SCHOOLMASTER

  An eel and woman,

  50 A learned poet says, unless by th’ tail

  And with thy teeth thou hold, will either fail.

  In manners this was false position.

  1 COUNTRYMAN

  A fire ill take her; does she flinch now?

  3 COUNTRYMAN What

  Shall we determine, sir?

  SCHOOLMASTER Nothing.

  55 Our business is become a nullity,

  Yea, and a woeful and a piteous nullity.

  4 COUNTRYMAN

  Now, when the credit of our town lay on it,

  Now to be frampul, now to piss o’th’ nettle!

  Go thy ways, I’ll remember thee, I’ll fit thee.

  Enter the Jailer’s DAUGHTER.

  DAUGHTER [Sings.]

  60 The George Alow came from the south

  From the coast of Barbary-a

  And there he met with brave gallants of war,

  By one, by two, by three-a.

  ‘Well hailed, well hailed, you jolly gallants,

  65 And whither now are you bound-a?

  O let me have your company

  Till we come to the sound-a.’

  There was three fools fell out about an howlet:

  The one he said it was an owl,

  70 The other he said nay,

  The third he said it was a hawk,

  And her bells were cut away.

  3 COUNTRYMAN

  There’s a dainty madwoman, Master,

  Comes i’th’ nick, as mad as a March hare.

  75 If we can get her dance, we are made again;

  I warrant her, she’ll do the rarest gambols.

  1 COUNTRYMAN

  A madwoman? We are made, boys.

  SCHOOLMASTER

  And are you mad, good woman?

  DAUGHTER I would be sorry else.

  Give me your hand.

  SCHOOLMASTER Why?

  DAUGHTER I can tell your fortune.

  80 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.

  SCHOOLMASTER Dii boni,

  A tinker, damsel?

  85 DAUGHTER Or a conjurer.

  Raise me a devil now and let him play

  Chi passa o’th’ bells and bones.

  SCHOOLMASTER Go take her

  And fluently persuade her to a peace.

  Et opus exegi quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignis –

  Strike up and lead her in. [Taborer plays.]

  90 2 COUNTRYMAN Come, lass, let’s trip it.

  DAUGHTER

  I’ll lead. [Dances.]

  3 COUNTRYMAN Do, do! Horns.

  SCHOOLMASTER Persuasively and cunningly.

  Away, boys; I hear the horns. Give me some meditation –

  And mark your cue. Exeunt all but Schoolmaster.

  Pallas inspire me!

  Enter THESEUS, PIRITHOUS, HIPPOLYTA, EMILIA and train.

  THESEUS

  This way the stag took.

  SCHOOLMASTER Stay and edify!

  THESEUS

  95 What have we here?

  PIRITHOUS

  Some country sport, upon my life, sir.

  THESEUS [to Schoolmaster]

  Well, sir, go forward; we will ‘edify’.

  [Chair and stools brought out.]

  Ladies, sit down; we’ll stay it.

  [Theseus, Hippolyta and Emilia sit.]

  SCHOOLMASTER

  Then, doughty Duke, all hail; all hail, sweet ladies –

  THESEUS

  100 This is a cold beginning.

  SCHOOLMASTER

  If you but favour, our country pastime made is.

  We are a few of those collected here

  That ruder tongues distinguish ‘villager’.

  And to say verity, and not to fable,

  105 We are a merry rout, or else a rable,

  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

  110 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,

  115 Is blown abroad, help me, thy poor well-willer,

  And with thy twinkling eyes look right and straight

  Upon this mighty ‘Moor’ of mickle weight.

  ‘Is’ now comes in, which, being glued together,

  Makes ‘Morris’ and the cause that we came hither:

  120 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 tenor:

  At whose great feet I offer up my penner.

  The next the Lord of May and Lady bright;

  125 The Chambermaid and Servingman, by night

  That seek out silent hanging; then mine Host

  And his fat Spouse that welcomes to their cost

  The galled traveller and with a beck’ning

  Informs the tapster to inflame the reck’ning.

  130 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.

  THESEUS

  Ay, ay, by any means, dear Domine.

  PIRITHOUS

  135 Produce.

  SCHOOLMASTER

  Intrate filii! Come forth and foot it.

  Music. [The villagers, with the Jailer’s Daughter, perform a morris dance.]

