Part 26

_Emil._ That you would never deny me any thing Fit for my modest suit, and your free granting: I tye you to your word now, if ye fall in't, Think how you maim your honor; (For now I'm set a begging Sir, I'm deaf To all but your compassion) how, their lives Might breed the ruin of my name; Opinion, Shall any thing that loves me perish for me? That were a cruell wisdom, doe men proyn The straight young Bows that blush with thousand Blossoms Because they may be rotten? O Duke _Theseus_ The goodly Mothers that have groan'd for these, And all the longing Maids that ever lov'd, If your vow stand, shall curse me and my Beauty, And in their funerall songs, for these two Cosens Despise my crueltie, and cry woe worth me, Till I'm nothing but the scorn of women; For Heavens sake save their lives, and banish 'em.

_Thes._ On what conditions?

_Emil._ Swear'em never more To make me their Contention, or to know me, To tread upon the Dukedome, and to be Where ever they shall travel, ever strangers to one another.

_Pal._ I'll be cut a peeces Before I take this oath, forget I love her? O all ye gods dispise me then: Thy Banishment I not mislike, so we may fairly carry Our Swords, and cause along: Else never trifle, But take our lives Duke, I must love and will, And for that love, must and dare kill this Cosen On any peece the earth has.

_Thes._ Will you _Arcite_ Take these conditions?

_Pal._ He's a villain then.

_Per._ These are men.

_Arcite._ No, never Duke: 'Tis worse to me than begging To take my life so basely, though I think I never shall enjoy her, yet I'll preserve The honor of affection, and dye for her, Make death a Devill.

_Thes._ What may be done? For now I feel compassion.

_Per._ Let it not fall again Sir.

_Thes._ Say _Emilia_ If one of them were dead, as one must, are you Content to take th'other to your husband? They cannot both enjoy you; They are Princes As goodly as your own eyes, and as noble As ever fame yet spoke of: Look upon'em, And if you can love, end this difference, I give consent, are you content too, Princes?

_Both._ With all our souls.

_Thes._ He that she refuses Must dye then.

_Both._ Any death thou canst invent Duke.

_Pal._ If I fall from that mouth, I fall with favor. And Lovers yet unborn shall bless my ashes.

_Arc._ If she refuse me, yet my grave will wed me, And Soldiers sing my Epitaph.

_Thes._ Make choice then.

_Emil._ I cannot Sir, they are both too excellent For me, a hayr shall never fall of these men.

_Hip._ What will become of 'em?

_Thes._ Thus I ordain it, And by mine honor, once again it stands, Or both shall dye. You shall both to your Countrey, And each within this month accompanied With three fair Knights, appear again in this place, In which I'll plant a Pyramid; And whether Before us that are here, can force his Cosen By fair and knightly strength to touch the Pillar, He shall enjoy her: The other loose his head, And all his friends: Nor shall he grudge to fall, Nor think he dies with interest in this Lady: Will this content ye?

_Pal._ Yes: Here Cosen _Arcite_ I'm friends again, till that hour.

_Arc._ I embrace ye.

_Thes._ Are you content Sister?

_Emil._ Yes, I must Sir, [Els] both miscarry.

_Thes._ Come shake hands again then, And take heed, as you are Gentlemen, this Quarrell Sleep till the hour p[re]fixt, and hold your course.

_Pal._ We dare not fail thee _Theseus_.

_T[h]es._ Come, I'll give ye Now usage like to Princes, and to Friends: When ye return, who wins, I'll settle here, Who loses, yet I'll weep upon his Beer. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Jailor and his Friend._

_Jail._ Hear you no more? was nothing said of me Concerning the escape of _Palamon_? Good Sir remember.

_1 Fr._ Nothing that I heard, For I came home before the business Was fully ended: yet I might perceive E'r I departed, a great likelyhood Of both their pardons: for _Hippolita_, And fair-ey'd _Emilia_, upon their knees, Begg'd with such handsome pitty, 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 _Perithous_ 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.

_Enter 2 Friends._

_Jail._ Pray Heaven it hold so.

_2 Fr._ Be of good comfort man; I bring you news Good news.

_Jail._ They are welcome.

_2 Fr. Palamon_ has clear'd you, And got your pardon, and discover'd How, and by whose means he scap'd, 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.

_Jail._ Ye are a good man And ever bring good news.

_1 Fr._ How was it ended?

