Pal. 'Tis too true Arcite. To our Theban hounds,
That shook the aged Forrest with their ecchoes,
No more now must we hollo, no more shake
Our pointed Javelins, whilst the angry Swine
Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,
Struck with our well-steel'd Darts: All valiant uses,
(The food and nourishment of noble minds,)
In us two here shall perish; we shall die
(Which is the curse of honor) lastly,
Children of grief, and Ignorance.
Arc. Yet Cosin,
Even from the bottom of these miseries
From all that fortune can inflict upon us,
I see two comforts rising, two meer blessings,
If the gods please, to hold here a brave patience,
And the enjoying of our griefs together.
Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish
If I think this our prison.
Pala. Certainly,
'Tis a main goodness, Cosin, that our fortunes
Were twin'd together; 'tis most true, two souls
Put in two noble bodies, let 'em suffer
The gaul of hazard, so they grow together,
Will never sink, they must not, say they could,
A willing man dies sleeping, and all's done.
Arc. Shall we make worthy uses of this place
That all men hate so much?
Pal. How gentle Cosin?
Arc. Let's think this prison, Holy Sanctuary,
To keep us from corruption of worse men,
We are young, and yet desire the wayes of honour,
That liberty and common conversation,
The poison of pure spirits, might, like women,
Wooe us to wander from. What worthy blessing
Can be but our imaginations
May make it ours? And here being thus together,
We are an endless mine to one another;
We are one anothers Wife, ever begetting
New births of love; we are Father, Friends, Acquaintance,
We are, in one another, Families,
I am your Heir, and you are mine: This place
Is our Inheritance: no hard oppressor
Dare take this from us; here with a little patience
We shall live long, and loving: No surfeits seek us:
The hand of War hurts none here, nor the Seas
Swallow their youth: were we at liberty,
A Wife might part us lawfully, or business,
Quarrels consume us: Envy of ill men
Crave our acquaintance, I might sicken Cosin,
Where you should never know it, and so perish
Without your noble hand to close mine eyes,
Or prayers to the gods; a thousand chances
Were we from hence, would sever us.
Pal. You have made me
(I thank you Cosin Arcite) almost wanton
With my Captivity: what a misery
It is to live abroad! and every where:
'Tis like a Beast me thinks: I find the Court here,
I 'm sure a more content, and all those pleasures
That wooe the Wills of men to vanity,
I see through now; and am sufficient
To tell the world, 'tis but a gaudy shadow,
That old Time, as he passes by, takes with him,
What had we been old in the Court of Creon,
Where sin is Justice, Lust, and Ignorance,
The virtues of the great ones: Cosin Arcite
Had not the loving gods found this place for us
We had di'd as they doe, ill old men unwept,
And had their Epitaphs, the peoples Curses,
Shall I say more?
Arc. I would hear you still.
Pal. Ye shall.
Is there record of any two that lov'd
Better than we two Arcite?
Arc. Sure there cannot.