  SCHOOLMASTER

  Ladies, if we have been merry

  And have pleased ye with a derry,

  And a derry, and a down,

  140 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,

  145 Ere another year run out,

  We’ll make thee laugh and all this rout.

  THESEUS

  Take twenty, Domine. – How does my sweetheart?

  HIPPOLYTA

  Never so pleased, sir.

  EMILIA ’Twas an excellent dance

  And, for a preface, I never heard a better.

  THESEUS

  150 Schoolmaster, I thank you. One see ’em all rewarded.

  PIRITHOUS

  And here’s something to paint your pole withall.

  [Gives Schoolmaster money.]

  THESEUS

  Now to our sports again.

  SCHOOLMASTER

  May the stag thou hunt’st stand long,

  And thy dogs be swift and strong;

  155 May they kill him without lets

  And the ladies eat his dowsets.

  [Theseus and his party depart.] Horns.

  Come, we are all made, dii deaeque omnes. Ye have danced rarely, wenches. Exeunt.

  [3.6] Enter PALAMON from the bush.

  PALAMON

  About this hour my cousin gave his faith

  To visit me again and with him bring

  Two swords and two good armours. If he fail

  He’s neither man nor soldier. When he left me

  5 I did not think a week could have restored

  My lost strength to me, I was grown so low

  And crest-fall’n with my wants. I thank thee, Arcite:

  Thou art yet a fair foe; and I feel myself,

  With this refreshing, able once again

  10 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,

  15 If it but hold, I kill him with: ’tis justice.

  So love and fortune for me!

  Enter ARCITE with armours and swords.

  Oh, good morrow.

  ARCITE

  Good morrow, noble kinsman.

  PALAMON I have put you

  To too much pains, sir.

  ARCITE That too much, fair cousin,

  Is but a debt to honour, and my duty.

  PALAMON

  20 Would you were so in all, sir; I could wish ye

  As kind a kinsman as you force me find

  A beneficial foe, that my embraces

  Might thank ye, not my blows.

  ARCITE I shall think either,

  Well done, a noble recompense.

  PALAMON Then I shall quit you.

  ARCITE

  25 Defy me in these fair terms, and you show

  More than a mistress to me. No more anger,

  As you love anything that’s honourable!

  We were not bred to talk, man; when we are armed

  And both upon our guards, then let our fury,

  30 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

  35 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 every day discourse you into health,

  As I am spared. Your person I am friends with

  40 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.

  PALAMON

  Arcite, thou art so brave an enemy

  That no man but thy cousin’s fit to kill thee.

  I am well and lusty; choose your arms.

  45 ARCITE Choose you, sir.

  PALAMON

  Wilt thou exceed in all, or dost thou do it

  To make me spare thee?

  ARCITE If you think so, cousin,

  You are deceived, for, as I am a soldier,

  I will not spare you.

  PALAMON That’s well said.

  ARCITE You’ll find it.

  PALAMON

  50 Then, as I am an honest man and love,

  With all the justice of affection

  I’ll pay thee soundly. [Chooses armour.]

  This I’ll take.

  ARCITE [Takes the other.] That’s mine then.

  I’ll arm you first.

  PALAMON Do. [Arcite begins to arm him.]

  Pray thee tell me, cousin,

  Where got’st thou this good armour?

  ARCITE ’Tis the Duke’s

  And, to say true, I stole it. Do I pinch you?

  55 PALAMON No.

  ARCITE

  Is’t not too heavy?

  PALAMON I have worn a lighter,

  But I shall make it serve.

  ARCITE I’ll buckl’t close.

  PALAMON

  By any means.

  ARCITE You care not for a grand guard?

  PALAMON

  No, no, we’ll use no horses; I perceive

  You would fain be at that fight.

  60 ARCITE I am indifferent.

  PALAMON

  Faith, so am I. Good cousin, thrust the buckle

  Through far enough.

  ARCITE I warrant you.

  PALAMON My casque now.

  ARCITE

  Will you fight bare-armed?

  PALAMON We shall be the nimbler.

  ARCITE

  But use your gauntlets, though. Those are o’th’ least;

  Prithee take mine, good cousin.

  65 PALAMON Thank you, Arcite.

  How do I look? Am I fall’n much away?

  ARCITE

  Faith, very little; love has used you kindly.

  PALAMON

  I’ll warrant thee, I’ll strike home.

