HIPPOLITA. I admire him; I have not seene so yong a man so noble (If he say true,) of his sort. EMILIA. Beleeve, His mother was a wondrous handsome woman; His face, me thinkes, goes that way. HIPPOLITA. But his Body And firie minde illustrate a brave Father. PERITHOUS. Marke how his vertue, like a hidden Sun, Breakes through his baser garments. HIPPOLITA. Hee’s well got, sure. THESEUS. What made you seeke this place, Sir? ARCITE. Noble Theseus, To purchase name, and doe my ablest service To such a well-found wonder as thy worth, For onely in thy Court, of all the world, Dwells faire-eyd honor. PERITHOUS. All his words are worthy. THESEUS. Sir, we are much endebted to your travell, Nor shall you loose your wish: Perithous, Dispose of this faire Gentleman. PERITHOUS. Thankes, Theseus. What ere you are y’ar mine, and I shall give you To a most noble service, to this Lady, This bright yong Virgin; pray, observe her goodnesse; You have honourd hir faire birth-day with your vertues, And as your due y’ar hirs: kisse her faire hand, Sir. ARCITE. Sir, y’ar a noble Giver: dearest Bewtie, Thus let me seale my vowd faith: when your Servant (Your most unworthie Creature) but offends you, Command him die, he shall. EMILIA. That were too cruell. If you deserve well, Sir, I shall soone see’t: Y’ar mine, and somewhat better than your rancke Ile use you. PERITHOUS. Ile see you furnish’d, and because you say You are a horseman, I must needs intreat you This after noone to ride, but tis a rough one. ARCITE. I like him better, Prince, I shall not then Freeze in my Saddle. THESEUS. Sweet, you must be readie, And you, Emilia, and you, Friend, and all, To morrow by the Sun, to doe observance To flowry May, in Dians wood: waite well, Sir, Vpon your Mistris. Emely, I hope He shall not goe a foote. EMILIA. That were a shame, Sir, While I have horses: take your choice, and what You want at any time, let me but know it; If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you You’l finde a loving Mistris. ARCITE. If I doe not, Let me finde that my Father ever hated, Disgrace and blowes. THESEUS. Go, leade the way; you have won it: It shall be so; you shall receave all dues Fit for the honour you have won; Twer wrong else. Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a Servant, That, if I were a woman, would be Master, But you are wise. [Florish.] EMILIA. I hope too wise for that, Sir. [Exeunt omnes.] Scaena 6. (Before the prison.) [Enter Iaylors Daughter alone.]