• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

DAUGHTER What kenn'st thou?

2 FRIEND A fair wood.

DAUGHTER Bear for it, master.

Tack about!

[Sings] 'When Cynthia with her borrowed light' . . . [Exeunt.]

Act IV, Scene 2

Enter Emilia, with two pictures.

EMILIA Yet I may bind these wounds up that must open

And bleed to death for my sake else -- I'll choose,

And end their strife. Two such young handsome men

Shall never fall for me; their weeping mothers

Following the dead cold ashes of their sons,

Shall; never curse my cruelty. Good heaven,

What a sweet face has Arcite! If wise nature,

With all her best endowments, all those beauties

She sows into the births of noble bodies,

Were here a mortal woman and had in her ...

The coy denials of young maids, yet doubtless

She would run mad for this man. What an eye,

Of what fiery sparkle and quick sweetness

Has this young prince! Here love itself sits smiling!

Just such another wanton Ganymede

Set Jove afire once, and enforced the god

Snatch up the goodly boy and set him by him,

A shining constellation. What a brow,

Of what spacious majesty, he carries!

Arched like the great-eyed Juno's, but far sweeter, ...

Smoother than Pelops' shoulder! Fame and honor,

Methinks, from hence, as from a promontory

Pointed in heaven, should clap their wings and sing

To all the under world the loves and fights

Of gods, and such men near 'em. Palamon

Is but his foil; to him a mere dull shadow;

He's swart and meager, of an eye as heavy

As if he had lost his mother; a still temper,

No stirring in him, no alacrity,

Of all this sprightly sharpness, not a smile. ...

Yet these that we count errors may become him:

Narcissus was a sad boy, but a heavenly.

O, who can find the bent of woman's fancy?

I am a fool, my reason is lost in me,

I have no choice, and I have lied so lewdly

That women ought to beat me. On my knees

I ask thy pardon, Palamon, thou art alone

And only beautiful, and these the eyes,

These the bright lamps of beauty, that command

And threaten love -- and what young maid dare cross 'em? ...

What a bold gravity, and yet inviting,

Has this brown manly face? O, love this only

From this hour is complexion. Lie there, Arcite,

Thou art a changeling to him, a mere gypsy,

And this the noble body. I am sotted,

Utterly lost -- my virgin's faith has fled me.

For if my brother, but even now, had asked me

Whether I loved, I had run made for Arcite;

Now if my sister, more for Palamon.

Stand both together. Now come ask me, brother -- ...

Alas, I know not; ask me now, sweet sister --

I may go look. What a mere child is fancy,

That having two fair gauds of equal sweetness,

Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both!

[Enter a Gentleman.] How now, sir?

GENTLEMAN From the noble Duke your brother,

Madam I bring you news. The knights are come.

EMILIA To end the quarrel?

GENTLEMAN Yes.

EMILIA Would I might end first!

What sins have I committed, chaste Diana,

That my unspotted youth must now be soiled

With blood of princes, and my chastity ...

Be made the altar where the lives of lovers --

Two greater and two better never yet

Made mothers joy -- must be the sacrifice

To my unhappy beauty?

[Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, and attendants.]

THESEUS Bring 'em in

Quickly, by any means, I long to see 'em. [Exit one or more.]

[to Emilia.] Your two contending lovers are returned,

And with them their fair knights. Now, my fair sister,

You must love one of them.

EMILIA I had rather both,

So neither for my sake should fall untimely. [Enter a Messenger.]

THESEUS Who saw 'em?

PIRITHOUS I a while.

GENTLEMAN And I.

THESEUS [to the Messenger] From whence come you, sir?

MESSENGER From the knights.

THESEUS Pray speak.

You that have seen them, what they are.

MESSENGER I will, sir.

And truly what I think. Six braver spirits

Than these they have brought, if we judge by the outside,

I never saw nor read of. He that stands

In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming,

Should be a stout man; by his face, a prince,

His very looks so say him: