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.

  JAILER She’s lost

  Past all cure.

  BROTHER Heaven forbid, man!

  DAUGHTER [to Jailer] Come hither!

  You are a wise man.

  1 FRIEND [aside] Does she know him?

  140 2 FRIEND [aside] No.

  Would she did!

  DAUGHTER You are master of a ship?

  JAILER

  Yes.

  DAUGHTER

  Where’s your compass?

  JAILER Here.

  DAUGHTER Set it to th’ north.

  And now direct your course to th’ wood, where Palamon

  Lies longing for me. For the tackling,

  145 Let me alone; come, weigh, my hearts, cheerily!

  ALL [severally]

  Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!

  ’Tis up! – The wind’s fair! – Top the bowline! –

  Out with the mainsail! – Where’s your whistle, master?

  BROTHER

  Let’s get her in.

  JAILER

  Up to the top, boy.

  BROTHER Where’s the pilot?

  150 1 FRIEND Here.

  DAUGHTER

  What kenn’st thou?

  2 FRIEND A fair wood.

  DAUGHTER Bear for it, master;

  Tack about!

  [Sings.]

  When Cynthia with her borrowed light (etc.).

  Exeunt.

  [4.2] Enter EMILIA alone, with two pictures.

  EMILIA

  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,

  5 Following the dead cold ashes of their sons,

  Shall never curse my cruelty. [Looks at one of the pictures.]

  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,

  10 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;

  15 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,

  20 Arched like the great-eyed Juno’s, but far sweeter,

  Smoother than Pelops’ shoulder! Fame and Honour,

  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. [Looks at the other picture.]

  25 Palamon

  Is but his foil; to him, a mere dull shadow;

  He’s swart and meagre, of an eye as heavy

  As if he had lost his mother; a still temper;

  No stirring in him, no alacrity;

  30 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 woman’s fancy?’

  I am a fool, my reason is lost in me,

  35 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

  40 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! [Lays Arcite’s picture down.]

  Lie there, Arcite;

  Thou art a changeling to him, a mere gypsy,

  45 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.

  50 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!

  Enter Gentleman.

  How now, sir?

  55 GENTLEMAN From the noble Duke your brother,

  Madam, I bring you news. The knights are come.

  EMILIA

  To end the quarrel?

  GENTLEMAN Yes.

  EMILIA Would I might end first!

  What sins have I committed, chaste Diana,

  That my unspotted youth must now be soiled

  60 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?

  Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, PIRITHOUS and attendants.

  THESEUS Bring ’em in

  65 Quickly, by any means; I long to see ’em.

  [to Emilia] Your two contending lovers are returned,

  And with them their fair knights. Now, my fair sister,

  You must love one of them.

  EMILIA I had rather both;

  So neither for my sake should fall untimely.

  THESEUS

  Who saw ’em?

  PIRITHOUS I a while.

  70 GENTLEMAN And I.

  Enter Messenger.

  THESEUS

  From whence come you, sir?

  MESSENGER From the knights.

  THESEUS Pray speak,

  You that have seen them, what they are.

  MESSENGER I will, sir,

  And truly what I think. Six braver spirits

  Than these they have brought, if we judge by the outside,

  75 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,

  80 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;

  85 Armed long and round, and on his thigh a sword,

  Hung by a curious baldrick, when he frowns,

  To seal his will with. Better o’ my conscience

  Was never soldier’s friend.

  THESEUS

  Thou hast well described him.

  PIRITHOUS Yet a great deal short,

  90 Methinks, of him that’s first with Palamon.

  THESEUS

  Pray, speak him, friend.

  PIRITHOUS I guess he is a prince too,

  And, if it may be, greater; for his show

  Has all the ornament of honour in’t.

  He’s somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of,

  95 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

  100 And, when he’s angry, then a settled valour,

  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,

  105 Not to undo with thunder. In his face

  The livery of the warlike maid appears,

  Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blessed him;

  And in his rolling eyes sits Victory,

  As if she ever meant to court his valour.

  110 His nose stands high, a character of honour;

  His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies.

  EMILIA

  Must these men die too?

  PIRITHOUS When he speaks, his tongue

  Sounds like a trumpet. All his lineaments

  Are as a man would wish ’em, strong and clean;

  115 He wears a well-steeled axe, the staff of gold;

  His age some five-and-twenty.

  MESSENGER 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 looked on.

  PIRITHOUS

  Oh, he that’s freckle-faced?

  120 MESSENGER The same, my lord.

  Are they not sweet ones?

  PIRITHOUS Yes, they are well.

  MESSENGER Methinks,

  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 colour,

  125 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 labour, never fainting

  130 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,

  135 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 favour of his lady.

  His age, some six-and-thirty. In his hand

  140 He bears a charging-staff, embossed with silver.

  THESEUS

  Are they all thus?

  PIRITHOUS They are all the sons of honour.

  THESEUS

  Now, as I have a soul, I long to see ’em.

