ROSES, their sharp spines being gone, Not royal in their smells alone, But in their hue; Maiden-pinks, of odour faint ; Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint, And sweet thyme true.
Primrose, first-born child of Ver, Merry spring-time's harbinger, With her bells dim ; Oxlips in their cradles growing, Marigolds on death-beds blowing, Lark-heels trim.
Enter three Queens, in black, with veils stained, with imperial crowns. The first Queen falls down at the foot of THESEUS; the second falls down at the foot of HIPPOLITA; the third be- fore EMILIA.
Hear and respect me! 1 Queen. For pity's sake, and true gentility's,
2 Queen. For your mother's sake, And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair
3 Queen. Now for the love of him whom Jove hath mark'd
The honour 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' the book of trespasses All you are set down there.
Thes. Sad lady, rise.
Hip. Stand up.
Emi. No knees to me! What woman I May sted, that is distress'd, does bind me to her. Thes. What's your request? Deliver you, for all. 1 Queen. We are three Queens, whose sove- reigns fell before
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 the offence [Strew flowers. Of mortal loathsomeness from the blest eye Of holy Phoebus, but infects the winds
All dear Nature's children sweet, Lye 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet, Blessing their sense!
Not an angel of the air,
Bird melodious, or bird fair,
Be absent hence!
With stench of our slain lords. Oh, pity, duke ! Thou purger of the earth, draw thy fear'd sword, That does good turns to the world; give us the
Of our dead kings, that we may chapel them! And, of thy boundless goodness, take some note, That for our crowned heads we have no roof Save this, which is the lion's and the bear's, And vault to every thing!
Thes. Pray you kneel not. I was transported with your speech, and suffer'd Your knees to wrong themselves. I've heard the fortunes
Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting As wakes my vengeance and revenge for them. 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 thresh'd, nor blasted; Fortune at
Dimpled her cheek with smiles; Hercules our kinsman
(Then weaker than your eyes) laid by his club, He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide, And swore his sinews thaw'd: Oh, grief and time,
Fearful consumers, you will all devour!
1 Queen. Oh, I hope some god,
Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood, Whereto he'll infuse power, and press you forth Our undertaker!
3 Queen. Oh, my petition was
[Kneels to EMILIA. Set down in ice, which, by hot grief uncandied, Melts into drops; so sorrow, wanting form, Is press'd with deeper matter, Emi. Pray stand up;
Your grief is written in your cheek, 3 Queen. Oh, woe!
You cannot read it there; here through my tears, Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream, You may behold them! Lady, lady, alack, He that will all the treasure know o' the earth Must know the centre too; he that will fish For my least minnow, let him lead his line To catch one at my heart. Oh, pardon me! Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits, Makes me a fool.
Emi. Pray you, say nothing; pray you! Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in't, Knows neither wet nor dry. If that you were The ground-piece of some painter, I would buy
To 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!
Thes. Oh, no knees, none, widow! Unto the helmeted Bellona use them, And pray for me, your soldier.-Troubled I am. [Turns away. 2 Queen. Honour'd Hippolita, Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slain The scithe-tusk'd boar; that, with thy arm as O' the sacred ceremony.
As it is white, wast near to make the male To thy sex captive; but that this thy lard (Born to uphold creation in that honour First Nature styled it in) shrunk thee into
Thes. Forward to the temple: leave not out a jot
1 Queen. Oh, this celebration
Will longer last, and be more costly, than Your suppliants' war! Remember that your fame Knolls in the ear o' the world: What you do quickly
The bound thou wast o'er-flowing, at once sub- Is not done rashly; your first thought is more Than others' labour'd meditance; your premedi
Thy force, and thy affection; soldieress, That equally canst poise sternness with pity, Who now, I know, hast much more power on him Than e'er he had on thee; who owest his strength, And his love too, who is a servant to 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 pluck'd off!
Tell him, if he i'the blood-sized field lay swoln, Showing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon, What you would do!
Hip. Poor lady, say no more!
I had as lief trace this good action with you As that whereto I'm 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.
More than their actions; but, (oh, Jove!) your
Soon as they move, as osprays do the fish, Subdue before they touch: think, dear duke, think
What beds our slain kings have!
2 Queen. What griefs our beds, That our dear lords have none !
3 Queen. None fit for the dead 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,
1 Queen. But our lords Lie blistering 'fore the visitating sun, And were good kings when living. Thes. It is true;
And I will give you comfort, To give your dead lords graves :
The which to do must make some work with
1 Queen. And that work now presents itself to
Now 'twill take form; the heats are gone to- | She makes it in, from henceforth I'll not dare
Thes. Why, good ladies,
This is a service, whereto I am going, Greater than any war; it more imports me Than all the actions that I have foregone, Or futurely can cope.
