Act III. scenes iv. v.
In the next two scenes, placed in the forest, the jailor's daughter has reached the height of frenzy. Gerrold has no spark of humour. She meets the country[42:1]men who had encountered Arcite, and who are now headed by the learned and high-fantastical schoolmaster Gerrold, a personage who has the pedantry of Shakspeare's Holofernes, without one solitary spark of his humour. They are preparing a dance for the presence of the duke, and the maniac is adopted into their number, to fill up a vacancy. The duke and his train appear,—the pedagogue prologuizes,—the
clowns dance,—and their self-satisfied Coryphaeus apologizes and epiloguizes. Act III. scene iv. v. Fletcher's. Some of Fletcher's very phrases and forms of expression have been traced in these two scenes.
Act III. scene vi.
We have then, in the sixth and last scene of this act, the interrupted combat of the two princes. Fletcher's, not Shakspere's. The scene is a spirited and excellent one; but its tone is Fletcher's, not Shakspeare's. Has not Shakspere's grasp of imagery. The raillery and retort of the dialogue is more lightly playful than his, and less antithetical and sententious; and though there are fine images, they are not seized with the grasp which Shakspeare would have given, sometimes harsh, but always at least decided. Some of the illustrations have been quoted ([page 17]). The knightly courtesy with which the princes arm each other is well supported; and their dignity of greeting before they cross their swords, is fine, exceedingly fine. Nothing can be more beautifully conceived than the change which comes over the temper of the generous Palamon, when he stands on the verge of mortal battle with his enemy. Fletcher's sweet versification and romantic phraseology. His usual heat and impatience give place to the most becoming calmness. The versification is very sweet, and the romantic air of the phraseology is very much Fletcher's, especially towards the end of the following quotation.
Palamon. My cause and honour guard | me.
(They bow several ways, then advance and stand.)
Arcite. And me my love; Is there aught else to say?
Palamon. This only, and no more: Thou art mine aunt's | son,
And that blood we desire to shed is mu|tual;
In me, thine; and in thee, mine. My sword
Is in my hand, and, if thou killest me,
The gods and I forgive thee! If there be
A place prepared for those that sleep in hon|our,
I wish his weary soul that falls may win | it!
Fight bravely, cous|in;| give me thy noble hand!
Arcite. Here, Palamon; this hand shall never more
[43:1]Come near thee with such friendship.