  [to Hippolyta] Lady, you shall see men fight now.

  HIPPOLYTA I wish it,

  But not the cause, my lord. They would show bravely

  145 Fighting 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.

  THESEUS

  You have steeled ’em with your beauty. [to Pirithous]

  Honoured friend,

  150 To you I give the field; pray order it

  Fitting the persons that must use it.

  PIRITHOUS Yes, sir.

  THESEUS

  Come, I’ll go visit ’em! I cannot stay –

  Their fame has fir’d me so; till they appear,

  Good friend, be royal.

  PIRITHOUS There shall want no bravery.

  Exeunt [all but Emilia].

  EMILIA

  155 Poor wench, go weep, for whosoever wins

  Loses a noble cousin, for thy sins. Exit.

  [4.3] Enter Jailer, Wooer and Doctor.

  DOCTOR Her distraction is more at some time of the moon than at other some, is it not?

  JAILER She is continually in a harmless distemper: sleeps little; altogether without appetite, save often drinking; 5 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 every business withall, fits it to every question.

  Enter [Jailer’s] DAUGHTER.

  Look where she comes; you shall perceive her 10 behaviour.

  DAUGHTER I have forgot it quite. The burden on’t was ‘Down-a, down-a’ and penned by no worse man than Giraldo, Emilia’s Schoolmaster; he’s as fantastical too

  as ever he may go upon’s legs – for in the next world 15 will Dido see Palamon, and then will she be out of love with Aeneas.

  DOCTOR What stuff’s here? Poor soul!

  JAILER Even thus all day long.

  DAUGHTER Now for this charm that I told you of: you 20 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 25 but pick flowers with Proserpine. Then will I make Palamon a nosegay; then let him mark me – then.

  DOCTOR How prettily she’s amiss! Note her a little further.

  DAUGHTER Faith, I’ll tell you, sometime we go to

  30 barley-break, we of the blessed. Alas, ’tis a sore life they have i’th’ other place – such burning, frying, boiling, hissing, howling, chattering, cursing: oh, they have shrewd measure; take heed! If one be mad, or hang or drown themselves, there they go – Jupiter 35 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.

  DOCTOR How her brain coins!

  40 DAUGHTER 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 the heart, and there th’offending part burns and the deceiving part freezes. In troth, a very grievous punishment, as one 45 would think, for such a trifle. Believe me, one would marry a leprous witch to be rid on’t, I’ll assure you.

  DOCTOR How she continues this fancy! ’Tis not an engrafted madness but a most thick and profound melancholy.

  50 DAUGHTER To hear there a proud lady and a proud city wife, howl together! I were a beast an I’d call it good sport. One cries, ‘Oh, this smoke!’, another, ‘This fire!’ One cries, ‘Oh, that ever I did it behind the arras!’ and then howls; th’other curses a suing fellow 55 and her garden house.

  (Sings.)

  I will be true, my stars, my fate (etc.). Exit.

  JAILER What think you of her, sir?

  DOCTOR I think she has a perturbed mind, which I

  cannot minister to.

  60 JAILER Alas, what then?

  DOCTOR Understand you she ever affected any man ere

  she beheld Palamon?

  JAILER I was once, sir, in great hope she had fixed her

  liking on this gentleman, my friend.

  65 WOOER I did think so too, and would account I had a great penn’orth on’t, to give half my state that both she and I at this present stood unfeignedly on the same terms.

  DOCTOR That intemperate surfeit of her eye hath distempered 70 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, 75 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. 80 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 odours which are grateful to the sense. All this shall become

  85 Palamon, for Palamon can sing, and Palamon is sweet and every good thing. Desire to eat with her, carve her, drink to her and, still among, intermingle your petition of grace and acceptance into her favour. Learn what maids have been her companions and 90 play-feres 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 95 in her into their former law and regiment. I have seen it approved, how many times I know not, but to 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 100 success, which, doubt not, will bring forth comfort.

  Exeunt.

  [5.1] Flourish. Enter THESEUS, PIRITHOUS, HIPPOLYTA, attendants.

  THESEUS

  Now let ’em enter and before the gods

  Tender their holy prayers. Let the temples

  Burn bright with sacred fires and the altars

  In hallowed clouds commend their swelling incense

  5 To those above us. Let no due be wanting.

  They have a noble work in hand, will honour

  The very powers that love ’em.

  Flourish of cornets. Enter PALAMON and ARCITE and their knights.

  PIRITHOUS Sir, they enter.

  THESEUS

  You valiant and strong-hearted enemies,

  You royal german foes, that this day come

  10 To blow that nearness out that flames between ye:

  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;

  15 And, as the gods regard ye, fight with justice.

  I’ll leave you to your prayers and betwixt ye

  I part my wishes.

  PIRITHOUS Honour crown the worthiest.

  Exeunt Theseus and his train.

  PALAMON

  The glass is running now that cannot finish

  Till one of us expire. Think you but thus:

  20 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.

  25 ARCITE I am in labour

  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.