The Two Noble Kinsmen Part 14

Deere Cosin Palamon--

PALAMON.

Cosoner Arcite, give me language such As thou hast shewd me feate.

ARCITE.

Not finding in The circuit of my breast any grosse stuffe To forme me like your blazon, holds me to This gentlenesse of answer; tis your pa.s.sion 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 Gla.s.se, 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 trespa.s.se 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 n.o.ble.

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 n.o.ble 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 t.i.tle, 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 live-long 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.]