Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9

Scæna Secunda

Enter Palamon, and ArciteArcite. Dear Palamon, dearer in Love than BloodAnd our prime Cosin, yet unhard'ned inThe Crimes of nature; Let us leave the CityThebs, and the temptings in't, before we furtherSully our gloss of youth,And here to keep in abstinence we shameAs in Incontinence; for not to swimI' th' aid o'th' current, were almost to sink,At least to frustrate striving, and to followThe common stream, 't would bring us to an EddyWhere we should turn or drown; if labour through,Our gain but life, and weakness.Pal. Your adviceIs cry'd up with example; what strange ruinsSince first we went to School, may we perceiveWalking in Thebs! Skars, and bare weedsThe gain o'th' Martialist, who did propoundTo his bold ends, honor, and golden Ingots,Which though he won, he had not, and now flurtedBy peace, for whom he fought, who then shall offerTo Mars's so scorn'd Altar? I doe bleedWhen such I meet, and wish great Juno wouldResume her antient fit of jealousieTo get the Soldier work, that peace might purgeFor her repletion, and retain anewHer charitable heart now hard, and harsherThan strife, or war could be.Arcite. Are you not out?Meet you no ruin, but the Soldier inThe crancks and turns of Thebs? you did beginAs if you met decaies of many kinds:Perceive you none, that do arouse your pityBut th' unconsider'd Soldier?Pal. Yes, I pityDecaies where-e'er I find them, but such mostThat sweating in an honourable toilAre paid with Ice to cool 'em.Arcite. 'Tis not thisI did begin to speak of, this is virtueOf no respect in Thebs, I spake of ThebsHow dangerous if we will keep our honors,It is for our residing, where every evilHath a good colour; where ev'ry seeming good'sA certain evil, where not to be ev'n jumpAs they are, here were to be strangers, andSuch things to be meer Monsters.Pal. 'Tis in our power,(Unless we fear that Apes can Tutor's) toBe Masters of our manners: what need IAffect anothers gate, which is not catchingWhere there is faith, or to be fond uponAnothers way of speech, when by mine ownI may be reasonably conceiv'd; sav'd too,Speaking it truly; why am I boundBy any generous bond to follow himFollows his Taylor, haply so long, untilThe follow'd, make pursuit? or let me know,Why mine own Barber is unblest, with himMy poor Chinn too, for 'tis not Cizard justTo such a Favorites glass: What Cannon is thereThat does command my Rapier from my hipTo dangle't in my hand, or to goe tip toeBefore the street be foul? either I amThe fore-horse in the Team, or I am noneThat draw i' th' sequent trace: these poor slight sores,Need not a Plantain; That which [r]ips my bosomeAlmost to th' heart's.Arcite. Our Uncle Creon.Pal. He,A most unbounded Tyrant, whose successesMakes Heaven unfear'd, and villany assuredBeyond its power: there's nothing, almost putsFaith in a Feavor, and deifies aloneVoluble chance, who only attributesThe faculties of other InstrumentsTo his own Nerves and act; Commands men service,And what they win in't, boot and glory on;That fears not to [do] harm; good, dares not; LetThe bloud of mine that's sibbe to him, be sucktFrom me with Leeches, let them break and fallOff me with that corruption.Arc. Clear spirited CosinLet's leave his Court, that we may nothing share,Of his loud infamy: for our milk,Will relish of the pasture, and we mustBe vile, or disobedient, not his kinsmenIn blood, unless in quality.Pal. Nothing truer:I think the ecchoes of his shames have deaf'tThe ears of heav'nly Justice: widdows criesDescend again into their throats, and have notDue audience of the gods: Valerius. Enter ValeriusVal. The King calls for you; yet be leaden-footedTill his great rage be off him. Phebus whenHe broke his whipstock, and exclaim'd againstThe Horses of the Sun, but whisper'd toThe loudness of his fury.Pal. Small winds shake him,But what's the matter?Val. Theseus (who where he threats appals,) hath sentDeadly defiance to him, and pronouncesRuin to Thebs, who is at hand to sealThe promise of his wrath.Arc. Let him approach:But that we fear the gods in him, he brings notA jot of terror to us; yet what manThirds his own worth (the case is each of ours)When that his actions dregg'd, with mind assur'd'Tis bad he goes about.Pal. Leave that unreason'd.Our services stand now for Thebs, not Creon,Yet to be neutral to him, were dishonor;Rebellious to oppose: therefore we mustWith him stand to the mercy of our Fate,Who hath bounded our last minute.Arc. So we must;Ist sed this wars afoot? or it shall beOn fail of some condition.Val. 