 | The Two Noble Kinsmen |  |
Scæna Prima.
Enter Arcite alone.Arcite.
The Duke has lost Hypolita; Each took
A severall land. This is a solemn Right
They owe bloom'd May, and the Athenians pay it
To'th' heart of Ceremony: O Queen Emilia
Fresher than May, sweeter
Then her gold Buttons on the bows, or all
Th'enamell'd knacks o'th' Mead, or garden, ye
(We challenge too) the banck of any Nymph
That makes the stream seem flowers; Thou o Jewell
435
With thy sole presence, in thy rumination
That I poor man might eftsoones come betwen
And chop on some cold thought, thrice blessed chance
To drop on such a Mistris, expectation
Most guiltless on't: tell me O Lady Fortune
(Next after Emely my Sovereign) how far
I may be proud. She takes strong note of me,
Hath made me near her; and this beauteous Morn
(The prim'st of all the year) presents me with
A brace of horses, two such Steeds might well
Be by a pair of Kings backt, in a Field
That their crowns titles tried: Alas, alas
Poor Cosen Palamon, poor prisoner, thou
So little dream'st upon my fortune, that
Thou thinkst thy self, the happier thing, to be
So near Emilia, me thou deem'st at Thebs,
And therein wretched, although free; But if
Thou knew'st my Mistris breath'd on me, and that
I ear'd her language, liv'd in her eye; O Coz.
What passion would enclose thee.
Enter Palamon as out of a Bush, with his Shackles: bends his fist at Arcite.
Palamon.
Traytor kinsman,
Thou shouldst perceive my passion, if these signs
Of prisonment were off me, and this hand
But owner of a Sword: By all oaths in one
I, and the justice of my love would make thee
A confest Traytor: O thou most perfidious
That ever gently look'd the voydes of honor.
That ev'r bore gentle Token; falsest Cosen
That ever blood made kin, call'st thou her thine?
I'll prove it in my Shackles, with these hands,
Void of appointment, that thou ly'st, and art
A very theef in love, a Chaffy Lord
Nor worth the name of villain: had I a Sword
And these house cloggs away.
Arc.
Dear Cosin Palamon.
Pal.
Cosoner Arcite, give me language, such
As thou hast shew'd me feat.
Arc.
Not finding in
The circuit of my breast, any gross stuff
To form me like your blazon, holds me to
This gentleness of answer; 'tis your passion
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 fair Coz.
I'll maintain my proceedings; pray be pleas'd
To shew in generous terms, your griefs since that
Your question's with your equall, who professes
To clear his own way, with the mind and Sword
Of a true Gentleman.
Pal.
That thou durst Arcite.
Arc.
My Coz, my Coz. you have been well advertis'd
How much I dare, y'ave seen me use my Sword
Against th'advice of fear: sure of another
You would not hear me doubted, but your silence
Should break out, though i'th' Sanctuary.
Pal.
Sir,
I have seen you move in such a place, which well
Might justifie your manhood, you were call'd
A good knight and a bold; But the whole week's not fair
If any day it rayn: Their valiant temper
Men loose when they encline to trecherie,
And then they fight like coupel'd Beeres, would fly
Were they not ty'd.
Arc.
Kinsman, you might as well
Speak this, and act it in your Glass, as to
His ear, which now disdains you.
Pal.
Come up to me,
Quit me of these cold Gyves, give me a Sword
Though it be rustie, and the charity
Of one meal lend me; Come before me then,
A good Sword in thy hand, and doe but say
That Emily is thine, I will forgive
The trespass thou hast done my, ye my life
If then thou carry't, and brave souls in shades
That have di'd manly, which will seek of me
Some news from earth, they shall get none but this,
That thou art brave, and noble.
Arc.
Be content,
Again betake you to your hawthorn house,
With counsel 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 self, and say but Arcite
I'm in plight, there shall be at your choice
Both Sword, and Armor.
Pal.
Oh you heavens, dare any
So noble bear a guilty business! none
But only Arcite, therefore none but Arcite
In this kind is so bold.
Arc.
Sweet Palamon.
Pal.
I doe embrace you, and your offer, for
Your offer do't I only, Sir your person
Without hypocrisy I may not wish
Wind horns of Cornets.
More than my Swords edge out.
Arc.
You hear the Horns;
Enter your Musick least this match between's
Be crost e'r met, give me your hand, farewell.
I'll bring you every needfull thing: I pray you
Take comfort and be strong.
Pal.
Pray hold your promise;
And doe the deed with a bent brow, most certain
You love me not, be rough with me, and pour
This oil out of your language; by this ayr
I could for each word, give a Cuff: my stomach
Not reconcil'd by reason,
Arc.
Plainly spoken,
Yet pardon me hard language, when I spur
Wind horns:
My horse, I chide him not; content, and anger
In me have but one face. Hark Sir, they call
The scatter'd to the Banket; you must guess
I have an office there.
Pal.
Sir your attendance
Cannot please heaven, and I know your office
Unjustly is atcheiv'd.
Arc.
If a good title,
I'm persuaded this question sick between's,
By bleeding must be cur'd. I 'm a Suitor,
That to your Sword you will bequeath this plea,
And talk of it no more.
Pal.
But this one word:
You are, going now to gaze upon my Mistris,
For note you, mine she is.
Arc.
Nay then.
Pal.
Nay pray you,
You talk of feeding me to breed me strength
You are going now to look upon a Sun
That strengthens what it looks on, there
You have a vantage o'er me, but enjoy't till
I may enforce my remedy. Farewell.
Exeunt.
| The Two Noble Kinsmen | |