William Shakespeare - The Two Noble Kinsman Act 1 Scene 3 lyrics

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 k**ing them; 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 PERITHOUS.] EMILIA. How his longing Followes his Friend! since his depart, his sportes Though craving seriousnes, and sk**, 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 observed 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 Its least of these was dreadfull, and they have Fought out together, where d**hs-selfe was lodgd, Yet fate hath brought them off: Their knot of love, Tide, weaued, 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 Play-fellow; 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 the 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, Loued 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 liked, Was then of me approved, 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 every innocent wots well comes in Like old importments ba*tard) has this end, That the true love tweene Mayde, and mayde, may be More then in s** idividuall. HIPPOLITA. You 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, If I were ripe for your perswasion, you Have saide enough to shake me from the Arme Of the all noble Theseus, for whose fortunes I will now in, and kneele with great a**urance, That we, more then his Pirothous, possesse The high throne in his heart. EMILIA. I am not Against your faith; yet I continew mine. [Exeunt. Cornets.]