And pitch between her armes to anger thee.
PALAMON.
No more; the keeper’s comming; I shall live
To knocke thy braines out with my Shackles.
ARCITE.
Doe.
KEEPER.
By your leave, Gentlemen—
PALAMON.
Now, honest keeper?
KEEPER.
Lord Arcite, you must presently to’th Duke;
The cause I know not yet.
ARCITE.
I am ready, keeper.
KEEPER.
Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave you
Of your faire Cosens Company. [Exeunt Arcite, and Keeper.]
PALAMON.
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 notice
Both of his blood and body: But his falsehood!
Why should a friend be treacherous? If that
Get him a wife so noble, and so faire,
Let honest men ne’re love againe. Once more
I would but see this faire One. Blessed Garden,
And fruite, and flowers more blessed, that still blossom
As her bright eies shine on ye! would I were,
For all the fortune of my life hereafter,
Yon little Tree, yon blooming Apricocke;
How I would spread, and fling my wanton armes
In at her window; I would bring her fruite
Fit for the Gods to feed on: youth and pleasure
Still as she tasted should be doubled on her,
And if she be not heavenly, I would make her
So neere the Gods in nature, they should feare her,
[Enter Keeper.]
And then I am sure she would love me. How now, keeper.
Wher’s Arcite?
KEEPER.
Banishd: Prince Pirithous
Obtained his liberty; but never more
Vpon his oth and life must he set foote
Vpon this Kingdome.
PALAMON.
Hees a blessed man!
He shall see Thebs againe, and call to Armes
The bold yong men, that, when he bids ‘em charge,
Fall on like fire: Arcite shall have a Fortune,
If he dare make himselfe a worthy Lover,
Yet in the Feild to strike a battle for her;
And if he lose her then, he’s a cold Coward;
How bravely may he beare himselfe to win her
If he be noble Arcite—thousand waies.
Were I at liberty, I would doe things
Of such a vertuous greatnes, that this Lady,
This blushing virgine, should take manhood to her
And seeke to ravish me.
KEEPER.
My Lord for you
I have this charge too—
PALAMON.
To discharge my life?
KEEPER.
No, but from this place to remoove your Lordship:
The windowes are too open.
PALAMON.
Devils take ‘em,
That are so envious to me! pre’thee kill me.
KEEPER.
And hang for’t afterward.
PALAMON.
By this good light,
Had I a sword I would kill thee.
KEEPER.
Why, my Lord?
PALAMON.
Thou bringst such pelting scuruy news continually
Thou art not worthy life. I will not goe.
KEEPER.
Indeede, you must, my Lord.
PALAMON.
May I see the garden?
KEEPER.
Noe.
PALAMON.
Then I am resolud, I will not goe.
KEEPER.
I must constraine you then: and for you are dangerous,
Ile clap more yrons on you.
PALAMON.
Doe, good keeper.
Ile shake ‘em so, ye shall not sleepe;
Ile make ye a new Morrisse: must I goe?
KEEPER.
There is no remedy.
PALAMON.
Farewell, kinde window.
May rude winde never hurt thee. O, my Lady,
If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was,
Dreame how I suffer. Come; now bury me. [Exeunt Palamon, and
Keeper.]
Scaena 3. (The country near Athens.)
[Enter Arcite.]
ARCITE.
Banishd the kingdome? tis a benefit,
A mercy I must thanke ‘em for, but banishd
The free enjoying of that face I die for,
Oh twas a studdied punishment, a death
Beyond Imagination: Such a vengeance
That, were I old and wicked, all my sins
Could never plucke upon me. Palamon,
Thou ha’st the Start now, thou shalt stay and see
Her bright eyes breake each morning gainst thy window,
And let in life into thee; thou shalt feede
Vpon the sweetenes of a noble beauty,
That nature nev’r exceeded, nor nev’r shall:
Good gods! what happines has Palamon!
Twenty to one, hee’le come to speake to her,
And if she be as gentle as she’s faire,
I know she’s his; he has a Tongue will tame
Tempests, and make the wild Rockes wanton.
Come what can come,
The worst is death; I will not leave the Kingdome.
I know mine owne is but a heape of ruins,
And no redresse there; if I goe, he has her.
I am resolu’d an other shape shall make me,
Or end my fortunes. Either way, I am happy: