Scene
V
An open place in Athens.
A short flourish of cornets, and shouts within. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Emilia; Arcite, as a Countryman, wearing a garland; and Country-people.
Theseus
You have done worthily; I have not seen,
Since Hercules, a man of tougher sinews:
Whate’er you are, you run the best, and wrestle,
That these times can allow.
Arcite
I’m proud to please you.
Theseus
What country bred you?
Arcite
This; but far off, prince.
Theseus
Are you a gentleman?
Arcite
My father said so;
And to those gentle uses gave me life.
Theseus
Are you his heir?
Arcite
His youngest, sir.
Theseus
Your father,
Sure, is a happy sire then. What proves you?
Arcite
A little of all noble qualities:
I could have kept a hawk, and well have holla’d
To a deep cry of dogs; I dare not praise
My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me
Would say it was my best piece; last and greatest,
I would be thought a soldier.
Theseus
You are perfect.
Pirithous
Upon my soul, a proper man!
Emilia
He is so.
Pirithous
How do you like him, lady?
Hippolyta
I admire him:
I have not seen so young a man so noble—
If he say true—of his sort.
Emilia
Believe,
His mother was a wondrous handsome woman;
His face methinks goes that way.
Hippolyta
But his body
And fiery mind illustrate a brave father.
Pirithous
Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun,
Breaks through his baser garments!
Hippolyta
He’s well got, sure.
Theseus
What made you seek this place, sir?
Arcite
Noble Theseus,
To purchase a name, and do my ablest service
To such a well-found wonder as thy worth;
For only in thy court, of all the world,
Dwells fair-ey’d Honour.
Pirithous
All his words are worthy.
Theseus
Sir, we are much indebted to your travel,
Nor shall you lose your wish.—Pirithous,
Dispose of this fair gentleman.
Pirithous
Thanks, Theseus.—
Whate’re you are, you’re mine; and I shall give you
To a most noble service—to this lady,
This bright young virgin: pray, observe her goodness:
You’ve honour’d her fair birthday with your virtues,
And, as your due, you’re hers; kiss her fair hand, sir.
Arcite
Sir, you’re a noble giver.—To Emilia. Dearest beauty,
Thus let me seal my vow’d faith. Kisses her hand. When your servant—
Your most unworthy creature—but offends you,
Command him die, he shall.
Emilia
That were too cruel.
If you deserve well, sir, I shall soon see it:
You’re mine; and somewhat better than your rank I’ll use you.
Pirithous
I’ll see you furnish’d: and because you say
You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you
This afternoon to ride; but ’tis a rough one.
Arcite
I like him better, prince; I shall not, then,
Freeze in my saddle.
Theseus
Sweet, you must be ready—
And you, Emilia—and you, friend—and all—
To-morrow by the sun, to do observance
To flowery May, in Dian’s wood.—Wait well, sir,
Upon your mistress.—Emily, I hope
He shall not go afoot.
Emilia
That were a shame, sir,
While I have horses.—Take your choice; and what
You want at any time, let me but know it:
If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you
You’ll find a loving mistress.
Arcite
If I do not,
Let me find that my father ever hated—
Disgrace and blows.
Theseus
Go, lead the way; you’ve won it;
It shall be so: you shall receive all dues
Fit for the honour you have won; ’twere wrong else.—
Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a servant,
That, if I were a woman, would be master:
But you are wise.
Emilia
I hope too wise for that, sir. Flourish. Exeunt.