_2 Fr._ Why, as it should be; they that ne'er begg'd But they prevail'd, had their suits fairly granted. The prisoners have their lives.

_1 Fr._ I knew 'twould be so.

_2 Fr._ But there be new conditions, which you'll hear of At better time.

_Jail._ I hope they are good.

_2 Fr._ They are honourable, How good they'll prove, I know not.

_Enter Wooer._

_1 Fr._ 'Twill be known.

_Woo._ Alas Sir, where's your Daughter?

_Jail._ Why do you ask?

_Woo._ Oh Sir, when did you see her?

_2 Fr._ How he looks!

_Jail._ This morning.

_Woo._ Was she well? was she in health Sir? when did she sleep?

_1 Fr._ These are strange questions.

_Jail._ I do not think she was very well, for now You make me mind her, but this very day I ask'd her questions, and she answer'd 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?

_Woo._ Nothing but my pity, but you must know it, and as good by me As by another that less loves her:

_Jail._ Well Sir.

_1 Fr._ Not right?

_2 Fr._ Not well?--

[_Woo._] No Sir, not well. 'Tis too true, she is mad.

_1 Fr._ It cannot be.

_Woo._ Believe, you'll find it so.

_Jay._ I half suspected 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.

_Woo._ 'Tis likely.

_Jay._ But why all this haste, Sir?

_Woo._ I'll tell you quickly. As I late was angling 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 perceiv'd not Who made the sound; the Rushes, and the Reeds Had so encompast it: I laid me down And listned to the words she sung, for then Through a small glade cut by the Fisher-men, I saw it was your Daughter.

_Jail._ Pray goe on Sir?

_Woo._ She sung much, but no sence; only I heard her Repeat this often. _Palamon_ is gone, Is gone to th' wood to gather Mulberries, I'll find him out to morrow.

_1 Fr._ Pretty soul.

_Woo._ His shackles will betray him, he'll be taken, And what shall I do then? I'll bring a beavy, A hundred black-ey'd 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 Antique 'fore the Duke, And beg his pardon; then she talk'd of you, Sir; That you must lose your head to morrow 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 sate; her careless Tresses, A wrea[th] of Bull-rush rounded; about her stuck Thousand fresh Water Flowers of several colours. That methought she appear'd like the fair Nymph That feeds the lake with waters, or as _Iris_ Newly dropt down from heaven; Rings she made Of Rushes that grew by, and to 'em spoke The prettiest posies: thus our true love's ty'd, This you may loose, not me, and many a one: And then she wept, and sung again, and sigh'd, And with the same breath smil'd, and kist her hand.

_2 Fr._ Alas what pity it is?

_Woo._ I made in to her, She saw me, and straight sought the flood, I sav'd her, And set her safe to land: when presently She slipt 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] staid, And fell, scarce to be got away: I left them with her.

_Enter Brother, Daughter, and others._

And hither came to tell you: Here they are.

_Daugh. May you never more enjoy the light_, &c. Is not this a fine Song?

_Bro._ Oh, a very fine one.

_Daugh._ I can sing twenty more.

_Bro._ I think you can.

_Daugh._ Yes truly can I, I can sing the _Broom_, And _Bonny Robbin_. Are not you a Tailor?

_Bro._ Yes.

_Daugh._ Where's my wedding-Gown?

_Bro._ I'll bring it to morrow.

_Daugh._ Doe, very rarely, I must be abroad else To call the Maids, and pay the Minstrels For I must loose my Maiden-head by cock-light 'Twill never thrive else. _Oh fair, oh sweet_, &c. [_Sings._

_Bro._ You must ev'n take it patiently.

_Jay._ 'Tis true.

_Daugh._ Good ev'n, good men, pray did you ever hear Of one young _Palamon_?

_Jay._ Yes wench, we know him.

_Daugh._ Is't not a fine young Gentleman?

_Jay._ 'Tis Love.

_Bro._ By no mean cross her, she is then distemper'd For worse than now she shows.

_1 Fr._ Yes, he's a fine man.

_Daugh._ Oh, is he so? you have a Sister.

_1 Fr._ Yes.

_Daugh._ But she shall never have him, tell her so, For a trick that I know, y'had 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?

_1 Fr._ Yes.

_Daugh._ There is at least two hundred now with 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_.

_2 Fr._ This is strange.

_Daugh._ As ever [you] heard, but say nothing.

_1 Fr._ No.

