_Arc._ If a good title, I'm persuaded this question sick between's, By bleeding must be cur'd. I'm a Suitor, That to your Sword you will bequeath this plea, And talk of it no more. _Pal._ But this one word: You are going now to gaze upon my Mistris, For note you, mine she is. _Arc._ Nay then. _Pal._ Nay pray you, You talk of feeding me to breed me strength You are going now to look upon a Sun That strengthens what it looks on, there You have a vantage o'er me, but enjoy't till I may enforce my remedy. Farewell. [_Exeunt._ _Scæna Secunda._ _Enter Jaylors daughter alone._ _Daugh._ He has mistook; the Beak I meant, is gone After his fancy, 'Tis now welnigh morning, No matter, would it were perpetuall 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 wreak not if the wolves would jaw me, so He had this Fi[l]e; what if I hollow'd for him? I cannot hollow: if I whoop'd; what then? If he not answer'd, I should call a wolf, And doe him but that service. I have heard Strange howls this live-long night, why may't not be They have made prey of him? he has no weapons, He cannot run, the Jengling of his Gives Might call fell things to listen, who have in them A sence to know a man unarm'd, and can Smell where resistance is. I'll set it down He's torn to peeces, they howl'd many together And then they fed on him: So much for that, Be bold to ring the Bell; How stand I then? All's char'd when he is gone, No, no I lye, My Father's to be hang'd for his escape, My self to beg, if I priz'd life so much As to deny my act, but that I would not, Should I try death by dussons: I am mop't, Food took I non[e] these two daies. Sipt some water, I have not clos'd mine eyes Save when my lids scowrd off their bine; alas Dissolve my life, Let not my sence unsettle Least I should drown, or stab or hang my self. O state of Nature, fail together in me, Since thy best props are warpt: So which way now? The best way is, the next way to a grave: Each errant step beside is torment. Loe The Moon is down, the Cr'ckets chirpe, the Schreich-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._ _Scæna Tertia._ _Enter Arcite, with Meat, Wine, and Files._ _Arc._ I should be near the place, hoa. Cosen _Palamon_. _Enter Palamon._ _Pal. Arcite?_ _Arc._ The same: I have brought you food and files, Come forth and fear not, here's no _Theseus_. _Pal._ Nor none so honest _Arcite_.