'Tis in motionThe intelligence of state came in the instantWith the defier.P[a]l. Let's to the King, who, were heA quarter carrier of that honor, whichHis enemy came in, the bloud we ventureShould be as for our health, which were not spent,Rather laid out for purchase: but alasOur hands advanc'd before our hearts, what willThe fall o' th' stroke do damage?Arci. Let th' event,That never-erring Arbitrator, tell usWhen we know all our selves, and let us followThe becking of our chance.[Exeunt.

Scena Tertia

Enter Perithous, Hippolita, EmiliaPir. No further.Hip. Sir farewel; repeat my wishesTo our great Lord, of whose success I dare notMake any timerous question; yet I wish himExcess, and overflow of power, and't might beTo dure ill-dealing fortune; speed to him,Store never hurts good Governors.Pir. Though I knowHis Ocean needs not my poor drops, yet theyMust yield their tribute there: My precious Maid,Those best affections that the heavens infuseIn their best temper'd pieces, keep enthron'dIn your dear heart.Emil. Thanks Sir; remember meTo our all-Royal Brother, for whose speedThe great Bellona I'll solicite; andSince in our terrene State, petitions are notWithout gifts understood: I'll offer to herWhat I shall be advis'd she likes; our heartsAre in his Army, in his Tent.Hip. In's bosom:We have been Soldiers, and we cannot weepWhen our Friends do'n their helms, or put to Sea,Or tell of Babes broach'd on the Launce, or WomenThat have sod their Infants in (and after eat them)The brine, they wept at killing 'em; Then ifYou stay to see of us such Spinsters, weShould hold you here for ever.Pir. Peace be to youAs I pursue this war, which shall be thenBeyond further requiring.[Exit Pir.Emil. How his longingFollows his friend; since his depart, his sportsThough craving seriousness, and skill, past slightlyHis careless execution, where nor gainMade him regard, or loss consider, butPlaying o'er business in his hand, anotherDirecting in his head, his mind, nurse equalTo these so diff'ring Twins; have you observ'd him,Since our great Lord departed?Hip. With much labour:And I did love him for't, they two have Cabin'dIn many as dangerous, as poor a corner,Peril and want contending, they have skiftTorrents, whose roaring tyranny and powerI'th' least of these was dreadful, and they haveFought out together, where Death's-self was lodg'd,Yet Fate hath brought them off: their knot of loveTi'd, weav'd, intangl'd, with so true, so long,And with a finger of so deep a cunningMay be out-worn, never undone. I thinkTheseus cannot be umpire to himselfCleaving his conscience into twain, and doingEach side like Justice, which he loves best.Emil. DoubtlessThere is a best, and reason has no mannersTo say it is not you: I was acquaintedOnce with a time, when I enjoy'd a Play-fellow;You were at wars, when she the grave enrich'd,Who made too proud the Bed, took leave o' th' Moon(Which then lookt pale at parting) when our countWas each eleven.Hip. 'Twas Flavia.[Two Hearses ready with Palamon, and Arcite: The three Queens. Theseus, and his Lords ready.Emil. Yes,You talk of Pirithous and Theseus love;Theirs has more ground, is more maturely season'd,More buckled with strong judgement, and their needsThe one of th' other may be said to waterTheir intertangled roots of love, but IAnd she (I sigh and spoke of) were things innocent,Lov'd for we did, and like the ElementsThat know not what, nor why, yet do effectRare issues by their operance; our soulsDid so to one another; what she lik'd,Was then of me approv'd, what not condemn'dNo more arraignment, the flower that I would pluckAnd put between my breasts, oh (then but beginningTo swell about the blossom) she would longTill she had such another, and commit itTo the like innocent Cradle, where Phenix-likeThey di'd in perfume: on my head no toyBut was her pattern, her affections prettyThough happily, her careless, were, I followedFor my most serious decking, had mine earStol'n some new air, or at adventure humm'd onFrom musical Coynage, why, it was a NoteWhereon her spirits would sojourn (rather dwell on)And sing it in her slumbers; This rehearsal(Which fury innocent wots well) comes inLike old importments-bastard, has this end;That the true love 'tween Maid, and Maid, may beMore than in sex individual.Hip. Y'are out of breathAnd this high speeded-pace, is but to sayThat you shall never (like the Maid Flavina)Love any that's call'd Man.Emil. I'm sure I shall not.Hip. Now alack weak Sister,I must no more believe thee in this point(Though in't I know thou dost believe thy self)Then I will trust a sickly appetite,That loaths even as it longs, but sure my SisterIf I were ripe for your perswasion, youHave said enough to shake me from the ArmOf the all noble Theseus, for whose fortunes,I will now in, and kneel with great assurance,That we, more than his Pirathous, possessThe high Throne in his heart.E[m]il. I am not against your faith,Yet I continue mine.[Exeunt Cornets.

Scena Quarta

A Battel struck within: then a Retreat: Florish. Then Enter Theseus (victor) the three Queens meet him, and fall on their faces before him1 Qu. To thee no Star be dark.2 Qu. Both Heaven and EarthFriend thee for ever.3 Qu. All the good that mayBe wish'd upon thy head, I cry Amen to't.Thes. Th'impartial gods, who from the mounted heavensView us their mortal Herd, behold who erre,And in their time chastise: goe and find outThe bones of your dead Lords, and honor themWith treble ceremony, rather than a gapShould be in their dear rights, we would supply't.But those we will depute, which shall investYou in your dignities, and even each thingOur haste does leave imperfect; So adieuAnd heavens good eyes look on you, what are those?[Exeunt Queens.Herald. Men of great quality, as may be judg'dBy their appointment; some of Thebs have told'sThey are Sisters children, Nephews to the King.Thes. By th' Helme of Mars, I saw them in the War,Like to a pair of Lions, smear'd with prey,Make lanes in troops agast. I fixt my noteConstantly on them; for they were a markWorth a god's view: what prisoner was't that told meWhen I enquir'd their names?Herald. We leave, they'r calledArcite and Palamon.Thes. 'Tis right, those, thoseThey are not dead?[Three Hearses ready.Her. Nor in a state of life, had they been takenWhen their last hurts were given, 'twas possibleThey might have been recover'd; Yet they breatheAnd have the name of men.Thes. Then like men use 'emThe very lees of such (millions of rates)Exceed the Wine of others, all our SurgeonsConvent in their behoof, our richest balmesRather than niggard waste, their lives concern us,Much more than Thebs is worth, rather than have 'emFreed of this plight, and in their morning state(Sound and at liberty) I would 'em dead,But forty thousand fold, we had rather have 'emPrisoners to us, than death; bear 'em speedilyFrom our kind air, to them unkind, and ministerWhat man to man may do for our sake more,Since I have known frights, fury, friends, beheasts,Loves, provocations, zeal, a Mistriss taske,Desire of liberty, a feavor, madness,Hath set a mark which nature could not reach tooWithout some imposition, sickness in WillOr wrestling strength in reason, for our LoveAnd great Apollos mercy, all our best,Their best [skill] tender. Lead into the City,Where having bound things scatter'd, we will post.[Florish.To Athens for o[u]r Army.[Exeunt. Musick.