1 Queen. The more proclaiming Our suit shall be neglected: When her arms, Able to lock Jove from a synod, shall By warranting moon-light corslet thee, oh, when Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall Upon thy tasteful lips, what wilt thou think Of rotten kings, or blubber'd queens? what care For what thou feel'st not, what thou feel'st being able
To make Mars spurn his drum? Oh, if thou couch But one night with her, every hour in't will Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and Thou shalt remember nothing more than what That banquet bids thee to.
Hip. Though much unlike
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 ay their vigour 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.
All Queens. Oh, help now!
Our cause cries for your knee.
Emi. If you grant not
My sister her petition, in that force, With that celerity and nature, which
To ask you any thing, nor be so hardy Ever to take a husband.
Thes. Pray stand up;
I am entreating of myself to do
That which you kneel to have me. Perithous, Lead on the bride! Get you, and pray the gods For success and return; omit not any thing In the pretended celebration. Queens, Follow your soldier (as before); hence you, 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 look'd.-Since that our theme is haste,
I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip; Sweet, keep it as my token. Set you forward; For I will see you gone.
[Exeunt towards the Temple. Farewell, my beauteous sister! Perithous, Keep the feast full; bate not an hour on't! Per. Sir,
I'll follow you at heels: the feast's solemnity Shall want till your return.
Thes. Cousin, I charge you
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! 1 Queen. Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o' the world.
2 Queen. And earn'st a deity equal with Mars. 3 Queen. If not above him; for, Thou being but mortal, mak'st affections bend To godlike honours; they themselves, some say, Groan under such a mastery.
Thus should we do; being sensually subdued, We lose our humane title. Good cheer, ladies!
Now turn we tow'rds your comforts.
Enter PALAMON and ARCITE.
Arc. Dear Palamon, dearer in love than blood, And our prime cousin, yet unharden'd 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' the head o' the 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 labour through,
Our gain but life, and weakness.
Pal. Your advice
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' the martialist, who did propound To his bold ends, honour, and golden ingots,
Which, though he won, he had not; and now | Off me with that corruption !
By peace, for whom he fought! Who then shall
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.
Arc. Are you not out?
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 : Perceive you none that do arouse your pity, But th' unconsider❜d soldier ?
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 honours, It is for our residing; where every evil Hath a good colour; where every seeming good's A certain evil; where not to be even jump As they are, here were to be strangers, and Such things to be mere monsters.
Pal. It is in our power (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 follow'd make pursuit? Or let me know, Why mine own barber is unbless'd, with him My poor chin too, for 'tis not scissar'd just To such a favourite's glass? What canon is there That does command my rapier from my hip, To dangle't in my hand, or to go tip-toe Before the street be foul? Either I am The fore-horse in the team, or I am none That draw i'the sequent trace. These poor slight
Val. The king calls for you; yet be leadenfooted,
Till his great rage be off him! Phœbus, when He broke his whipstock, and exclaim'd against The horses of the sun, but whisper'd, to The loudness of his fury.
Pal. Small winds shake him;
But what's the matter?
Val. Theseus (who where he threats appals) hath sent
Deadly defiance to him, and pronounces Ruin to Thebes; who is at hand to seal The promise of his wrath.
Arc. Let him approach!
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 dregg'd with mind assured 'Tis bad he goes about?
Pal. Leave that unreason'd
Our services stand now for Thebes, not Creon. Yet, to be neutral to him, were dishonour, Rebellious to oppose; therefore we must With him stand to the mercy of our fate, Who hath bounded our last minute.
His ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they Must yield their tribute there. My precious maid, Those best affections that the heav'ns infuse In their best-temper'd pieces, keep enthroned In your dear heart!
Emi. Thanks, sir. Remember me 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 eat them) The brine they wept at killing 'em: Then if You stay to see of us such spinsters, we Should hold you here for ever.
Per. Peace be to you,
As I pursue this war! which shall be then Beyond further requiring.
Emi. How his longing
Follows his friend! Since his depart, his sports, Though craving seriousness and skill, past slightly His careless execution, where nor gain Made him regard, or loss consider; but Playing o'er 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?
Hip. With much labour,
And I did love him for't. They two have cabin'd In many as dangerous, as poor a corner, Peril and want contending, they have skift 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 out-worn, 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. Emi. Doubtless,
There is a best, and reason has no manners To say it is not you. I was acquainted Once with a time, when I enjoy'd a playfellow; You were at wars when she the grave enrich'd, Who made too proud the bed, took leave o' the
Theirs has more ground, is more maturely season'd,
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, condemn'd, No more arraignment; the flower that I would pluck
And put between my breasts, (oh, then but begin- ning
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 happily her careless wear) I follow'd For my most serious decking; had mine ear Stolen some new air, or at adventure humm'd 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 surely innocence 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 dividual.
Hip. You're out of breath; And this high-speeded pace is but to say, That you shall never, like the maid Flavina, Love any that's call'd man.
Emi. I am 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 thyself) Than I will trust a sickly appetite, That loaths 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 Perithous, possess The high throne in his heart.
Against your faith; yet I continue mine.
« AnteriorContinuar » |