William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (587 page)
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Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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Are there such games today?
FIRST COUNTRYMAN
Yes, marry, are there, And such as you never saw. The Duke himself
Will be in person there.
Will be in person there.
ARCITE What pastimes are they?
SECOND COUNTRYMAN
Wrestling and running. (
To the others
) ’Tis a pretty fellow.
To the others
) ’Tis a pretty fellow.
THIRD COUNTRYMAN (
to Arcite
)
to Arcite
)
Thou wilt not go along?
ARCITE Not yet, sir.
FOURTH COUNTRYMAN
Well, sir, Take your own time. (To the others) Come, boys.
FIRST COUNTRYMAN
My mind misgives me—This fellow has a vengeance trick o’th’ hip:
Mark how his body’s made for’t.
Mark how his body’s made for’t.
SECOND COUNTRYMAN
I’ll be hanged though If he dare venture; hang him, plum porridge!
He wrestle? He roast eggs! Come, let’s be gone, lads.
He wrestle? He roast eggs! Come, let’s be gone, lads.
Exeunt the four Countrymen
ARCITE
This is an offered opportunity
I durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled—
The best men called it excellent—and run
Swifter than wind upon a field of corn,
Curling the wealthy ears, never flew. I’ll venture,
And in some poor disguise be there. Who knows
Whether my brows may not be girt with garlands,
And happiness prefer me to a place
Where I may ever dwell in sight of her? Exit
2.4I durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled—
The best men called it excellent—and run
Swifter than wind upon a field of corn,
Curling the wealthy ears, never flew. I’ll venture,
And in some poor disguise be there. Who knows
Whether my brows may not be girt with garlands,
And happiness prefer me to a place
Where I may ever dwell in sight of her? Exit
Enter the Jailer’s Daughter
JAILER’S DAUGHTER
Why should I love this gentleman? ’Tis odds
He never will affect me. I am base,
My father the mean keeper of his prison,
And he a prince. To marry him is hopeless,
To be his whore is witless. Out upon’t,
What pushes are we wenches driven to
When fifteen once has found us? First, I saw him;
I, seeing, thought he was a goodly man;
He has as much to please a woman in him—
If he please to bestow it so—as ever
These eyes yet looked on. Next, I pitied him,
And so would any young wench, o‘my conscience,
That ever dreamed or vowed her maidenhead
To a young handsome man. Then, I loved him,
Extremely loved him, infinitely loved him—
And yet he had a cousin fair as he, too.
But in my heart was Palamon, and there,
Lord, what a coil he keeps! To hear him
Sing in an evening, what a heaven it is!
And yet his songs are sad ones. Fairer spoken
Was never gentleman. When I come in
To bring him water in a morning, first
He bows his noble body, then salutes me, thus:
‘Fair, gentle maid, good morrow. May thy goodness
Get thee a happy husband.’ Once he kissed me—
I loved my lips the better ten days after.
Would he would do so every day! He grieves much,
And me as much to see his misery.
What should I do to make him know I love him?
For I would fain enjoy him. Say I ventured
To set him free? What says the law then? Thus much
For law or kindred! I will do it,
And this night; ere tomorrow he shall love me. Exit
2.5He never will affect me. I am base,
My father the mean keeper of his prison,
And he a prince. To marry him is hopeless,
To be his whore is witless. Out upon’t,
What pushes are we wenches driven to
When fifteen once has found us? First, I saw him;
I, seeing, thought he was a goodly man;
He has as much to please a woman in him—
If he please to bestow it so—as ever
These eyes yet looked on. Next, I pitied him,
And so would any young wench, o‘my conscience,
That ever dreamed or vowed her maidenhead
To a young handsome man. Then, I loved him,
Extremely loved him, infinitely loved him—
And yet he had a cousin fair as he, too.
But in my heart was Palamon, and there,
Lord, what a coil he keeps! To hear him
Sing in an evening, what a heaven it is!
