_Daugh._ Why should I love this Gentleman? 'Tis odds He never will affect me; [I am] base, My Father the mean Keeper of his Prison, And he a Prince; To marry him is hopeless; To be his whore, is witles; Out upon't; What pushes are we wenches driven to When fifteen once has found us? First I saw him, I (seeing) thought he was a goodly man; He has as much to please a woman in him, (If he please to bestow it so) as ever These eyes yet lookt on; Next, I pittied him, And so would any young wench o'my Conscience That ever dream'd, or vow'd her Maydenhead To a young hansom Man; Then I lov'd him, (Extremely lov'd him) infinitely lov'd him; And yet he had [a] Cosen, fair as he too. But in my heart was _Palamon_, and there Lord, what a coyl he keepes! To hear him Sing in an evening, what a Heaven it is! And yet his Songs are sad-ones; Fairer spoken, Was never Gentleman. When I come in To bring him water in a morning, first He bows his noble body, then salutes me, thus: Fair, gentle Mayd, good morrow, may thy goodness, Get thee a happy husband; Once he kist me, I lov'd my lips the better ten daies after, Would he would doe so ev'ry day; He greives much, And me as much to see his misery: What should I doe, to make him know I love him, For I would fain enjoy him? Say I ventur'd To set him free? What saies the Law then? Thus much For Law, or kindred: I will doe it, And this night, or to morrow he shall love me. [_Exit._ [_This short florish of Cornets and Showtes within._ _Scæna_ [5]. _Enter Theseus, Hippolita, Pirithous, Emilia: Arcite_ _with a Garland, &c._ _Thes._ You have done worthily; I have not seen Since _Hercules_, a man of tougher sinews; What ere you are, you run the best, and wrestle, That these times can allow. _Arcite._ I'm proud to please you. _Thes._ What Countrie bred you? _Arcite._ This; But far off, Prince. _Thes._ Are you a Gentleman? _Arcite._ My father said so; And to those gentle uses gave me life. _Thes._ Are you his heir? _Arcite._ His youngest Sir. _Thes._ Your Father Sure is a happy S[ir]e, then: What proves you? _Arcite._ A little of all noble Qualities: I could have kept a Hawk, and well have hollow'd To a deep crie of Dogs; I dare not praise My feat in horsemanship: yet they that knew me Would say it was my best peece: last, and greatest, I would be thought a Soldier. _Thes._ You are perfect. _Pirith._ Upon my soul, a proper man. _Emilia._ He is so. _Per._ How doe you like him Ladie? _Hip._ I admire him, I have not seen so young a man, so noble (If he say true,) of his sort. _Emil._ Believe, His mother was a wondrous handsome woman, His face me thinks, goes that way.