Oh better never born
Than minister to such harm.
Enter Servant.
What is the chance?
SERVANT.
The cry’s “À Palamon.”
EMILIA.
Then he has won. ’Twas ever likely.
He looked all grace and success, and he is
Doubtless the prim’st of men. I prithee run
And tell me how it goes.
[Shout and cornets, crying “À Palamon!”]
SERVANT.
Still “Palamon.”
EMILIA.
Run and enquire.
[Exit Servant.]
Poor servant, thou hast lost.
Upon my right side still I wore thy picture,
Palamon’s on the left. Why so, I know not.
I had no end in ’t else; chance would have it so.
On the sinister side the heart lies; Palamon
Had the best-boding chance.