FOURTH COUNTRYMAN. Content; the sports once ended, we’ll perform. Away, boys, and hold. ARCITE. By your leaves, honest friends: pray you, whither go you? FOURTH COUNTRYMAN. Whither? Why, what a question’s that? ARCITE. Yes, ’tis a question To me that know not. THIRD COUNTRYMAN. To the games, my friend. SECOND COUNTRYMAN. Where were you bred, you know it not? ARCITE. Not far, sir; Are there such games today? FIRST COUNTRYMAN. Yes, marry, are there, And such as you never saw; the Duke himself Will be in person there. ARCITE. What pastimes are they? SECOND COUNTRYMAN. Wrestling, and running.—’Tis a pretty fellow. THIRD COUNTRYMAN. Thou wilt not go along? ARCITE. Not yet, sir. FOURTH COUNTRYMAN. Well, sir, Take your own time. Come, boys. FIRST COUNTRYMAN. My mind misgives me, This fellow has a vengeance trick o’ th’ hip; Mark how his body’s made for ’t. SECOND COUNTRYMAN. I’ll be hanged, though, If he dare venture. Hang him, plum porridge! He wrestle? He roast eggs! Come, let’s be gone, lads. [_Exeunt Countrymen._] ARCITE. This is an offered opportunity I durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled— The best men called it excellent—and run Swifter than wind upon a field of corn, Curling the wealthy ears, never flew. I’ll venture, And in some poor disguise be there. Who knows Whether my brows may not be girt with garlands, And happiness prefer me to a place Where I may ever dwell in sight of her? [_Exit Arcite._] SCENE IV. Athens. A room in the prison Enter Jailer’s Daughter alone. DAUGHTER. 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 witless. 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 looked on. Next, I pitied him, And so would any young wench, o’ my conscience, That ever dreamed, or vowed her maidenhead To a young handsome man. Then I loved him, Extremely loved him, infinitely loved him! And yet he had a cousin, fair as he too, But in my heart was Palamon, and there, Lord, what a coil he keeps! 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 maid, good morrow. May thy goodness Get thee a happy husband.” Once he kissed me; I loved my lips the better ten days after. Would he would do so ev’ry day! He grieves much— And me as much to see his misery. What should I do to make him know I love him? For I would fain enjoy him. Say I ventured To set him free? What says the law then? Thus much for law or kindred! I will do it; And this night, or tomorrow, he shall love me. [_Exit._] SCENE V. An open place in Athens