ,
[207] ACT 5. SC. 1 Ne’er revealed secret , for I knew none — would not ,
Had I kenned all that were . I never practiced
Upon man’s wife , nor would the libels read
Of liberal wits . I never at great feasts
Sought to betray a beauty , but have blushed
At simp’ring sirs that did . I have been harsh
To large confessors , and have hotly asked them
If they had mothers — I had one , a woman ,
And women ’twere they wronged . I knew a man
Of eighty winters — this I told them — who
A lass of fourteen brided ; ’twas thy power
To put life into dust . The agèd cramp
Had screwed his square foot round ;
The gout had knit his fingers into knots ;
Torturing convulsions from his globy eyes
Had almost drawn their spheres , that what was life
In him seemed torture . This anatomy
Had by his young fair fere a boy , and I
Believed it was his , for she swore it was ,
And who would not believe her ? Brief , I am
To those that prate and have done , no companion ;
To those that boast and have not , a defier ;
To those that would and cannot , a rejoicer .
Yea , him I do not love that tells close offices
The foulest way , nor names concealments in
The boldest language . Such a one I am ,
And vow that lover never yet made sigh
Truer than I . O , then , most soft sweet goddess ,
Give me the victory of this question , which
Is true love’s merit , and bless me with a sign
Of thy great pleasure .
seen to flutter . They fall again upon
their faces , then on their knees .
O thou that from eleven to ninety reign’st
In mortal bosoms , whose chase is this world
[209] ACT 5. SC. 1 And we in herds thy game , I give thee thanks
For this fair token , which being laid unto
Mine innocent true heart , arms in assurance
My body to this business . — Let us rise
And bow before the goddess .
Time comes on .
hair about her shoulders , wearing a wheaten wreath ;
one in white holding up her train , her hair stuck with
flowers ; one before her carrying a silver hind , in which
is conveyed incense and sweet odors , which being
set upon the altar of Diana , her maids standing
aloof , she sets fire to it . Then they curtsy and kneel .
Abandoner of revels , mute contemplative ,
Sweet , solitary , white as chaste , and pure
As wind-fanned snow , who to thy female knights
Allow’st no more blood than will make a blush ,
Which is their order’s robe , I here , thy priest ,
Am humbled ’fore thine altar . O , vouchsafe
With that thy rare green eye , which never yet
Beheld thing maculate , look on thy virgin ,
And , sacred silver mistress , lend thine ear —
Which ne’er heard scurrile term , into whose port
Ne’er entered wanton sound — to my petition ,
Seasoned with holy fear . This is my last
Of vestal office . I am bride-habited
But maiden-hearted . A husband I have ’pointed ,
But do not know him . Out of two I should
Choose one , and pray for his success , but I
Am guiltless of election . Of mine eyes ,
Were I to lose one — they are equal precious —
I could doom neither ; that which perished should
[211] ACT 5. SC. 2 Go to ’t unsentenced . Therefore , most modest queen ,
He of the two pretenders that best loves me
And has the truest title in ’t , let him
Take off my wheaten garland , or else grant
The file and quality I hold I may
Continue in thy band .
altar , and in the place ascends a rose
tree , having one rose upon it .
See what our general of ebbs and flows
Out from the bowels of her holy altar
With sacred act advances : but one rose .
If well inspired , this battle shall confound
Both these brave knights , and I , a virgin flower ,
Must grow alone unplucked .
and the rose falls from the tree .
The flower is fall’n , the tree descends . O mistress ,
Thou here dischargest me . I shall be gathered ;
I think so , but I know not thine own will .
Unclasp thy mystery ! — I hope she’s pleased ;
Her signs were gracious .
Scene 2
the habit of Palamon .
Have half-persuaded her that I am Palamon ;
Within this half-hour she came smiling to me ,
[213] ACT 5. SC. 2 And asked me what I would eat , and when I would
kiss her .
I told her ‘Presently ,’ and kissed her twice .
For there the cure lies mainly .
She would watch with me tonight , for well she knew
What hour my fit would take me .
And when your fit comes , fit her home ,
And presently .
You should observe her ev’ry way .
I have no voice , sir , to confirm her that way .
If she entreat again , do anything .
Lie with her , if she ask you .
I’ th’ way of honesty .
Ne’er cast your child away for honesty .
Cure her first this way ; then if she will be honest ,
She has the path before her .
[215]ACT 5. SC. 2
And let’s see how she is .
Her Palamon stays for her . But , doctor ,
Methinks you are i’ th’ wrong still .
You fathers are fine fools . Her honesty ?
And we should give her physic till we find that !
But that’s all one ; ’tis nothing to our purpose .
Whate’er her father says , if you perceive
Her mood inclining that way that I spoke of ,
Videlicet , the way of flesh — you have me ?
