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Nearer a brown than black, stern and yet noble,

Which shows him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers. ...

The circles of his eyes show fire within him,

And, as a heated lion, so he looks.

His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining,

Like raven's wings. His shoulders, broad and strong;

Armed long and round; and on his thigh a sword

Hung by a curious baldric, when he frowns

To seal his well with. Better, o' my conscience,

Was never soldier's friend.

THESEUS Thou hast well described him.

PIRITHOUS Yet a great deal short, ...

Methinks, of him that's first with Palamon.

THESEUS Pray speak him, friend.

PIRITHOUS I guess he is a prince too,

And, if it may be, greater -- for his show

Has all the ornament of honor in't.

He's somewhat bigger than 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 fair hopes of what he undertakes, ...

And when he's angry, then a settled valor,

Not tainted with extremes, runs through his body

And guides his arm to brave things. Fear he cannot --

He shows no such soft temper. His head's yellow,

Hard-haired and curled, thick twined: like ivy tods,

Not to undo with thunder. In his face

The livery of the warlike maid appears,

Pure red and white -- for yet no beard has blessed him --

And in his rolling eyes sits victory, ...

As if she ever meant to court his valor.

His nose stands high, a character of honor;

His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies.

EMILIA Must these men die too?

PIRITHOUS When he speaks, his tongue

Sounds like a trumpet. All his lineaments

Are as a man would wish 'em -- strong and clean.

He wears a well-steeled axe, the staff of gold.

His age, some five-and-twenty.

MESSENGER There's another -- ...

A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming

As great as any. Fairer promises

In such a body yet I never looked on.

PIRITHOUS O, he that's freckle-faced?

MESSENGER The same, my lord.

Are they not sweet ones?

PIRITHOUS Yes, they are well.

MESSENGER Methinks,

Being so few and well disposed, they show

Great and fine art in nature. He's white-haired --

Not wanton white, but such a manly color

Next to an auburn, tough and nimble set,

Which shows an active soul. His arms are brawny,

Lined with strong sinews -- to the shoulder piece

Gently they swell, like women new-conceived,

Which speaks him prone to labor, never fainting ...

Under the weight of arms; stout-hearted, still,

But when he stirs, a tiger. He's grey-eyed,

Which yields compassion where he conquers; sharp

To spy advantages, and where he finds 'em,

He's swift to make 'em his. He does no wrongs,

Nor takes none. He's round-faced, and when he smiles

He shows a lover; when he frowns, a soldier.

About his head he wears the winner's oak,

And in it stuck the favor of his lady.

His age, some six-and-thirty. In his hand ...

He bears a charging staff embossed with silver.

THESEUS Are they all thus?

PIRITHOUS They are all the sons of honor.

THESEUS Now as I have a soul, I long to see Ôem.

[to Hippolyta.] ~~~ Lady, you shall see men fight now.

HIPPOLYTA I wish it,

But not the cause, my lord. They would show

Bravely about the titles of two kingdoms --

'Tis pity love should be so tyrannous.

[to Emilia.] O my soft-hearted sister, what think you?

Weep not till they weep blood. Wench, it must be.

THESEUS [to Emilia.] You have steeled 'em with your beauty.

[to Pirithous.] ~~~ Honored friend, ...

To you I give the field: pray order it

Fitting the persons that must use it.

PIRITHOUS Yes, sir

THESEUS Come, I'll go visit 'em -- I cannot stay,

Their fame has fired me. Till they appear,

Good friend, be royal.

PIRITHOUS There shall want no bravery.

EMILIA [Aside.] Poor wench, go weep -- for whosoever wins

Loses a noble cousin for thy sins. [Exeunt.]

Act IV, Scene 3

Enter the Jailer, the Wooer, and the Doctor.

DOCTOR Her distraction is more at some