Scaena 3. (Before the gates of Athens.)

       [Enter Pirithous, Hipolita, Emilia.]

       PERITHOUS.

       No further.

       HIPPOLITA.

       Sir, farewell; repeat my wishes

       To our great Lord, of whose succes I dare not

       Make any timerous question; yet I wish him

       Exces and overflow of power, and’t might be,

       To dure ill-dealing fortune: speede to him,

       Store never hurtes good Gouernours.

       PERITHOUS.

       Though I know

       His Ocean needes not my poore drops, yet they

       Must yeild their tribute there. My precious Maide,

       Those best affections, that the heavens infuse

       In their best temperd peices, keepe enthroand

       In your deare heart.

       EMILIA.

       Thanckes, Sir. Remember me

       To our all royall Brother, for whose speede

       The great Bellona ile sollicite; and

       Since in our terrene State petitions are not

       Without giftes understood, Ile offer to her

       What I shall be advised she likes: our hearts

       Are in his Army, in his Tent.

       HIPPOLITA.

       In’s bosome:

       We have bin Soldiers, and wee cannot weepe

       When our Friends don their helmes, or put to sea,

       Or tell of Babes broachd on the Launce, or women

       That have sod their Infants in (and after eate them)

       The brine, they wept at killing ‘em; Then if

       You stay to see of us such Spincsters, we

       Should hold you here for ever.

       PERITHOUS.

       Peace be to you,

       As I pursue this war, which shall be then

       Beyond further requiring. [Exit Pir.]

       EMILIA.

       How his longing

       Followes his Friend! since his depart, his sportes

       Though craving seriousnes, and skill, past slightly

       His careles execution, where nor gaine

       Made him regard, or losse consider; but

       Playing one busines in his hand, another

       Directing in his head, his minde, nurse equall

       To these so diffring Twyns—have you observ’d him,

       Since our great Lord departed?

       HIPPOLITA.

       With much labour,

       And I did love him fort: they two have Cabind

       In many as dangerous, as poore a Corner,

       Perill and want contending; they have skift

       Torrents whose roring tyranny and power

       I’th least of these was dreadfull, and they have

       Fought out together, where Deaths-selfe was lodgd,

       Yet fate hath brought them off: Their knot of love,

       Tide, weau’d, intangled, with so true, so long,

       And with a finger of so deepe a cunning,

       May be outworne, never undone. I thinke

       Theseus cannot be umpire to himselfe,

       Cleaving his conscience into twaine and doing

       Each side like Iustice, which he loves best.

       EMILIA.

       Doubtlesse

       There is a best, and reason has no manners

       To say it is not you: I was acquainted

       Once with a time, when I enjoyd a Playfellow;

       You were at wars, when she the grave enrichd,

       Who made too proud the Bed, tooke leave o th Moone

       (Which then lookt pale at parting) when our count

       Was each eleven.

       HIPPOLITA.

       Twas Flaui(n)a.

       EMILIA.

       Yes.

       You talke of Pirithous and Theseus love;

       Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasond,

       More buckled with strong Iudgement and their needes

       The one of th’other may be said to water [2. Hearses ready

       with Palamon: and Arcite: the 3. Queenes. Theseus: and his

       Lordes ready.]

       Their intertangled rootes of love; but I

       And shee I sigh and spoke of were things innocent,

       Lou’d for we did, and like the Elements

       That know not what, nor why, yet doe effect

       Rare issues by their operance, our soules

       Did so to one another; what she lik’d,

       Was then of me approov’d, what not, condemd,

       No more arraignment; the flowre that I would plucke

       And put betweene my breasts (then but beginning

       To swell about the blossome) oh, she would long

       Till shee had such another, and commit it

       To the like innocent Cradle, where Phenix like

       They dide in perfume: on my head no toy

       But was her patterne; her affections (pretty,

       Though, happely, her careles were) I followed

       For my most serious decking; had mine eare

       Stolne some new aire, or at adventure humd on

       From musicall Coynadge, why it was a note

       Whereon her spirits would sojourne (rather dwell on)

       And sing it in her slumbers. This rehearsall

       (Which ev’ry innocent wots well comes in

       Like old importments bastard) has this end,

       That the true love tweene Mayde, and mayde, may be

       More then in sex idividuall.

       HIPPOLITA.

       Y’are out of breath

       And this high speeded pace, is but to say

       That you shall never like the Maide Flavina

       Love any that’s calld Man.

       EMILIA.

       I am sure I shall not.

       HIPPOLITA.

       Now, alacke, weake Sister,

       I must no more beleeve thee in this point

       (Though in’t I know thou dost beleeve thy selfe,)

       Then I will trust a sickely appetite,

       That loathes even as it longs; but, sure, my Sister,