Scaena 4. (Athens. A room in the prison.)

[Enter Iailors Daughter alone.]

DAUGHTER.

Why should I love this Gentleman? Tis odds He never will affect me; I am base, My Father the meane Keeper of his Prison, And he a prince: To marry him is hopelesse; To be his wh.o.r.e is witles. Out upon't, What pushes are we wenches driven to, When fifteene 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 lookt on. Next, I pittied him, And so would any young wench, o' my Conscience, That ever dream'd, or vow'd her Maydenhead To a yong hansom Man; Then I lov'd him, Extreamely lov'd him, infinitely lov'd him; And yet he had a Cosen, faire as he too.

But in my heart was Palamon, and there, Lord, what a coyle he keepes! To heare 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 bowes his n.o.ble body, then salutes me, thus: 'Faire, gentle Mayde, good morrow; may thy goodnes Get thee a happy husband.' Once he kist me.

I lov'd my lips the better ten daies after.

Would he would doe so ev'ry day! He greives much, And me as much to see his misery.

What should I doe, to make him know I love him?

For I would faine enjoy him. Say I ventur'd To set him free? what saies the law then? Thus much For Law, or kindred! I will doe it, And this night, or to morrow, he shall love me. [Exit.]

Scaena 5. (An open place in Athens.)

[Enter Theseus, Hipolita, Pirithous, Emilia: Arcite with a Garland, &c.]

[This short florish of Cornets and Showtes within.]

THESEUS.

You have done worthily; I have not seene, Since Hercules, a man of tougher synewes; What ere you are, you run the best, and wrastle, That these times can allow.

ARCITE.

I am proud to please you.

THESEUS.

What Countrie 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 heire?

ARCITE.

His yongest, Sir.

THESEUS.

Your Father Sure is a happy Sire then: what prooves you?

ARCITE.

A little of all n.o.ble Quallities: I could have kept a Hawke, and well have holloa'd To a deepe crie of Dogges; I dare not praise My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me Would say it was my best peece: last, and greatest, I would be thought a Souldier.

THESEUS.

You are perfect.

PERITHOUS.

Vpon my soule, a proper man.

EMILIA.

He is so.

PERITHOUS.

How doe you like him, Ladie?

HIPPOLITA.

I admire him; I have not seene so yong a man so n.o.ble (If he say true,) of his sort.

EMILIA.

Beleeve, His mother was a wondrous handsome woman; His face, me thinkes, goes that way.

HIPPOLITA.

But his Body And firie minde ill.u.s.trate a brave Father.

PERITHOUS.

Marke how his vertue, like a hidden Sun, Breakes through his baser garments.

HIPPOLITA.