And yet his songs are sad ones. Fairer spoken
Was never gentleman. When I come in
To bring him water in a morning, first
He bows his noble body, then salutes me, thus:
‘Fair, gentle maid, good morrow. May thy goodness
Get thee a happy husband.’ Once he kissed me—
I loved my lips the better ten days after.
Would he would do so every day! He grieves much,
And me as much to see his misery.
What should I do to make him know I love him?
For I would fain enjoy him. Say I ventured
To set him free? What says the law then? Thus much
For law or kindred! I will do it,
And this night; ere tomorrow he shall love me. Exit
Short flourish of cornetts and shouts within. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Emilia, Arcite disguised, with a garland, and attendants
THESEUS
You have done worthily. I have not seen
Since Hercules a man of tougher sinews.
Whate’er you are, you run the best and wrestle
That these times can allow.
Since Hercules a man of tougher sinews.
Whate’er you are, you run the best and wrestle
That these times can allow.
ARCITE I am proud to please you.
THESEUS
What country bred you?
ARCITE
This—but far off, prince.
THESEUS
Are you a gentleman?
ARCITE
My father said so, And to those gentle uses gave me life.
THESEUS
Are you his heir?
ARCITE
His youngest, sir.
THESEUS
Your father Sure is a happy sire, then. What proves you?
ARCITE
A little of all noble qualities.
I could have kept a hawk and well have hollered
To a deep cry of dogs; I dare not praise
My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me
Would say it was my best piece; last and greatest,
I would be thought a soldier.
I could have kept a hawk and well have hollered
To a deep cry of dogs; I dare not praise
My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me
Would say it was my best piece; last and greatest,
I would be thought a soldier.
THESEUS You are perfect.
PIRITHOIIS
Upon my soul, a proper man.
EMILIA
He is so.
PIRITHOUS (
to Hippolyta
)
to Hippolyta
)
How do you like him, lady?
HIPPOLYTA
I admire him. I have not seen so young a man so noble—
If he say true—of his sort.
If he say true—of his sort.
EMILIA
Believe His mother was a wondrous handsome woman—
His face methinks goes that way.
His face methinks goes that way.
HIPPOLYTA
But his body And fiery mind illustrate a brave father.
PIRITHOUS
Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun,
Breaks through his baser garments.
Breaks through his baser garments.
HIPPOLYTA
He’s well got, sure.
THESEUS (
to Arcite
)
to Arcite
)
What made you seek this place, sir?
ARCITE
Noble Theseus, To purchase name and do my ablest service
To such a well-found wonder as thy worth,
For only in thy court of all the world
Dwells fair-eyed honour.
To such a well-found wonder as thy worth,
For only in thy court of all the world
Dwells fair-eyed honour.
PIRITHOUS
All his words are worthy.
THESEUS (
to Arcite
)
to Arcite
)
Sir, we are much indebted to your travel,
Nor shall you lose your wish.—Pirithous,
Dispose of this fair gentleman.
Nor shall you lose your wish.—Pirithous,
Dispose of this fair gentleman.
PIRITHOUS
Thanks, Theseus. (
To Arcite
) Whate’er you are, you’re mine, and I shall
give you
To a most noble service, to this lady,
This bright young virgin; pray observe her goodness.
You have honoured her fair birthday with your
virtues,
And as your due you’re hers. Kiss her fair hand, sir.
To Arcite
) Whate’er you are, you’re mine, and I shall
give you
To a most noble service, to this lady,
This bright young virgin; pray observe her goodness.
You have honoured her fair birthday with your
virtues,
And as your due you’re hers. Kiss her fair hand, sir.
ARCITE
Sir, you’re a noble giver. (
To Emilia
) Dearest beauty,
Thus let me seal my vowed faith.
To Emilia
) Dearest beauty,
Thus let me seal my vowed faith.
He kisses her hand
When your servant,
Your most unworthy creature, but offends you,
Command him die, he shall.
Your most unworthy creature, but offends you,
Command him die, he shall.
EMILIA
That were too cruel. If you deserve well, sir, I shall soon see’t.
You’re mine, and somewhat better than your rank I’ll
use you.