_Daugh._ They come from all parts of the Dukedom to him, I'll warrant ye, he had not so few last night As twenty, to dispatch, he'll tickle't up In two hours, if his hand be in.

_Jay._ She's lost Past all cure.

_Bro._ Heaven forbid man.

_Daug._ Come hither, you are a wise man.

_1 Fr._ Does she know him?

_2 Fr._ No, would she did.

_Daugh._ You are master of a Ship?

_Jay._ Yes.

_Daugh._ Where's your Compass?

_Jay._ Here.

_Daugh._ Set it to th' North. And now direct your course to th' wood, where _Palamon_ Lies longing for me; for the Tackling Let me alone; come weigh my hearts, cheerly.

_All._ Owgh, owgh, owgh, 'tis up, the wind's fair, top the Bowling; out with the main sail, where's your Whistle Master?

_Bro._ Let's get her in.

_Jay._ Up to the top Boy.

_Bro._ Where's the Pilot?

_1 Fr._ Here.

_Daugh._ What ken'st thou?

_3 Fr._ A fair wood.

_Daugh._ Bear for it master: tack about: [_Sings._ _When_ Cinthia _with her borrowed light_, &c. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Emilia _alone, with two Pictures_.

_Emil._ Yet I may bind those wounds up, that must open 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 [sowes] 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 _Ganimead_, Set Love a fire with, and enforc'd 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! Arch'd like the great ey'd _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 swarth, and meagre, of an eye as heavy 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: Oh who can find the bent of womans fancy? I'm a fool, my reason is lost in me, I have no choice, and I have ly'd so lewdly That Women ought to beat me. On my knees I ask thy pardon: _Palamon_, thou art alone, And only beautiful, and these th[e] 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! Oh Love, this only From this hour is complexion: lye there _Arcite_, Thou art a changling to him, a mere Gipsie. And this the noble Bodie: I am sotted, Utterly lost: My Virgins faith has fled me. For if my Brother, but even now had ask'd me Whether I lov'd, 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 _Fancie_, That having two fair gawds of equal sweetness, Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both.

_Enter_ Emil. _and Gent._

_Emil._ How now Sir?

_Gent._ From the Noble Duke your Brother Madam, I bring you news: the Knights are come.

_Emil._ To end the quarrel?

_Gent._ Yes.

_Emil._ Would I might end first: What sins have I committed, chaste _Diana_, That my unspotted youth must now be soil'd With bloud 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?

_Enter_ Theseus, Hippolita, Perithous, _and Attendants_.

_Thes._ Bring 'em in quickly, By any means I long to see 'em. Your two contending Lovers are return'd, And with them their fair Knights: Now my fair Sister, You must love one of them.

_Emil._ I had rather both, So neither for my sake should fall untimely.

_Enter Messenger._ Curtis.

_Thes._ Who saw 'em?

_Per._ I a while.

_Gent._ And I.

_Thes._ From whence come you, Sir?

_Mess._ From the Knights.

_Thes._ Pray speak You that have seen them, what they are.

_Mess._ I will Sir, And truly what I think: six braver spirits Than those they have brought, (if we judge by the outside) 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 shews him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers: The circles of his eyes, shew fair 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, Arm'd long and round, and on his Thigh a Sword Hung by a curious Bauldrick: when he frowns To seal his Will with, better o' my conscience Was never Soldiers friend.

_Thes._ Thou hast well describ'd him.

_Per._ Yet, a great deal short Methinks, of him that's first with _Palamon_.

_Thes._ Pray speak him friend.

_Per._ I ghess he is a Prince too, 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 setled valour (Not tainted with extreams) runs through his body, And guides his arm to brave things: Fear he cannot, He shews no such soft temper, his head's yellow, Hard hair'd, and curl'd, thick twin'd, like Ivy tops, No[t] to undoe with thunder; in his face The Livery of the warlike Maid appears, Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blest him. And in his rowling eyes sits victory, As if she ever meant to correct his valour: His Nose stands high, a Character of honor, His red Lips, after fights, are fit for Ladies.

_Emil._ Must these men die too?

_Per._ When he speaks, his tongue Sounds like a Trumpet; all his lineaments Are as a man would wish 'em, strong and clean, He wears a well-steel'd Axe, the staffe of Gold, His age some five and twenty.

_Mess._ There's another, A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming As great as any, fairer promises In such a Body yet I never look'd on.