  ARCITE Do and spare not.

  I’ll give you cause, sweet cousin.

  PALAMON Now to you, sir.

  [Begins to arm Arcite.]

  70 Methinks this armour’s very like that, Arcite,

  Thou wor’st that day the three kings fell, but lighter.

  ARCITE

  That was a very good one. And that day,

  I well remember, you outdid me, cousin;

  I never saw such valour. When you charged

  75 Upon the left wing of the enemy,

  I spurred hard to come up and under me

  I had a right good horse.

  PALAMON You had indeed:

  A bright bay, I remember.

  ARCITE Yes, but all

  Was vainly laboured in me; you outwent me,

  80 Nor could my wishes reach you. Yet a little

  I did by imitation.

  PALAMON More by virtue.

  You are modest, cousin.

  ARCITE When I saw you charge first,

  Methought I heard a dreadful clap of thunder

  Break from the troop.

  PALAMON But still before that flew

  85 The lightning of your valour. – Stay a little:

  Is not this piece too strait?

  ARCITE No, no, ’tis well.

  PALAMON

  I would have nothing hurt thee but my sword:

  A bruise would be dishonour.

  ARCITE Now I am perfect.

  PALAMON

  Stand off then.

  ARCITE Take my sword; I hold it better.

  PALAMON

  90 I thank ye, no; keep it, your life lies on it.

  Here’s one: if it but hold, I ask no more

  For all my hopes. My cause and honour guard me!

  ARCITE

  And me my love!

  They bow several ways, then advance and stand.

  Is there aught else to say?

  PALAMON

  This only, and no more. Thou art mine aunt’s son

  95 And that blood we desire to shed is mutual,

  In me thine and in thee mine; my sword

  Is in my hand and if thou killest me

  The gods and I forgive thee. If there be

  A place prepared for those that sleep in honour,

  100 I wish his weary soul that falls may win it.

  Fight bravely, cousin; give me thy noble hand.

  ARCITE

  Here, Palamon. This hand shall never more

  Come near thee with such friendship.

  PALAMON I commend thee.

  ARCITE

  If I fall, curse me, and say I was a coward,

  105 For none but such dare die in these just trials.

  Once more farewell, my cousin.

  PALAMON Farewell, Arcite.

  They fight. Horns within. They stand.

  ARCITE

  Lo, cousin, lo, our folly has undone us!

  PALAMON Why?

  ARCITE

  This is the Duke, a-hunting as I told you;

  If we be found, we are wretched. Oh, retire,

  110 For honour’s sake and safety, 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,

  115 For my contempt. Then all the world will scorn us

  And say we had a noble difference,

  But base disposers of it.

  PALAMON No, no, cousin:

  I will no more be hidden, nor put off

  This great adventure to a second trial;

  120 I know your cunning and I know your cause.

  He that faints now, shame take him! Put thyself

  Upon thy present guard –

  ARCITE You are not mad?

  PALAMON

  Or I will make the advantage of this hour

  Mine own, and what to come shall threaten me

  125 I fear less than my fortune. Know, weak cousin,

  I love Emilia and in that I’ll bury

  Thee and all crosses else.

  ARCITE Then come what can come.

  Thou shalt know, Palamon, I dare as well

  Die as discourse or sleep. Only this fears me:

  130 The law will have the honour of our ends.

  Have at thy life!

  PALAMON Look to thine own well, Arcite.

  They fight again.

  Horns. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EMILIA, PIRITHOUS and train.

  THESEUS

  What ignorant and mad malicious traitors

  Are you, that ’gainst the tenor of my laws

  Are making battle, thus like knights appointed,

  135 Without my leave and officers of arms?

  By Castor, both shall die!

  PALAMON Hold thy word, Theseus.

  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 –

  140 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

  145 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

  I am – and, which is more, dares think her his.

  150 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,

  155 Do such a justice thou thyself wilt envy.

  Then take my life; I’ll woo thee to’t.

  PIRITHOUS O heaven,

  What more than man is this!

  THESEUS I have sworn.

  ARCITE We seek not

  Thy breath of mercy, Theseus; ’tis to me

  A thing as soon to die as thee to say it

  160 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,

  165 As I have served her truest, worthiest,

  As I dare kill this cousin that denies it,

  So let me be most traitor and ye please me.

  For scorning thy edict, Duke: ask that lady