You’re mine, and somewhat better than your rank I’ll
use you.
PIRITHOUS (
to Arcite
)
to Arcite
)
I’ll see you furnished, and, because you say
You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you
This afternoon to ride—but ’tis a rough one.
You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you
This afternoon to ride—but ’tis a rough one.
ARCITE
I like him better, prince—I shall not then
Freeze in my saddle.
Freeze in my saddle.
THESEUS (
to Hippolyta
)
to Hippolyta
)
Sweet, you must be ready—And you, Emilia, ⌈to Pirithous] and you, friend—and
all,
Tomorrow by the sun, to do observance
To flow’ry May in Dian’s wood. (To Arcite) Wait well,
sir,
Upon your mistress.—Emity, I hope
He shall not go afoot.
all,
Tomorrow by the sun, to do observance
To flow’ry May in Dian’s wood. (To Arcite) Wait well,
sir,
Upon your mistress.—Emity, I hope
He shall not go afoot.
EMILIA
That were a shame, sir, While I have horses. (
To Arcite
) Take your choice, and
what
You want, at any time, let me but know it.
If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you,
You’ll find a loving mistress.
To Arcite
) Take your choice, and
what
You want, at any time, let me but know it.
If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you,
You’ll find a loving mistress.
ARCITE
If I do not, Let me find that my father ever hated—
Disgrace and blows.
Disgrace and blows.
THESEUS
Go, lead the way—you have won it. It shall be so: you shall receive all dues
Fit for the honour you have won. ’Twere wrong else.
(To Emilia) Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a
servant
That, if I were a woman, would be master.
But you are wise.
Fit for the honour you have won. ’Twere wrong else.
(To Emilia) Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a
servant
That, if I were a woman, would be master.
But you are wise.
EMILIA
I hope too wise for that, sir.
Flourish. Exeunt
2.6Enter the jailer’s Daughter
JAILER’S DAUGHTER
Let all the dukes and all the devils roar—
He is at liberty! I have ventured for him,
And out I have brought him. To a little wood
A mile hence I have sent him, where a cedar
Higher than all the rest spreads like a plane,
Fast by a brook—and there he shall keep close
Till I provide him files and food, for yet
His iron bracelets are not off. O Love,
What a stout-hearted child thou art! My father
Durst better have endured cold iron than done it.
I love him beyond love and beyond reason
Or wit or safety. I have made him know it—
I care not, I am desperate. If the law
Find me and then condemn me for‘t, some wenches,
Some honest-hearted maids, will sing my dirge
And tell to memory my death was noble,
Dying almost a martyr. That way he takes,
I purpose, is my way too. Sure, he cannot
Be so unmanly as to leave me here.
If he do, maids will not so easily
Trust men again. And yet, he has not thanked me
For what I have done—no, not so much as kissed me—
And that, methinks, is not so well. Nor scarcely
Could I persuade him to become a free man,
He made such scruples of the wrong he did
To me and to my father. Yet, I hope
When he considers more, this love of mine
Will take more root within him. Let him do
What he will with me—so he use me kindly.
For use me, so he shall, or I’ll proclaim him,
And to his face, no man. I’ll presently
Provide him necessaries and pack my clothes up,
And where there is a patch of ground I’ll venture,
So he be with me. By him, like a shadow,
I’ll ever dwell. Within this hour the hubbub
Will be all o’er the prison—I am then
Kissing the man they look for. Farewell, father:
Get many more such prisoners and such daughters,
And shortly you may keep yourself. Now to him.
He is at liberty! I have ventured for him,
And out I have brought him. To a little wood
A mile hence I have sent him, where a cedar
Higher than all the rest spreads like a plane,
Fast by a brook—and there he shall keep close
Till I provide him files and food, for yet
His iron bracelets are not off. O Love,
What a stout-hearted child thou art! My father
Durst better have endured cold iron than done it.
I love him beyond love and beyond reason
Or wit or safety. I have made him know it—
I care not, I am desperate. If the law
Find me and then condemn me for‘t, some wenches,
Some honest-hearted maids, will sing my dirge
And tell to memory my death was noble,
Dying almost a martyr. That way he takes,
I purpose, is my way too. Sure, he cannot
Be so unmanly as to leave me here.
