Part 9

ARCITE. Fie, Sir, You play the Childe extreamely: I will love her, I must, I ought to doe so, and I dare; And all this justly.

PALAMON. O that now, that now Thy false-selfe and thy friend had but this fortune, To be one howre at liberty, and graspe Our good Swords in our hands! I would quickly teach thee What ’twer to filch affection from another: Thou art baser in it then a Cutpurse; Put but thy head out of this window more, And as I have a soule, Ile naile thy life too’t.

ARCITE. Thou dar’st not, foole, thou canst not, thou art feeble. Put my head out? Ile throw my Body out, And leape the garden, when I see her next

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,

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.