The crow, the sland’rous cuckoo, nor
The boding raven, nor chough hoar,
Nor chatt’ring ’pie,
May on our bride-house perch or sing,
Or with them any discord bring,
But from it fly.
Enter three Queens in black, with veils stained, with imperial crowns. The first Queen falls down at the foot of Theseus; the second falls down at the foot of Hippolyta; the third before Emilia.
FIRST QUEEN.
For pity’s sake and true gentility’s,
Hear and respect me.
SECOND QUEEN.
For your mother’s sake,
And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair ones,
Hear and respect me.
THIRD QUEEN.
Now, for the love of him whom Jove hath marked
The honour of your bed, and for the sake
Of clear virginity, be advocate
For us and our distresses. This good deed
Shall raze you out o’ th’ book of trespasses
All you are set down there.
THESEUS.
Sad lady, rise.
HIPPOLYTA.
Stand up.
EMILIA.
No knees to me.
What woman I may stead that is distressed,
Does bind me to her.
THESEUS.
What’s your request? Deliver you for all.
FIRST QUEEN.
We are three queens whose sovereigns fell before
The wrath of cruel Creon, who endure
The beaks of ravens, talons of the kites,
And pecks of crows, in the foul fields of Thebes.
He will not suffer us to burn their bones,
To urn their ashes, nor to take th’ offence
Of mortal loathsomeness from the blest eye
Of holy Phœbus, but infects the winds
With stench of our slain lords. O, pity, Duke!
Thou purger of the earth, draw thy feared sword
That does good turns to th’ world; give us the bones
Of our dead kings, that we may chapel them;
And of thy boundless goodness take some note
That for our crowned heads we have no roof
Save this, which is the lion’s and the bear’s,
And vault to everything.