And do it home ; it cures her , ipso facto ,
The melancholy humor that infects her .
She comes ; pray humor her .
And has done this long hour , to visit you .
[217] ACT 5. SC. 2 He’s a kind gentleman , and I am much bound to
him .
Did you ne’er see the horse he gave me ?
He dances very finely , very comely ,
And for a jig , come cut and long tail to him ,
He turns you like a top .
And that will founder the best hobbyhorse ,
If I have any skill , in all the parish ,
And gallops to the tune of Light o’ love .
What think you of this horse ?
I think he might be brought to play at tennis .
Of all his hay and provender . That hostler
Must rise betime that cozens him . You know
The chestnut mare the Duke has ?
But he is like his master , coy and scornful .
[219]ACT 5. SC. 2
And twenty strike of oats , but he’ll ne’er have her .
He lisps in ’s neighing able to entice
A miller’s mare . He’ll be the death of her .
How do you ?
That’s a fine maid ; there’s a curtsy !
How far is ’t now to th’ end o’ th’ world , my masters ?
stool-ball .
What is there else to do ?
If we shall keep our wedding there .
For there , I will assure you , we shall find
Some blind priest for the purpose , that will venture
To marry us ; for here they are nice and foolish .
Besides , my father must be hanged tomorrow ,
And that would be a blot i’ th’ business .
Are not you Palamon ?
[221]ACT 5. SC. 2
But this poor petticoat and two coarse smocks .
be nibbling .
And will perfume me finely against the wedding .
Is not this your cousin Arcite ?
And I am glad my cousin Palamon
Has made so fair a choice .
how you’re grown !
My Palamon , I hope , will grow too , finely ,
Now he’s at liberty . Alas , poor chicken ,
He was kept down with hard meat and ill lodging ,
But I’ll kiss him up again .
[223]ACT 5. SC. 2
That e’er was seen .
You bear a charge there too .
I must e’en leave you here .
I will not lose the sight .
I’ll make her right again .
But still preserve her in this way .
And then we’ll play at cards .
[225]ACT 5. SC. 3
Scene 3
Emilia , Pirithous , and some Attendants .
Than this decision ; ev’ry blow that falls
Threats a brave life ; each stroke laments
The place whereon it falls , and sounds more like
A bell than blade . I will stay here .
It is enough my hearing shall be punished
With what shall happen , ’gainst the which there is
No deafing but to hear ; not taint mine eye
With dread sights it may shun .
Your sister will no further .
She shall see deeds of honor in their kind ,
Which sometime show well , penciled . Nature now
Shall make and act the story , the belief
Both sealed with eye and ear . — You must be present ;
You are the victor’s meed , the price and garland
To crown the question’s title .
If I were there , I’d wink .
This trial is as ’twere i’ th’ night , and you
The only star to shine .
There is but envy in that light which shows
The one the other . Darkness , which ever was
The dam of horror , who does stand accursed
Of many mortal millions , may even now ,
[227] ACT 5. SC. 3 By casting her black mantle over both ,
That neither could find other , get herself
Some part of a good name , and many a murder
Set off whereto she’s guilty .
Their valor at your eye . Know , of this war
You are the treasure , and must needs be by
To give the service pay .
The title of a kingdom may be tried
Out of itself .
Those that remain with you could wish their office
To any of their enemies .
I am like to know your husband ’fore yourself
By some small start of time . He whom the gods
Do of the two know best , I pray them he
Be made your lot .
exit .
the pictures of Arcite and Palamon .
Is like an engine bent , or a sharp weapon
In a soft sheath ; mercy and manly courage
Are bedfellows in his visage . Palamon
Has a most menacing aspect ; his brow
Is graved , and seems to bury what it frowns on ;
Yet sometimes ’tis not so , but alters to
The quality of his thoughts . Long time his eye
Will dwell upon his object . Melancholy
Becomes him nobly ; so does Arcite’s mirth ;
[229] ACT 5. SC. 3 But Palamon’s sadness is a kind of mirth ,
So mingled , as if mirth did make him sad
And sadness merry . Those darker humors that
Stick misbecomingly on others , on them
Live in fair dwelling .
Hark how yon spurs to spirit do incite
The princes to their proof ! Arcite may win me ,
And yet may Palamon wound Arcite to
The spoiling of his figure . O , what pity
Enough for such a chance ? If I were by ,
I might do hurt , for they would glance their eyes
Towards my seat , and in that motion might
Omit a ward or forfeit an offense
Which craved that very time .
within crying ‘À Palamon !’
It is much better
I am not there . O , better never born
Than minister to such harm !
What is the chance ?
He looked all grace and success , and he is
Doubtless the prim’st of men . I prithee run
And tell me how it goes .
lost .
