_Thes._ Th'impartial gods, who from the mounted heavens View us their mortal Herd, behold who erre, And in their time chastise: goe and find out The bones of your dead Lords, and honor them With treble ceremony, rather than a gap Should be in their dear rights, we would supply't. But those we will depute, which shall invest You in your dignities, and even each thing Our haste does leave imperfect; So adieu And heavens good eyes look on you, what are those? [_Exeunt_ Queens. _Herald._ Men of great quality, as may be judg'd By their appointment; some of _Thebs_ have told's They are Sisters children, Nephews to the King. _Thes._ By th' Helme of _Mars_, I saw them in the War, Like to a pair of Lions, smear'd with prey, Make lanes in troops agast. I fixt my note Constantly on them; for they were a mark Worth a god's view: what prisoner was't that told me When I enquir'd their names? _Herald._ We leave, they'r called _Arcite_ and _Palamon_. _Thes._ 'Tis right, those, those They are not dead? [_Three Hearses ready._ _Her._ Nor in a state of life, had they been taken When their last hurts were given, 'twas possible They might have been recover'd; Yet they breathe And have the name of men. _Thes._ Then like men use 'em The very lees of such (millions of rates) Exceed the Wine of others, all our Surgeons Convent in their behoof, our richest balmes Rather than niggard waste, their lives concern us, Much more than _Thebs_ is worth, rather than have 'em Freed of this plight, and in their morning state (Sound and at liberty) I would 'em dead, But forty thousand fold, we had rather have 'em Prisoners to us, than death; bear 'em speedily From our kind air, to them unkind, and minister What man to man may do for our sake more, Since I have known frights, fury, friends, beheasts, Loves, provocations, zeal, a Mistriss taske, Desire of liberty, a feavor, madness, Hath set a mark which nature could not reach too Without some imposition, sickness in Will Or wrestling strength in reason, for our Love And great _Apollos_ mercy, all our best, Their best [skill] tender. Lead into the City, Where having bound things scatter'd, we will post. _Florish._ To _Athens_ for o[u]r Army. [_Exeunt. Musick._ _Scena Quinta._ _Enter the Queens, with the Hearses of their Knights,_ _in a Funeral Solemnity_, &c. _Urns and Odours, bring away,_ _Vapors, sighs, darken the day;_ _Our dole more deadly looks, than dying_ _Balmes, and Gumms, and heavy cheers,_ _Sacred vi[a]ls fill'd with tears,_ _And clamors, through the wild air flying_: