DAUGHTER.
He has mistook the brake I meant, is gone
After his fancy. ’Tis now well-nigh morning.
No matter; would it were perpetual night,
And darkness lord o’ th’ world. Hark, ’tis a wolf!
In me hath grief slain fear, and but for one thing,
I care for nothing, and that’s Palamon.
I reck not if the wolves would jaw me, so
He had this file. What if I hallowed for him?
I cannot hallow. If I whooped, what then?
If he not answered, I should call a wolf,
And do him but that service. I have heard
Strange howls this livelong night; why may ’t not be
They have made prey of him? He has no weapons;
He cannot run; the jingling of his gyves
Might call fell things to listen, who have in them
A sense to know a man unarmed and can
Smell where resistance is. I’ll set it down
He’s torn to pieces; they howled many together,
And then they fed on him. So much for that.
Be bold to ring the bell. How stand I then?
All’s chared when he is gone. No, no, I lie.
My father’s to be hanged for his escape;
Myself to beg, if I prized life so much
As to deny my act; but that I would not,
Should I try death by dozens. I am moped.
Food took I none these two days;
Sipped some water. I have not closed mine eyes
Save when my lids scoured off their brine. Alas,
Dissolve, my life! Let not my sense unsettle,
Lest I should drown, or stab, or hang myself.
O state of nature, fail together in me,
Since thy best props are warped! So, which way now?
The best way is the next way to a grave;
Each errant step beside is torment. Lo,
The moon is down, the crickets chirp, the screech owl
Calls in the dawn. All offices are done
Save what I fail in. But the point is this:
An end, and that is all.
[Exit.]
SCENE III. The same part of the forest as in scene I.
Enter Arcite with meat, wine and files.
ARCITE.
I should be near the place.—Ho! Cousin Palamon!
PALAMON.
[From the bush.] Arcite?
ARCITE.
The same. I have brought you food and files.
Come forth and fear not; here’s no Theseus.
Enter Palamon.
PALAMON.
Nor none so honest, Arcite.
ARCITE.
That’s no matter.
We’ll argue that hereafter. Come, take courage;
You shall not die thus beastly. Here, sir, drink—
I know you are faint—then I’ll talk further with you.