Upon my right side still I wore thy picture ,
Palamon’s on the left — why so , I know not .
[231] ACT 5. SC. 3 I had no end in ’t else ; chance would have it so .
On the sinister side the heart lies ; Palamon
Had the best-boding chance .
This burst of clamor
Is sure th’ end o’ th’ combat .
Within an inch o’ th’ pyramid , that the cry
Was general ‘À Palamon .’ But anon ,
Th’ assistants made a brave redemption , and
The two bold titlers at this instant are
Hand to hand at it .
Both into one — O , why , there were no woman
Worth so composed a man ! Their single share ,
Their nobleness peculiar to them , gives
The prejudice of disparity , value’s shortness ,
To any lady breathing .
More exulting ?
‘Palamon’ still ?
Set both thine ears to th’ business .
And ‘Victory ! Hark , Arcite , victory !’
The combat’s consummation is proclaimed
By the wind instruments .
That Arcite was no babe . God’s lid , his richness
And costliness of spirit looked through him ; it could
[233] ACT 5. SC. 3 No more be hid in him than fire in flax ,
Than humble banks can go to law with waters
That drift-winds force to raging . I did think
Good Palamon would miscarry , yet I knew not
Why I did think so . Our reasons are not prophets
When oft our fancies are . They are coming off .
Alas , poor Palamon !
Arcite as victor , and Attendants and others .
Yet quaking and unsettled . — Fairest Emily ,
The gods by their divine arbitrament
Have given you this knight ; he is a good one
As ever struck at head . — Give me your hands .
Receive you her , you him . Be plighted with
A love that grows as you decay .
To buy you I have lost what’s dearest to me
Save what is bought , and yet I purchase cheaply ,
As I do rate your value .
He speaks now of as brave a knight as e’er
Did spur a noble steed . Surely the gods
Would have him die a bachelor , lest his race
Should show i’ th’ world too godlike . His behavior
So charmed me that methought Alcides was
To him a sow of lead . If I could praise
Each part of him to th’ all I have spoke , your Arcite
Did not lose by ’t , for he that was thus good
Encountered yet his better . I have heard
Two emulous Philomels beat the ear o’ th’ night
With their contentious throats , now one the higher ,
Anon the other , then again the first ,
And by-and-by out-breasted , that the sense
[235] ACT 5. SC. 4 Could not be judge between ’em . So it fared
Good space between these kinsmen , till heavens did
Make hardly one the winner . — Wear the garland
With joy that you have won . — For the subdued ,
Give them our present justice , since I know
Their lives but pinch ’em . Let it here be done .
The scene’s not for our seeing . Go we hence
Right joyful , with some sorrow . — Arm your prize ;
I know you will not lose her . — Hippolyta ,
I see one eye of yours conceives a tear ,
The which it will deliver .
O all you heavenly powers , where is your mercy ?
But that your wills have said it must be so ,
And charge me live to comfort this unfriended ,
This miserable prince , that cuts away
A life more worthy from him than all women ,
I should and would die too .
That four such eyes should be so fixed on one
That two must needs be blind for ’t .
Scene 4
pinioned ; Jailer , Executioner and Others ,
carrying a block and an ax .
The love o’ th’ people ; yea , i’ th’ selfsame state
Stands many a father with his child . Some comfort
We have by so considering . We expire ,
And not without men’s pity . To live still ,
[237] ACT 5. SC. 4 Have their good wishes ; we prevent
The loathsome misery of age , beguile
The gout and rheum that in lag hours attend
For gray approachers ; we come towards the gods
Young and unwappered , not halting under crimes
Many and stale . That sure shall please the gods
Sooner than such , to give us nectar with ’em ,
For we are more clear spirits . My dear kinsmen ,
Whose lives for this poor comfort are laid down ,
You have sold ’em too too cheap .
Of more content ? O’er us the victors have
Fortune , whose title is as momentary
As to us death is certain . A grain of honor
They not o’er-weigh us .
And with our patience anger tott’ring Fortune ,
Who at her certain’st reels .
Taste to you all .
friend ,
Your gentle daughter gave me freedom once ;
You’ll see ’t done now forever . Pray , how does she ?
I heard she was not well ; her kind of ill
Gave me some sorrow .
And to be married shortly .
I am most glad on ’t . ’Tis the latest thing
I shall be glad of ; prithee , tell her so .
Commend me to her , and to piece her portion ,
Tender her this .
[239]ACT 5. SC. 4
A right good creature , more to me deserving
Than I can quit or speak of .
As my leave-taking .
If you have done so quickly ! — Noble Palamon ,
The gods will show their glory in a life
That thou art yet to lead .
When Venus , I have said , is false ? How do things
fare ?
That are most dearly sweet and bitter .
