Thes. You valiant and strong-hearted enemies
You royal German foes, that this day come
To blow that nearness out, that flames between ye;
Lay by your anger for an hour, and Dove-like
Before the holy Altars of your helpers
(The all-fear'd gods) bow down your stubborn bodies,
Your Ire is more than mortal; So your help be,
And as the gods regard ye, fight with Justice,
I'll leave you to your prayers, and betwixt ye
I part my wishes.
Per. Honor crown the worthiest.
[Exit Theseus and his train.
Pal. The glass is running now that cannot finish
Till one of us expire: think you but thus,
That were there ought in me which strove to shew
Mine enemy in this business, were't one eye
Against another: Arm opprest by Arm:
I would destroy th' offender, Coz. I would
Though parcel of my self: then from this gather
How I should tender you.
Arc. I am in labour
To push your name, your antient love, our kindred
Out of my memory; and i' th' self-same place
To seat something I would confound: so hoist we
The sails, that must these vessels port, even where
The heavenly Lymiter pleases.
Pal. You speak well;
Before I turn, let me embrace thee Cosin
This I shall never do agen.
Arc. One farewel.
Pal. Why let it be so: Farewel Coz.
[Exeunt Palamon and his Knights.
Arc. Farewel Sir;
Knights, Kinsmen, Lovers, yea my Sacrifices
True worshipers of Mars, whose spirit in you
Expells the seeds of fear, and th' apprehension
Which still is farther off it, goe with me
Before the god of our profession: There
Require of him the hearts of Lions, and
The breath of Tygers, yea, the fierceness too,
Yea, the speed also, to go on, I mean
Else wish we to be snails: you know my prize
Must be dragg'd out of bloud, force and great fea[te]
Must put my Garland on, where she sticks
The Queen of Flowers: our intercession then
Must be to him that makes the Camp, a Cestron
Brim'd with the b[l]ood of men: give me your aid
And bend your spirits towards him. [They kneel.
Thou mighty one, that with thy power hast turn'd
Green Neptune into purple.
Comets prewarn, whose havock in vast Field
Unearthed skulls proclaim, whose breath blows down,
The teeming C[e]res foyzon, who dost pluck
With hand armenipotent from [forth] blew clouds,
The mason'd Turrets, that both mak'st and break'st
The stony girths of Cities: me thy pupil,
Youngest follower of thy Drum, instruct this day
With military skill, that to thy laud
I may advance my streamer, and by thee,
Be stil'd the Lord o' th' day, give me great Mars
Some token of thy Pleasure.