ACT 1
Scene 1
...must needs leave.
Music. Enter Hymen with a torch burning, a Boy in a white robe before, singing and strewing flowers. After Hymen, a Nymph encompassed in her tresses, bearing a wheaten garland; then Theseus between two other Nymphs with wheaten chaplets on their heads. Then Hippolyta, the bride, led by Pirithous, and another holding a garland over her head, her tresses likewise hanging. After her, Emilia, holding up her train. Then Artesius and Attendants.
...see you gone.
The wedding procession begins to exit towards the temple.
...hour on ’t.
Sir,
I’ll follow you at heels. The feast’s solemnity
Shall want till your return.
...more, farewell all.
All but Theseus and the Queens exit.
Scene 3
...of our chance.
Enter Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia.
No further.
...hurts good governors.
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 enthroned
In your dear heart!
...you here forever.
Peace be to you
As I pursue this war, which shall be then
Beyond further requiring.
Pirithous exits.
ACT 2
Scene 5
...shall love me.
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Emilia, Arcite in disguise, with a garland, Attendants, and others.
...You are perfect.
Upon my soul, a proper man.
...He is so.
to Hippolyta
How do you like him, lady?
...a brave father.
Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun,
Breaks through his baser garments.
...Dwells fair-eyed Honor.
All his words are worthy.
...this fair gentleman.
Thanks, Theseus.—
Whate’er you are, you’re mine, and I shall give you
To a most noble service: to this lady,
This bright young virgin. He brings Arcite to Emilia.
Pray observe her goodness;
You have honored her fair birthday with your virtues,
And, as your due, you’re hers. Kiss her fair hand, sir.
...I’ll use you.
to Arcite
I’ll see you furnished, and because you say
You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you
This afternoon to ride—but ’tis a rough one.
...for that, sir.
Flourish. They all exit.
ACT 3
Scene 5
...Pallas, inspire me!
Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia, and train.
...have we here?
Some country sport, upon my life, sir.
...means, dear Domine.
Produce!
...Attendant gives money.
And here’s something to paint your pole withal.
He gives money.
...eat his dowsets.
Wind horns within. Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous, and Train exit.
Scene 6
...Arcite. Fight again.
Horns. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous and train.
...thee to ’t.
O heaven,
What more than man is this!
...are strange conjurings.
Nay, then, I’ll in too. He kneels.
By all our friendship, sir, by all our dangers;
By all you love most, wars and this sweet lady—
...I yielded, Theseus—
To crown all this: by your most noble soul,
Which cannot want due mercy, I beg first—
...me entreat, sir—
For mercy.
...you place it?
They rise from their knees.
...is it, sister?
Urge it home, brave lady.
...a villain, then.
These are men!
...I feel compassion.
Let it not fall again, sir.
...upon his bier.
They exit.
ACT 4
Scene 2
...my unhappy beauty?
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous and Attendants.
...Who saw ’em?
I awhile.
...well described him.
Yet a great deal short,
Methinks, of him that’s first with Palamon.
...speak him, friend.
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 crown his valor.
His nose stands high, a character of honor;
His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies.
...men die too?
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.
...never looked on.
O, he that’s freckle-faced?
...not sweet ones?
Yes, they are well.
...they all thus?
They are all the sons of honor.
...must use it.
Yes, sir.
...friend, be royal.
There shall want no bravery.
All but Emilia exit.
ACT 5
Scene 1
...bring forth comfort.
Flourish. Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, and Attendants. Three altars set up onstage.
...that love ’em.
Sir, they enter.
...part my wishes.
Honor crown the worthiest!
Theseus and his train exit.
Scene 3
...love, I’ll cry.
Flourish. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous, and some Attendants.
...no step further.
Will you lose this sight?
...it may shun.
to Theseus
Sir, my good lord,
Your sister will no further.
...made your lot.
Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, and others, exit. Emilia remains, comparing again the pictures of Arcite and Palamon.
...Alas, poor Palamon!
Cornets. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Arcite as victor, and Attendants and others.
...So it is.
Flourish. They exit.
Scene 4
...hold, hold, hold!
Enter Pirithous in haste.
Hold, ho! It is a cursèd haste you made
If you have done so quickly!—Noble Palamon,
The gods will show their glory in a life
That thou art yet to lead.
...things fare?
Arise, great sir, and give the tidings ear
That are most dearly sweet and bitter.
...from our dream?
List then: your cousin,
Mounted upon a steed that Emily
Did first bestow on him—a black one, owing
Not a hair worth of white, which some will say
Weakens his price, and many will not buy
His goodness with this note, which superstition
Here finds allowance—on this horse is Arcite
Trotting the stones of Athens—which the calkins
Did rather tell than 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 ’twere, to th’ music
His own hooves made—for, as they say, from iron
Came music’s origin—what envious flint,
Cold as old Saturn, and like him possessed
With fire malevolent, darted a spark,
Or what fierce sulphur else, to this end made,
I comment not; the hot horse, hot 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 manage. Pig-like he whines
At the sharp rowel, which he frets at rather
Than any jot obeys; seeks all foul means
Of boist’rous and rough jadery to disseat
His lord that kept it bravely. When naught served,
When neither curb would crack, girth break, nor diff’ring plunges
Disroot his rider whence he grew, but that
He kept him ’tween his legs, on his hind hoofs
On end he stands
That Arcite’s legs, being higher than his head,
Seemed with strange art to hang. His victor’s wreath
Even then fell off his head, and presently
Backward the jade comes o’er, and his full poise
Becomes the rider’s load. Yet is he living,
But such a vessel ’tis that floats but for
The surge that next approaches. He much desires
To have some speech with you. Lo, he appears.
...like the time.
Flourish. They exit.