Scena Quinta

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

Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima

Enter Jaylor and WooerJail.I may depart with little, while I live, something IMay cast to you, not much: Alas the Prison IKeep, though it be for great ones, yet they seldomCome; before one Salmon, you shall take a numberOf Minnows: I am given out to be better lin'dThan it can appear, to me report is a trueSpeaker: I would I were really, that I amDeliver'd to be: Marry, what I have (be it whatIt will) I will assure upon my daughter atThe day of my death.Wooer. Sir, I demand no more than your own offer,And I will estate your Daughter, in what IHave promised.Jail. Well, we will talk more of this, when the solemnityIs past; But have you a full promise of her?Enter DaughterWhen that shall be seen, I tender my consent.Wooer. I have Sir; here she comes.Jail. Your friend and I have chanced to nameYou here, upon the old business: but no more of that.Now, so soon as the Court-hurry is over, we willHave an end of it: I' th' mean time look tenderlyTo the two prisoners. I can tell you they are Princes.Daugh. These strewings are for their Chamber; 'tis pity theyAre in prison, and 'twere pity they should be out: IDo think they have patience to make any adversityAsham'd; the prison it self is proud of 'em; andThey have all the world in their Chamber.Jail. They are fam'd to be a pair of absolute men.Daugh. By my troth, I think Fame but stammers 'em, theyStand a grief above the reach of report.Jail. I heard them reported in the battel, to be the only doers.Daugh. Nay, most likely, for they are noble sufferers; IMarvel how they would have look'd, had they beenVictors, that with such a constant Nobility, enforceA freedom out of bondage, making misery theirMirth, and affliction a toy to jest at.Jail. Doe they so?Daugh. It seems to me, they have no more sence of theirCaptivity, than I of ruling Athens: they eatWell, look merrily, discourse of many things,But nothing of their own restraint, and disasters:Yet sometime a divided sigh, martyr'd as 'twereI' th' deliverance, will break from one of them,When the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke,That I could wish my self a sigh to be so chid,Or at least a sigher to be comforted.Wooer. I never saw 'em.Jail. The Duke himself came privately in the night. Enter Palamon, and Arcite aboveAnd so did they, what the reason of it is, IKnow not: Look, yonder they are; that'sArcite looks out.Daugh. No Sir, no, that's Palamon: Arcite is theLower of the twain; you may perceive a partOf him.Jail. Go to, leave your pointing; they would notMake us their object; out of their sight.Daugh. It is a holliday to look on them: Lord, theDifference of men.[Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda

Enter Palamon, and Arcite in prisonPal. How do you, Noble Cosin?Arcite. How do you, Sir?Pal. Why, strong enough to laugh at misery,And bear the chance of war yet, we are prisonersI fear for ever Cosin.Arcite. I believe it,And to that destiny have patientlyLaid up my hour to come.Pal. Oh Cosin Arcite,Where is Thebs now? where is our noble Countrey?Where are our friends, and kindreds? never moreMust we behold those comforts, never seeThe hardy youths strive for the Games of honor(Hung with the painted favours of their Ladies)Like tall Ships under Sail: then start amongst 'emAnd as an Eastwind leave 'em all behind us,Like lazy Clouds, whilst Palamon and Arcite,Even in the wagging of a wanton legOut-stript the peoples praises, won the Garlands,E'r they have time to wish 'em ours. Oh neverShall we two exercise, like twins of honor,Our Arms again, and feel our fiery horses,Like proud Seas under us, our good Swords, now(Better the red-ey'd god of War nev'r were)Bravish'd our sides, like age, must run to rust,And deck the Temples of those gods that hate us,These hands shall never draw 'em out like