William Shakespeare - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

That thus mistakes, the which to you being enemy,

Cannot to me be kind: honor, and honestie

I cherish, and depend on, how so ev’r

You skip them in me, and with them, faire Coz,

Ile maintaine my proceedings; pray, be pleas’d

To shew in generous termes your griefes, since that

Your question’s with your equall, who professes

To cleare his owne way with the minde and Sword

Of a true Gentleman.

PALAMON.

That thou durst, Arcite!

ARCITE.

My Coz, my Coz, you have beene well advertis’d

How much I dare, y’ave seene me use my Sword

Against th’advice of feare: sure, of another

You would not heare me doubted, but your silence

Should breake out, though i’th Sanctuary.

PALAMON.

Sir,

I have seene you move in such a place, which well

Might justifie your manhood; you were calld

A good knight and a bold; But the whole weeke’s not faire,

If any day it rayne: Their valiant temper

Men loose when they encline to trecherie,

And then they fight like coupelld Beares, would fly

Were they not tyde.

ARCITE.

Kinsman, you might as well

Speake this and act it in your Glasse, as to

His eare which now disdaines you.

PALAMON.

Come up to me,

Quit me of these cold Gyves, give me a Sword,

Though it be rustie, and the charity

Of one meale lend me; Come before me then,

A good Sword in thy hand, and doe but say

That Emily is thine: I will forgive

The trespasse thou hast done me, yea, my life,

If then thou carry’t, and brave soules in shades

That have dyde manly, which will seeke of me

Some newes from earth, they shall get none but this,

That thou art brave and noble.

ARCITE.

Be content:

Againe betake you to your hawthorne house;

With counsaile of the night, I will be here

With wholesome viands; these impediments

Will I file off; you shall have garments and

Perfumes to kill the smell o’th prison; after,

When you shall stretch your selfe and say but, ‘Arcite,

I am in plight,’ there shall be at your choyce

Both Sword and Armour.

PALAMON.

Oh you heavens, dares any

So noble beare a guilty busines! none

But onely Arcite, therefore none but Arcite

In this kinde is so bold.

ARCITE.

Sweete Palamon.

PALAMON.

I doe embrace you and your offer,—for

Your offer doo’t I onely, Sir; your person,

Without hipocrisy I may not wish [Winde hornes of Cornets.]

More then my Swords edge ont.

ARCITE.

You heare the Hornes;

Enter your Musite least this match between’s

Be crost, er met: give me your hand; farewell.

Ile bring you every needfull thing: I pray you,

Take comfort and be strong.

PALAMON.

Pray hold your promise;

And doe the deede with a bent brow: most certaine

You love me not, be rough with me, and powre

This oile out of your language; by this ayre,

I could for each word give a Cuffe, my stomach

Not reconcild by reason.

ARCITE.

Plainely spoken,

Yet pardon me hard language: when I spur [Winde hornes.]

My horse, I chide him not; content and anger

In me have but one face. Harke, Sir, they call

The scatterd to the Banket; you must guesse

I have an office there.

PALAMON.

Sir, your attendance

Cannot please heaven, and I know your office

Vnjustly is atcheev’d.

ARCITE.

If a good title,

I am perswaded this question sicke between’s

By bleeding must be cur’d. I am a Suitour,

That to your Sword you will bequeath this plea

And talke of it no more.

PALAMON.

But this one word:

You are going now to gaze upon my Mistris,

For note you, mine she is—

ARCITE.

Nay, then.

PALAMON.

Nay, pray you,

You talke of feeding me to breed me strength:

You are going now to looke upon a Sun

That strengthens what it lookes on; there

You have a vantage ore me, but enjoy’t till

I may enforce my remedy. Farewell. [Exeunt.]

Scaena 2. (Another Part of the forest.)

[Enter Iaylors daughter alone.]

DAUGHTER.

He has mistooke the Brake I meant, is gone

After his fancy. Tis now welnigh morning;

No matter, would it were perpetuall night,

And darkenes Lord o’th world. Harke, tis a woolfe:

In me hath greife slaine feare, and but for one thing

I care for nothing, and that’s Palamon.

I wreake not if the wolves would jaw me, so

He had this File: what if I hallowd for him?

I cannot hallow: if I whoop’d, what then?

If he not answeard, I should call a wolfe,

And doe him but that service. I have heard

Strange howles this livelong night, why may’t not be

They have made prey of him? he has no weapons,

He cannot run, the Iengling of his Gives

Might call fell things to listen, who have in them

A sence to know a man unarmd, and can

Smell where resistance is. Ile set it downe

He’s torne to peeces; they howld many together

And then they fed on him: So much for that,

Be bold to ring the Bell; how stand I then?

All’s char’d when he is gone. No, no, I lye,

My Father’s to be hang’d for his escape;

My selfe to beg, if I prizd life so much

As to deny my act, but that I would not,

Should I try death by dussons.—I am mop’t,

Food tooke I none these two daies,

Sipt some water. I have not closd mine eyes

Save when my lids scowrd off their brine; alas,

Dissolue my life, Let not my sence unsettle,

Least I should drowne, or stab or hang my selfe.

O state of Nature, faile together in me,

Since thy best props are warpt! So, which way now?

The best way is the next way to a grave:

Each errant step beside is torment. Loe,

The Moone is down, the Cryckets chirpe, the Schreichowle

Calls in the dawne; all offices are done

Save what I faile in: But the point is this,

An end, and that is all. [Exit.]

Scaena 3. (Same as Scene I.) [Enter Arcite, with Meate, Wine, and Files.]

ARCITE.

I should be neere the place: hoa, Cosen Palamon. [Enter

Palamon.]

PALAMON.

Arcite?

ARCITE.

The same: I have brought you foode and files.

Come forth and feare not, here’s no Theseus.

PALAMON.

Nor none so honest, Arcite.

ARCITE.

That’s no matter,

Wee’l argue that hereafter: Come, take courage;

You shall not dye thus beastly: here, Sir, drinke;

I know you are faint: then ile talke further with you.

PALAMON.

Arcite, thou mightst now poyson me.

ARCITE.

I might,

But I must feare you first: Sit downe, and, good, now

No more of these vaine parlies; let us not,

Having our ancient reputation with us,

Make talke for Fooles and Cowards. To your health, &c.

PALAMON.

Doe.

ARCITE.

Pray, sit downe then; and let me entreate you,

By all the honesty and honour in you,

No mention of this woman: t’will disturbe us;

We shall have time enough.

PALAMON.

Well, Sir, Ile pledge you.

ARCITE.

Drinke a good hearty draught; it breeds good blood, man.

Doe not you feele it thaw you?

PALAMON.

Stay, Ile tell you after a draught or two more.

ARCITE.

Spare it not, the Duke has more, Cuz: Eate now.

PALAMON.

Yes.

ARCITE.

I am glad you have so good a stomach.

PALAMON.

I am gladder I have so good meate too’t.

ARCITE.

Is’t not mad lodging here in the wild woods, Cosen?

PALAMON.

Yes, for them that have wilde Consciences.

ARCITE.