If he do, maids will not so easily
Trust men again. And yet, he has not thanked me
For what I have done—no, not so much as kissed me—
And that, methinks, is not so well. Nor scarcely
Could I persuade him to become a free man,
He made such scruples of the wrong he did
To me and to my father. Yet, I hope
When he considers more, this love of mine
Will take more root within him. Let him do
What he will with me—so he use me kindly.
For use me, so he shall, or I’ll proclaim him,
And to his face, no man. I’ll presently
Provide him necessaries and pack my clothes up,
And where there is a patch of ground I’ll venture,
So he be with me. By him, like a shadow,
I’ll ever dwell. Within this hour the hubbub
Will be all o’er the prison—I am then
Kissing the man they look for. Farewell, father:
Get many more such prisoners and such daughters,
And shortly you may keep yourself. Now to him.
Exit
A bush in place.
⌉
Cornetts in sundry places. Noise and hollering as of people a-Maying. Enter Arcite
ARCITE
The Duke has lost Hippo)yta—each took
A several laund. This is a solemn rite
They owe bloomed May, and the Athenians pay it
To th’ heart of ceremony. O, Queen Emilia,
Fresher than May, sweeter
Than her gold buttons on the boughs, or all
Th’enamelled knacks o’th’ mead or garden—yea,
We challenge too the bank of any nymph
That makes the stream seem flowers; thou, O jewel
O’th’ wood, o’th’ world, hast likewise blessed a pace
With thy sole presence in thy ⌈
⌉ rumination
That I, poor man, might eftsoons come between
And chop on some cold thought. Thrice blessèd
chance
To drop on such a mistress, expectation
Most guiltless on‘t! Tell me, O Lady Fortune,
Next after Emily 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 backed, in a field
That their crowns’ titles tried. Alas, alas,
Poor cousin Palamon, poor prisoner—thou
So little dream’st upon my fortune that
Thou think’st thyself the happier thing to be
So near Emilia. Me thou deem’st at Thebes,
And therein wretched, although free. But if
Thou knew’st my mistress breathed on me, and that
I eared her language, lived in her eye-O, coz,
What passion would enclose thee!
A several laund. This is a solemn rite
They owe bloomed May, and the Athenians pay it
To th’ heart of ceremony. O, Queen Emilia,
Fresher than May, sweeter
Than her gold buttons on the boughs, or all
Th’enamelled knacks o’th’ mead or garden—yea,
We challenge too the bank of any nymph
That makes the stream seem flowers; thou, O jewel
O’th’ wood, o’th’ world, hast likewise blessed a pace
With thy sole presence in thy ⌈
⌉ rumination
That I, poor man, might eftsoons come between
And chop on some cold thought. Thrice blessèd
chance
To drop on such a mistress, expectation
Most guiltless on‘t! Tell me, O Lady Fortune,
Next after Emily 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 backed, in a field
That their crowns’ titles tried. Alas, alas,
Poor cousin Palamon, poor prisoner—thou
So little dream’st upon my fortune that
Thou think’st thyself the happier thing to be
So near Emilia. Me thou deem’st at Thebes,
And therein wretched, although free. But if
Thou knew’st my mistress breathed on me, and that
I eared her language, lived in her eye-O, coz,
What passion would enclose thee!
Enter Palamon as out of a bush with his shackles. He bends his fist at Arcite
PALAMON
Traitor 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 confessed traitor. O thou most perfidious
That ever gently looked, the void’st of honour
That e’er bore gentle token, falsest cousin
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 liest and art
A very thief in love, a chaffy lord
Not worth the name of villain. Had I as word
And these house-clogs away—
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 confessed traitor. O thou most perfidious
That ever gently looked, the void’st of honour
That e’er bore gentle token, falsest cousin
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 liest and art
A very thief in love, a chaffy lord
Not worth the name of villain. Had I as word
And these house-clogs away—
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