_Per._ Oh he that's freckle fac'd?

_Mess._ The same my Lord, Are they not sweet ones?

_Per._ Yes, they are well.

_Mess._ Methinks, Being so few, and well dispos'd, they shew Great, and fine Art in nature, he's white hair'd, Not wanton white, but such a manly colour Next to an aborn, tough, and nimble set, Which shows an active soul: his arms are brawny Lin'd with strong sinews: to the shoulder-piece, Gently they swell, like Women new conceiv'd, Which speaks him prone to labour, never fainting Under the weight of Arms, stout-hearted still, But when he stirs, a Tiger; he's grey ey'd, Which yields compassion where he conquers: sharp To spie advantages, and where he finds 'em, He's swift to make 'em his: He does no wrongs, Nor takes none; he's round fac'd, and when he smiles He shows a Lover, when he frowns, a Soldier: About his head he wears the winners oak, And in it stuck the favour of his Lady: His age, some six and thirty. In his hand He bears a Charging Staffe, emboss'd with Silver.

_Thes._ Are they all thus?

_Per._ They are all the sons of honor.

_Thes._ Now as I have a soul, I long to see 'em, Lady, you shall see men fight now.

_Hip._ I wish it, But not the cause my Lord; They would shew Bravely about the Titles of two Kingdoms; 'Tis pity Love should be so tyrannous: Oh my soft-hearted Sister, what think you? Weep not, till they weep bloud: Wench it must be.

_Thes._ You have steel'd 'em with your Beauty: honor'd friend, To you I give the Field; pray order it, Fitting the persons that must use it.

_Per._ Yes Sir.

_Thes._ Come, I'll go visit 'em: I cannot stay, Their fame has fir'd me so; till they appear, Good friend be royal.

_Per._ There shall want no bravery.

_Emil._ Poor wench go weep, for whosoever wins, Looses a noble Cosin, for thy sins. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter Jailor, Wooer, Doctor._

_Doct._ Her distraction is more at some time of the Moon, Than at other some, is it not?

_Jay._ She is continually in a harmless distemper, sleeps Little, altogether without appetite, save often drinking, Dreaming of another world, and a better; and what Broken piece of matter so e'er she's about, the name _Palamon_ lards it, that she farces ev'ry business

_Enter Daughter._

Withal, fits it to every question; Look where She comes, you shall perceive her behaviour.

_Daugh._ I have forgot it quite; the burden on't was _Down_ _A down a_: and penn'd by no worse man, than _Giraldo_, _Emilias_ Schoolmaster; he's as Fantastical too, as ever he may goe upon's legs, For in the next world will _Dido_ see _Palamon_, and Then will she be out of love with _Æneas_.

_Doct._ What stuff's here? poor soul.

_Jay._ Ev'n thus all day long.

_Daugh._ Now for this Charm, that I told you of, you 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, as there's a sight now; we Maids That have our Livers, perisht, crackt 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.

_Doct._ How prettily she's amiss! note her a little farther.

_Da[u]._ Faith I'll tell you, sometime we goe to Barly-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, oh they have shrowd Measure, take heed; if one be mad, or hang, or Drown themselves, thither they goe, _Jupiter_ bless Us, and there shall we be put in a Cauldron of Lead, and Usurers grease, amongst a whole million of Cut-purses, and there boil like a Gamon of Bacon That will never be enough. [_Exit._

_Doct._ How her brain coins!

_Daugh._ Lords and Courtiers, that have got Maids 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.

_Doct._ How she continues this fancie! 'Tis not an engraffed madness but a most thick, and profound melancholly.

_Daugh._ To hear there a proud Lady, and a proud City wife, howl together: I were a beast, and Il'd call it good sport: one cries, oh this smoak, another this fire; one cries oh that I ever did it behind the Arras, and then howls; th' other curses a suing fellow and her Garden-house.

Sings. _I will be true, my Stars, my Fate, &c._ [_Exit Daugh._

_Jay._ What think you of her, Sir?

_Doct._ I think she has a perturbed mind, which I cannot minister to.

_Jay._ Alas, what then?

_Doct._ Understand you, she ever affected any man, e'r She beheld _Palamon_?

_Jay._ I was once, Sir, in great hope she had fix'd her Liking on this Gentleman my friend.

_Woo._ I did think so too, and would account I had a great Pen'worth on't, to give half my state, that both She and I at this present stood unfainedly on the Same terms.