Hath waked us from our dream ?
cousin ,
[241] ACT 5. SC. 4 Mounted upon a steed that Emily
Did first bestow on him — a black one , owing
Not a hair worth of white , which some will say
Weakens his price , and many will not buy
His goodness with this note , which superstition
Here finds allowance — on this horse is Arcite
Trotting the stones of Athens — which the calkins
Did rather tell than trample , for the horse
Would make his length a mile , if ’t pleased his rider
To put pride in him . As he thus went counting
The flinty pavement , dancing , as ’twere , to th’ music
His own hooves made — for , as they say , from iron
Came music’s origin — what envious flint ,
Cold as old Saturn , and like him possessed
With fire malevolent , darted a spark ,
Or what fierce sulphur else , to this end made ,
I comment not ; the hot horse , hot as fire ,
Took toy at this and fell to what disorder
His power could give his will ; bounds , comes on end ,
Forgets school-doing , being therein trained
And of kind manage . Pig-like he whines
At the sharp rowel , which he frets at rather
Than any jot obeys ; seeks all foul means
Of boist’rous and rough jadery to disseat
His lord that kept it bravely . When naught served ,
When neither curb would crack , girth break , nor
diff’ring plunges
Disroot his rider whence he grew , but that
He kept him ’tween his legs , on his hind hoofs
On end he stands
That Arcite’s legs , being higher than his head ,
Seemed with strange art to hang . His victor’s wreath
Even then fell off his head , and presently
Backward the jade comes o’er , and his full poise
Becomes the rider’s load . Yet is he living ,
But such a vessel ’tis that floats but for
[243] ACT 5. SC. 4 The surge that next approaches . He much desires
To have some speech with you . Lo , he appears .
and Arcite carried in a chair .
The gods are mighty , Arcite . If thy heart ,
Thy worthy , manly heart , be yet unbroken ,
Give me thy last words . I am Palamon ,
One that yet loves thee dying .
And with her all the world’s joy . Reach thy hand ;
Farewell . I have told my last hour . I was false ,
Yet never treacherous . Forgive me , cousin .
One kiss from fair Emilia .
’Tis done .
Take her . I die .
thee !
Thou art a right good man , and while I live ,
This day I give to tears .
I sundered you . Acknowledge to the gods
Our thanks that you are living .
His part is played , and though it were too short ,
He did it well . Your day is lengthened , and
The blissful dew of heaven does arrouse you .
The powerful Venus well hath graced her altar ,
And given you your love . Our master , Mars ,
Hath vouched his oracle , and to Arcite gave
[245] ACT 5. SC. 4 The grace of the contention . So the deities
Have showed due justice . — Bear this hence .
That we should things desire which do cost us
The loss of our desire , that naught could buy
Dear love but loss of dear love .
Did play a subtler game . The conquered triumphs ;
The victor has the loss ; yet in the passage
The gods have been most equal . — Palamon ,
Your kinsman hath confessed the right o’ th’ lady
Did lie in you , for you first saw her and
Even then proclaimed your fancy . He restored her
As your stol’n jewel and desired your spirit
To send him hence forgiven . The gods my justice
Take from my hand and they themselves become
The executioners . Lead your lady off ,
And call your lovers from the stage of death ,
Whom I adopt my friends . A day or two
Let us look sadly , and give grace unto
The funeral of Arcite , in whose end
The visages of bridegrooms we’ll put on
And smile with Palamon — for whom an hour ,
But one hour since , I was as dearly sorry
As glad of Arcite , and am now as glad
As for him sorry . O you heavenly charmers ,
What things you make of us ! For what we lack
We laugh , for what we have are sorry , still
Are children in some kind . Let us be thankful
For that which is , and with you leave dispute
That are above our question . Let’s go off
And bear us like the time .
[247]EPILOGUE
Enter Epilogue . …
But , as it is with schoolboys , cannot say .
I am cruel fearful ! Pray yet , stay a while ,
And let me look upon you . No man smile ?
Then it goes hard , I see . He that has
Loved a young handsome wench , then , show his
face —
’Tis strange if none be here — and , if he will ,
Against his conscience let him hiss and kill
Our market . ’Tis in vain , I see , to stay you .
Have at the worst can come , then ! Now what say
you ?
And yet mistake me not : I am not bold .
We have no such cause . If the tale we have told —
For ’tis no other — any way content you —
For to that honest purpose it was meant you —
We have our end ; and you shall have ere long ,
I dare say , many a better , to prolong
Your old loves to us . We , and all our might ,
Rest at your service . Gentlemen , good night .
Appendix A
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Link to license
- Citation Suggestion for this Edition
- TextGrid Repository (2025). Shakespeare, William. The Two Noble Kinsmen. The Folger Digital Texts in TextGrid. https://hdl.handle.net/21.11113/0000-0016-8486-B