light'ningTo blast whole Armies more.Arcite. No Palamon,Those hopes are prisoners with us, here we areAnd here the graces of our youths must witherLike a too-timely Spring; here age must find us,And which is heaviest (Palamon) unmarried,The sweet embraces of a loving wifeLoaden with kisses, arm'd with thousand CupidsShall never claspe our necks, no issue know us,No figures of our selves shall we ev'r see,To glad our age, and like young Eagles teach 'emBoldly to gaze against bright arms, and sayRemember what your Fathers were, and conquer.The fair-ey'd Maids, shall weep our banishments,And in their Songs, curse ever-blinded fortuneTill she for shame see what a wrong she has doneTo youth and nature; This is all our world;We shall know nothing here, but one another,Hear nothing, but the clock that tels our woes.The Vine shall grow, but we shall never see it:Summer shall come, and with her all delights;But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still.Pal. 'Tis too true Arcite. To our Theban hounds,That shook the aged Forrest with their ecchoes,No more now must we hollo, no more shakeOur pointed Javelins, whilst the angry SwineFlies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,Struck with our well-steel'd Darts: All valiant uses,(The food and nourishment of noble minds,)In us two here shall perish; we shall die(Which is the curse of honor) lastly,Children of grief, and Ignorance.Arc. Yet Cosin,Even from the bottom of these miseriesFrom all that fortune can inflict upon us,I see two comforts rising, two meer blessings,If the gods please, to hold here a brave patience,And the enjoying of our griefs together.Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perishIf I think this our prison.Pala. Certainly,'Tis a main goodness, Cosin, that our fortunesWere twin'd together; 'tis most true, two soulsPut in two noble bodies, let 'em sufferThe gaul of hazard, so they grow together,Will never sink, they must not, say they could,A willing man dies sleeping, and all's done.Arc. Shall we make worthy uses of this placeThat all men hate so much?Pal. How gentle Cosin?Arc. Let's think this prison, Holy Sanctuary,To keep us from corruption of worse men,We are young, and yet desire the wayes of honour,That liberty and common conversation,The poison of pure spirits, might, like women,Wooe us to wander from. What worthy blessingCan be but our imaginationsMay make it ours? And here being thus together,We are an endless mine to one another;We are one anothers Wife, ever begettingNew births of love; we are Father, Friends, Acquaintance,We are, in one another, Families,I am your Heir, and you are mine: This placeIs our Inheritance: no hard oppressorDare take this from us; here with a little patienceWe shall live long, and loving: No surfeits seek us:The hand of War hurts none here, nor the SeasSwallow their youth: were we at liberty,A Wife might part us lawfully, or business,Quarrels consume us: Envy of ill menCrave our acquaintance, I might sicken Cosin,Where you should never know it, and so perishWithout your noble hand to close mine eyes,Or prayers to the gods; a thousand chancesWere we from hence, would sever us.Pal. You have made me(I thank you Cosin Arcite) almost wantonWith my Captivity: what a miseryIt is to live abroad! and every where:'Tis like a Beast me thinks: I find the Court here,I 'm sure a more content, and all those pleasuresThat wooe the Wills of men to vanity,I see through now; and am sufficientTo tell the world, 'tis but a gaudy shadow,That old Time, as he passes by, takes with him,What had we been old in the Court of Creon,Where sin is Justice, Lust, and Ignorance,The virtues of the great ones: Cosin ArciteHad not the loving gods found this place for usWe had di'd as they doe, ill old men unwept,And had their Epitaphs, the peoples Curses,Shall I say more?Arc. I would hear you still.Pal. Ye shall.Is there record of any two that lov'dBetter than we two Arcite?Arc. Sure there cannot.Pal. I doe not think it possible our friendshipShould ever leave us.Arc. Till our deaths it cannot. Enter Emilia and her WomanAnd after death our spirits shall be ledTo those that love eternally. Speak on Sir.This Garden has a world of pleasures in't.Emil. What Flower is this?Wom. 