Emil. In my face dear Sister
I find no anger to'em; Nor no ruin,
The misadventure of their own eyes kill'em;
Yet that I will be woman, and have pitty,
My knees shall grow to'th' ground but I'll get mercie.
Help me dear Sister, in a deed so virtuous,
The powers of all women will be with us,
Most royall Brother.
Hippol. Sir by our tye of Marriage.
Emil. By your own spotless honor.
Hip. By that faith,
That fair hand, and that honest heart you gave me.
Emil. By that you would have pitty in another,
By your own virtues infinite.
Hip. By valor,
By all the chast nights I have ever pleas'd you.
Thes. These are strange Conjurings.
Per. Nay then I'll in too: By all our friendship Sir, by all our dangers,
By all you love most, wars; And this sweet Lady.
Emil. By that you would have trembled to deny
A blushing Maid.
Hip. By your own eyes: By strength
In which you swore I went beyond all women,
Almost all men, and yet I yielded Theseus.