2 Friend. Alas, what pity 'tis ! Wooer. I made in to her;

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 stay'd,
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?

Brother. Oh, a very fine one!
Daugh. I can sing twenty more.
Brother. I think you can.

Daugh. Yes, truly can I; I can sing the Broom, And Bonny Robin. Are not you a tailor? Brother. Yes.

Daugh. Where's my wedding-gown?
Brother. I'll bring it to-morrow.

Daugh. Do, very early; I must be abroad else,
To call the maids, and pay the minstrels;
For I must lose my maidenhead by cock-light;
"Twill never thrive else...

Oh, fair, oh, sweet, &c.

[Sings.

Brother. You must ev'n take it patiently.
Jailor. 'Tis true.

Daugh. Good e'en, good men! Pray did you ever hear

Of one young Palamon?

Jailor. Yes, wench, we know him.

Duugh. Is't not a fine young gentleman ?

Juilor. 'Tis love!

For a trick that I know: You 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 Friend. 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 Friend. This is strange.

Daugh. As ever you heard; but say nothing. 1 Friend. No.

Daugh. They come from all parts of the dukedom to him:

Jailor. She's lost,

Past all cure!

Brother. Heav'n forbid, man!
Daugh. Come hither; you're a wise man.
1 Friend. Does she know him?
2 Friend. No; 'would she did!
Daugh. You're master of a ship?
Jailor. Yes.

Daugh. Where's your compass?
Jailor. 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 is fair,
Top the bowling; out with the main-sail !
Where is your whistle, master?

Brother. Let's get her in.
Jailor. Up to the top, boy.
Brother. Where's the pilot?
1 Friend. Here.

Daugh. What ken'st thou?
2 Friend. A fair wood.

Daugh. Bear for it, master; tack about. [Sings.

When Cinthia with her borrow'd light, &c.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

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 sows 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 Ganimede
Set Jove afire 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,
Arched like the great-eyed Juno's, but far

Is but his foil; to him, a mere dull shadow;
He's swarth and meagre, of an eye as heavy
As if he'd 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 woman's fancy?
I am a fool, my reason is lost in me!
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 thy 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; lie there, Arcite!
Thou art a changeling to him, a mere gipsy,
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 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, bro-
ther;

Alas, I know not! ask me, now, sweet sister;
may go look! What a mere child is fancy,
That having two fair gawds of equal sweetness,
Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both!
Enter a Gentleman.

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 these they've 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 far within him,
And as a heated lion, so he looks;

His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining

Like raven's wings; his shoulders broad, and strong;

Arms 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.

Thes. Th' hast well described him.
Per. Yet a great deal short,
Methinks, of him that's first with Palamon.
Thes. Pray speak him, friend.

Per. 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,

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 settled valour
(Not tainted with extremes) 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,

Not to undo with thunder; in his face The livery of the warlike maid appears,

attendants.

him;

Per. Oh, he that's freckle-faced?

Mess. The same, my lord:

Are they not sweet ones? Per. Yes, they're well.

Mess. Methinks,

Being so few, and well disposed, they shew Great, and fine art in Nature. He's white hair'd,

Not wanton-white, but such a manly colour Next to an auburn; tough, and nimble set, Which shews an active soul; his arms are brawny,

Lin'd with strong sinews; to the shoulder-piece Gently they swell, like women new-conceived, 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-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,
Nor takes none; he's round-faced, and when he
smiles,

He shews 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
He bears a charging-staff, emboss'd with silver.
Thes. Are they all thus ?

Per. They're all the sons of honour.

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

Fighting 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 blood, wench! it must

To

be.

Thes. You've steel'd 'em with your beauty. Honour'd friend,

you I give the field; pray order it. Fitting the persons that must use it.

Per. Yes, sir.

World, and a better; and what broken piece Of matter soe'er she's about, the name Palamon lards it; that she farces ev'ry Enter Daughter.

Business 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 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 will Dido see Palamon, And then will she be out of love with Æneas. Doctor. What stuff's here? poor soul ! Jailor. Even 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 perish'd, crack'd 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!

Doctor. How prettily she's amiss! note her a little further.

Daugh. Faith, I'll tell you; sometime we go to barley-break,

We of the bless'd: 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,
Thither they go, Jupiter bless us! and there
Shall we be put in a caldron of lead

And usurers' grease, amongst a whole million of cut-purses,

And there boil like a gammon of bacon
That will never be enough.

Doctor. 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 de-
ceiving part

Freezes: In troth, a very grievous punishment,
As one would think, for such a trifle! believe

And then howls; th' other curses a suing fellow, And her garden-house.

[Sings.] I will be true, my stars, my fate, &c. [Erit Daugh. Jailor. What think you of her, Sir? Doctor. I think she has a perturbed mind,

Which I cannot minister to.

Jailor. Alas, what then?.

For this her mind beats upon; other objects, That are inserted 'tween her mind and eye, Become the pranks and friskins of her mad

ness;

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

Are grateful to the sense: All this
Shall become 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 play-pheers; 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 are now
Out of square 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 success,
Which, doubt not, will bring forth comfort.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

Enter THESEUS, PERITHOUS, HIPPOLITA, and attendants.

Thes. Now let 'em enter, and before the gods Tender their holy prayers! let the temples Burn bright with sacred fires, and the altars In hallow'd clouds commend their swelling in

cense

To those above us! Let no due be wanting!
[Flourish of Cornets.
They have a noble work in hand, will honour
The very powers that love 'em.

Enter PALAMON, ARCITE, and their Knights.
Per. Sir, they enter.

Thes. You valiant and strong-hearted enemies, You royal germane foes, that this day come 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-fear'd gods) bow down your stubborn

bodies! Your ire is more than mortal; so your help be! And as the gods regard ye, fight with justice! I'll leave you to your prayers, and betwixt I part my wishes.

ye