'Tis call'd Narcissus, Madam.Emil. That was a fair Boy certain, but a fool,To love himself, were there not Maids enough?Arc. Pray forward.Pal. Yes.Emil. Or were they all hard-hearted?Wom. They could not be to one so fair.Emil. Thou wouldst not.Wom. I think I should not, Madam.Emil. That's a good wench:But take heed to your kindness though.Wom. Why Madam?Emil. Men are mad things.Arcite. Will ye go forward, Cosin?Emil. Canst not thou work such Flowers in Silk wench?Wom. Yes.Emil. I'll have a Gown full of 'em, and of these,This is a pretty colour, wil't not doRarely upon a skirt wench?Wom. Dainty Madam.Arc. Cosin, Cosin, how do you, Sir? Why Palamon?Pal. Never till now, I was in prison Arcite.Arc. Why, what's the matter man?Pal. Behold, and wonder.By heaven she is a Goddess.Arcite. Ha.Pal. Do reverence.She is a Goddess Arcite.Emil. Of all Flowers,Methinks a Rose is best.Wom. Why gentle Madam?Emil. It is the very Emblem of a Maid.For when the West wind courts her gentlyHow modestly she blows, and paints the Sun,With her chaste blushes! When the North comes near her,Rude and impatient, then like ChastityShe locks her beauties in her bud again,And leaves him to base briers.Wom. Yet good Madam,Sometimes her modesty will blow so farShe falls for't: a MaidIf she have any honor, would be lothTo take example by her.Emil. Thou art wanton.Arc. She is wondrous fair.Pal. She is all the beauty extant.Emil. The Sun grows high, let's walk in, keep these flowers,We'll see how near Art can come near their colours;I'm wondrous merry-hearted, I could laugh now.Wom. I could lie down I am sure.Emil. And take one with you?Wom. That's as we bargain, Madam.Emil. Well, agree then.[Exeunt Emilia and Woman.Pal. What think you of this beauty?Arc. 'Tis a rare one.Pal. Is't but a rare one?Arc. Yes, a matchless beauty.Pal. Might not a man well lose himself, and love her?Arc. I cannot tell what you have done, I have,Beshrew mine eyes for't, now I feel my Shackles.Pal. You love her then?Arc. Who would not?Pal. And desire her?Arc. Before my liberty.Pal. I saw her first.Arc. That's nothing.Pal. But it shall be.Arc. I saw her too.Pal. Yes, but you must not love her.Arc. I will not as you do; to worship her;As she is heavenly, and a blessed goddess;(I love her as a woman, to enjoy her)So both may love.Pal. You shall not love at all.Arc. Not love at all;Who shall denie me?Pal. I that first saw her; I that took possessionFirst with mine eye of all those beautiesIn her reveal'd to mankind: if thou lov'st her;Or entertain'st a hope to blast my wishes,Thou art a Traitor Arcite, and a fellowFalse as thy Title to her: friendship, bloudAnd all the ties between us I disclai[m]If thou once think upon her.Arc. Yes, I love her,And if the lives of all my name lay on it,I must do so, I love her with my soul,If that will lose ye, farewel Palamon.I say again, I love, and in loving her, maintainI am as worthy and as free a LoverAnd have as just a title to her beautyAs any Palamon, or any livingThat is a mans Son.Pal. Have I call'd thee friend?Arc. Yes, and have found me so; why are you mov'd thus?Let me deal coldly with you, am not IPart of your blood, part of your soul? you have told meThat I was Palamon, and you were Arcite.Pal. Yes.Arc. Am not I liable to those affections,Those joyes, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer?Pal. Ye may be.Arc. Why then would you deal so cunningly,So strangely, so unlike a Noble KinsmanTo love alone? speak truly, do you think meUnworthy of her sight?Pal. No, but unjust,If thou pursue that [si]ght.Arc. Because