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’er 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 have honoured 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.—Dearest beauty,
Thus let me seal my vowed faith.
[He 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 ’t.
You’re mine, and somewhat better than your rank
I’ll use you.
PIRITHOUS.
I’ll see you furnished, 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,
Tomorrow 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.