_Emilia._ Yes. You talk of Perithous' and Theseus' love: Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seas|oned, More buckled with strong judgment; and their needs, The one of the other, may be said to wat|er Their intertangled roots of love.--But I And she I sigh and spoke of, were things in|nocent,-- Loved for we did, and,--like the elements, That know not what nor why, yet do effect Rare issues by their operance,--our souls Did so to one another. What she liked, Was then of me approved; what not, condemned. No more arraign|ment.| The flower that I would pluck, And put between my breasts, (then but begin|ning To swell about the blossom,) she would long Till she had such another, and commit | it To the like innocent cradle, where, phœnix-like, They died in perfume; on my head, no toy But was her pattern; her affections, (pret|ty, Though happily her careless wear,) I fol|low'd For my most serious decking.--Had mine ear Stolen some new air, or at adventure humm'd From musical coinage,--why, it was a note Whereon her spirits would sojourn, rather dwell | on, And sing it in her slumbers.--This rehears|al [34:2](Which, every innocent wots well, comes in Like old importment's bastard) has this end, That the true love 'tween maid and maid may be More than in sex dividual.... [Sidenote: Act I. scene iv. Shakspere's.] The fourth scene is laid in a battle-field near Thebes, and Theseus enters victorious. The three queens fall down with thanks before him; and a herald announces the capture of the Two Noble Kinsmen, wounded and senseless, and scarcely retaining the semblance of life. [Sidenote: Has Shakspere's words and quibbles.] The phraseology of this short scene is like Shakspeare's, being brief and energetic, and in one or two instances passing into quibbles. [Sidenote: Act I. scene v. is Shakspere's.] The last scene of this act is of a lyrical cast, and comprised in a few lamentations spoken by the widowed queens over the corpses of their dead lords. It ends with this couplet: The world's a city full of straying streets, And death's the market-place, where each one meets. [Sidenote: Act II. not Shakspere's.]