anotherFirst sees the Enemy, shall I stand stillAnd let mine honor down, and never charge?Pal. Yes, if he be but one.Arc. But say that oneHad rather combat me?Pal. Let that one say so,And use thy freedom: else if thou pursuest her,Be as that cursed man that hates his Countrey,A branded villain.Arc. You are mad.Pal. I must be.Till thou art worthy, Arcite, it concerns me,And in this madness, if I hazard theeAnd take thy life, I deal but truly.Arc. Fie Sir.You play the child extreamly: I will love her,I must, I ought to do so, and I dare,And all this justly.Pal. Oh that now, that nowThy false-self, and thy friend, had but this fortuneTo be one hour at liberty, and graspeOur good swords in our hands, I would quickly teach theeWhat 'twere to filch affection from another:Thou art baser in it than a Cutpurse;Put but thy head out of this window more,And as I have a soul, I'll nail thy life to't.Arc. Thou dar'st not fool, thou canst not, thou art feeble.Put my head out? I'll throw my Body out,And leap the Garden, when I see her next.Enter KeeperAnd pitch between her Arms to anger thee.Pal. No more; the Keepers coming; I shall liveTo knock thy brains out with my Shackles.Arc. Doe.Keep. By your leave, Gentlemen.Pala. Now honest Keeper?Keep. Lord Arcite, you must presently to th' Duke;The cause I know not yet.Arc. I am ready Keeper.Keep. Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave youOf your fair Cosins company.[Exeunt Arcite, and Keeper.Pal. And me too,Even when you please of life; why is he sent for?It may be he shall marry her, he's goodly,And like enough the Duke hath taken noticeBoth of his Bloud and Body: but his falshood,Why should a friend be treacherous? if thatGet him a Wife so noble, and so fair;Let honest men ne'er love again. Once moreI would but see this fair one: blessed Garden,And Fruit, and Flowers more blessed that still blossomAs her bright eies shine on ye. Would I wereFor all the fortune of my life hereafterYon little Tree, yon blooming Apricock;How I would spread, and fling my wanton armsIn at her window; I would bring her fruitFit for the gods to feed on: youth and pleasureStill as she tasted should be doubled on her,And if she be not heavenly, I would make herSo near the gods in nature, they should fear her.Enter KeeperAnd then I'm sure she would love me: how now Keeper,Where's Arcite?Keep. Banish'd: Prince PirithousObtain'd his liberty; but never moreUpon his oath and life must he set footUpon this Kingdom.Pal. He's a blessed man,He shall see Thebes again, and call to ArmsThe bold young men, that when he bids 'em charge,Fall on like fire: Arcite shall have a Fortune,If he dare make himself a worthy Lover,Yet in the Field to strike a battel for her;And if he lose her then, he's a cold Coward;How bravely may he bear himself to win herIf he be noble Arcite; thousand ways.Were I at liberty, I would do thingsOf such a virtuous greatness, that this Lady,This blushing Virgin should take manhood to herAnd seek to ravish me.Keep. My Lord for youI have this charge too.Pal. To discharge my life.Keep. No, but from this place to remove your Lordship,The windows are too open.Pal. Devils take 'emThat are so envious to me; prethee kill me.Keep. And hang for't afterward.Pal. By this good lightHad I a sword I would kill thee.Keep. Why my Lord?Pal. Thou bring'st such pelting scurvy news continuallyThou art not worthy life; I will not go.Keep. Indeed you must my Lord.Pal. May I see the Garden?Keep. No.Pal. Then I am resolv'd, I will not go.Keep. I must constrain you then: and, for you are dangerousI'll clap more irons on you.Pal. Doe good Keeper.I'll shake 'em so, ye shall not sleep,I'll make ye a new Morri[ss]e, must I goe?Keep. There is no remedy.Pal. Farewel kind window.May rude wind never hurt thee. Oh my Lady,If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was,Dream how I suffer. Come; now bury me.[Exeunt Palamon and Keeper.