I had rather see a wren hawke at a fly Then this decision; ev'ry blow that falls Threats a brave life, each stroake laments The place whereon it fals, and sounds more like A Bell then blade: I will stay here; It is enough my hearing shall be punishd With what shall happen--gainst the which there is No deaffing, but to heare--not taint mine eye With dread sights, it may shun.

PERITHOUS.

Sir, my good Lord, Your Sister will no further.

THESEUS.

Oh, she must.

She shall see deeds of honour in their kinde, Which sometime show well, pencild. Nature now Shall make and act the Story, the beleife Both seald with eye and eare; you must be present, You are the victours meede, the price, and garlond To crowne the Questions t.i.tle.

EMILIA.

Pardon me; If I were there, I'ld winke.

THESEUS.

You must be there; This Tryall is as t'wer i'th night, and you The onely star to shine.

EMILIA.

I am extinct; There is but envy in that light, which showes The one the other: darkenes, which ever was The dam of horrour, who do's stand accurst Of many mortall Millions, may even now, By casting her blacke mantle over both, That neither coulde finde other, get her selfe Some part of a good name, and many a murther Set off wherto she's guilty.

HIPPOLITA.

You must goe.

EMILIA.

In faith, I will not.

THESEUS.

Why, the knights must kindle Their valour at your eye: know, of this war You are the Treasure, and must needes be by To give the Service pay.

EMILIA.

Sir, pardon me; The tytle of a kingdome may be tride Out of it selfe.

THESEUS.

Well, well, then, at your pleasure; Those that remaine with you could wish their office To any of their Enemies.

HIPPOLITA.

Farewell, Sister; I am like to know your husband fore your selfe By some small start of time: he whom the G.o.ds Doe of the two know best, I pray them he Be made your Lot.

[Exeunt Theseus, Hipolita, Perithous, &c.]

EMILIA.

Arcite is gently visagd; yet his eye Is like an Engyn bent, or a sharpe weapon In a soft sheath; mercy and manly courage Are bedfellowes in his visage. Palamon Has a most menacing aspect: his brow Is grav'd, and seemes to bury what it frownes on; Yet sometime tis not so, but alters to The quallity of his thoughts; long time his eye Will dwell upon his object. Mellencholly Becomes him n.o.bly; So do's Arcites mirth, But Palamons sadnes is a kinde of mirth, So mingled, as if mirth did make him sad, And sadnes, merry; those darker humours that Sticke misbecomingly on others, on them Live in faire dwelling. [Cornets. Trompets sound as to a charge.]

Harke, how yon spurs to spirit doe incite The Princes to their proofe! Arcite may win me, And yet may Palamon wound Arcite to The spoyling of his figure. O, what pitty Enough for such a chance; if I were by, I might doe hurt, for they would glance their eies Toward my Seat, and in that motion might Omit a ward, or forfeit an offence Which crav'd that very time: it is much better I am not there; oh better never borne Then minister to such harme. [Cornets. A great cry and noice within, crying 'a Palamon'.] What is the chance?

[Enter Servant.]

SERVANT.

The Crie's 'a Palamon'.

EMILIA.

Then he has won! Twas ever likely; He lookd all grace and successe, and he is Doubtlesse the prim'st of men: I pre'thee, run And tell me how it goes. [Showt, and Cornets: Crying, 'a Palamon.']

SERVANT.

Still Palamon.

EMILIA.

Run and enquire. Poore Servant, thou hast lost; Vpon my right side still I wore thy picture, Palamons on the left: why so, I know not; I had no end in't else, chance would have it so.

On the sinister side the heart lyes; Palamon Had the best boding chance. [Another cry, and showt within, and Cornets.] This burst of clamour Is sure th'end o'th Combat.

[Enter Servant.]

SERVANT.

They saide that Palamon had Arcites body Within an inch o'th Pyramid, that the cry Was generall 'a Palamon': But, anon, Th'a.s.sistants made a brave redemption, and The two bold Tytlers, at this instant are Hand to hand at it.

EMILIA.

Were they metamorphisd Both into one! oh why? there were no woman Worth so composd a Man: their single share, Their n.o.blenes peculier to them, gives The prejudice of disparity, values shortnes, [Cornets. Cry within, Arcite, Arcite.]

To any Lady breathing--More exulting?

Palamon still?

SERVANT.

Nay, now the sound is Arcite.

EMILIA.

I pre'thee, lay attention to the Cry, [Cornets. A great showt and cry, 'Arcite, victory!']

Set both thine eares to'th busines.

SERVANT.

The cry is 'Arcite', and 'victory', harke: 'Arcite, victory!'

The Combats consummation is proclaim'd By the wind Instruments.

EMILIA.