PIRITHOUS

No further. Though I know His Ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they Must yield their tribute there: My precious Maid, Those best affections, that the heavens infuse In their best tempered pieces, keep enthroand In your deer heart. Peace be to you As I pursue this war, which shall be then Beyond further requiring. Sir, my good Lord Your Sister will no further. Hold hoa: It is a cursed hast you If you have done so quickly: noble Palamon, The gods will show their glory in a life. That thou art yet to lead. Arise great Sir, and give the tidings That are most early sweet, and bitter. List then: your Cousin Mounted upon a Steed that Emily Did first bestow on him, a black one, owing Not a hair of white, which some will say Weakens his , and many will not buy His goodness with this note: Which superstition finds allowance: On this horse is Arcite Trotting the stones of Athens, which the Calkins Did rather tell, then trample; for the horse Would make his length a mile, if't pleased his Rider To put pride in him: as he thus went counting The flinty pavement, dancing as were to'th Music His own made; (for as they say iron Came Musics origen) what Flint, Cold as old Saturn, and Like him possessed With fire male volent, darted a Spark Or what fierce sulphur else, to this end , I comment ; the hight horse, hight as fire Took Toy at this, and fell to what disorder His power could give his will, bounds, comes on end, Forgets school doing, being therein trained, And of kind mannadge, pig-like he whines At the sharp Rowell, which he freats at rather Then any jot obeys; seeks all foul means Of boisterous and rough Iadrie, to dis-seate His Lord, that kept it bravely: when nought served, When neither Curb would crack, girth break nor differing plunges Dis-roote his Rider whence he grew, but that He kept him tween his legs, on his hind hoofes on end he stands That Arcites legs being higher then his head Seemed with strange art to hang: His victoros wreathe Even then fell off his head: and presently Backward the lade comes over, and his full poize Becomes the Riders load: yet is he living. But such a vessel , that floats but for The surge that next approaches: he much desires To have some speech with you: Lo he appears. Enter Theseus, Hipolita, Emilia, Arcita, in a chair. How do you Like him Lady? Mark how his virtue, Like a hidden Sun Breaks through his baser garments. All his words are worthy. I'll see you furnished, and because you say You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you This after noon to ride, but 'tis a rough one. Some Country sport, upon my life Sir. Well Sir, go forward, we will . Ladies fit down, we'll . And here's something to paint your Pole withal. Oh heaven, What more then man is this! Nay then I oh in too: By all our friendship Sir, by all our dangers, By all you love most, wars; and this sweet Lady. To crown all this; By your most noble soul Which cannot want endue mercy, I beg first. For mercy. These are men. Let it not fallen again Sir. I a while. Yet a great deal short Me thinks, of him that's first with Palamon. I guess he is a Prince too, And if it may be, greater; for his show Has all the ornament of honour in't: He's somewhat bigger, then the Knight he spoke of, But of a face far sweeter; His complexion Is (as a ripe grape) ruddy: he has felt Without doubt what he fights for, and so apter To make this cause his own: In's face appears All the fai e Hope's of what he undertakes, And when he's angry, then a settled valour (Not tainted with extremes) runs through his body, And guides his arm to brave things: Fear he cannot, He shewesno such soft temper, his head's yellow, Hard haired, and curled, thick twinned Like Ivy tops, Not to undo with thunder: In his face The livery of the warlike Maid appears, Pure read, and white, for yet no beard has bleft him. And in his rolling eyes, victory. As if she ever meant to correct his valour: His Nose stands high, a Character of honour. His read lips, after fights, are fit for Ladies. When he speaks, his tongue Sounds Like a Trumpet; All his lineaments Are as a man would wish they, strong, and clean, He wears a well-steeld Axe, the staff of gold, His age some five and twenty. Oh, he that's freckle faced? Yes they are well. They are all the sons of honour. Yes Sir. There shall want no bravery. Sir they enter. Honour crown the worthiest. Will you lose this sighed? Thanks Theseus. What ere you are y'ar 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 his fair birthday, with your virtues, And as your endue y'ar hers: kiss her fair hand Sir. Sir I'll follow you at eels; The Feasts solemnity Shall want till your return. Upon my soul, a proper man. Produce. Music Dance. , Come forth, and foot it, nock for choole. Enter The Dance. Ladies, if we have been erry And have pleased thee with a derry, And a , a Say the Schoolemaster's no Clown: Duke, if we have pleased three And have done as good Boys should do, Give us but a tree or twain For a Maypole, and again Ere another year run out, We'll make thee laugh and all this .