JAILER
Hear you no more? Was nothing said of me
Concerning the escape of Palamon?
Good sir, remember.
FIRST FRIEND
Nothing that I heard,
For I came home before the business
Was fully ended. Yet I might perceive,
I departed, a great likelihood
Of both their pardons; for Hippolyta
And fair-eyed Emily, upon their knees,
Begged with such handsome pity that the Duke
Methought stood staggering whether he should follow
His rash oath or the sweet compassion
Of those two ladies. And, to second them,
That truly noble prince, Pirithous,
Half his own heart, set in too, that I hope
All shall be well. Neither heard I one question
Of your name or his ’scape.
JAILER
Pray heaven it hold so.
SECOND FRIEND
Be of good comfort, man; I bring you news,
Good news.
JAILER
They are welcome.
SECOND FRIEND
Palamon has cleared you,
And got your pardon, and discovered how
And by whose means he escaped, which was your daughter’s,
Whose pardon is procured too; and the prisoner,
Not to be held ungrateful to her goodness,
Has given a sum of money to her marriage,
A large one, I’ll assure you.
JAILER
You are a good man
And ever bring good news.
FIRST FRIEND
How was it ended?
SECOND FRIEND
Why, as it should be; they that never begged
But they prevailed had their suits fairly granted;
The prisoners have their lives.
FIRST FRIEND
I knew ’twould be so.
SECOND FRIEND
But there be new conditions, which you’ll hear of
At better time.
JAILER
I hope they are good.
SECOND FRIEND
They are honourable;
How good they’ll prove, I know not.
FIRST FRIEND
’Twill be known.
WOOER
Alas, sir, where’s your daughter?
JAILER
Why do you ask?
WOOER
O, sir, when did you see her?
SECOND FRIEND
How he looks?
JAILER
This morning.
WOOER
Was she well? Was she in health, sir?
When did she sleep?
FIRST FRIEND
These are strange questions.
JAILER
I do not think she was very well, for now
You make me mind her, but this very day
I asked her questions, and she answered me
So far from what she was, so childishly,
So sillily, as if she were a fool,
An innocent, and I was very angry.
But what of her, sir?
WOOER
Nothing but my pity.
But you must know it, and as good by me
As by another that less loves her.
JAILER
Well, sir?
FIRST FRIEND
Not right?
SECOND FRIEND
Not well?
WOOER
No, sir, not well:
too true, she is mad.
FIRST FRIEND
It cannot be.
WOOER
Believe, you’ll find it so.
JAILER
I half suspected
What you have told me. The gods comfort her!
Either this was her love to Palamon,
Or fear of my miscarrying on his ’scape,
Or both.
WOOER
likely.
JAILER
But why all this haste, sir?
WOOER
I’ll tell you quickly. As I late was angling
In the great lake that lies behind the palace,
From the far shore, thick set with reeds and sedges,
As patiently I was attending sport,
I heard a voice, a shrill one; and, attentive,
I gave my ear, when I might well perceive
one that sung, and by the smallness of it
A boy or woman. I then left my angle
To his own skill, came near, but yet perceived not
Who made the sound, the rushes and the reeds
Had so encompassed it. I laid me down
And listened to the words she sung, for then,
Through a small glade cut by the fishermen,
I saw it was your daughter.
JAILER
Pray, go on, sir.
WOOER
She sung much, but no sense; only I heard her
Repeat this often: “Palamon is gone,
Is gone to th’ wood to gather mulberries;
I’ll find him out tomorrow.”
FIRST FRIEND
Pretty soul!
WOOER
“His shackles will betray him; he’ll be taken,
And what shall I do then? I’ll bring a bevy,
A hundred black-eyed maids that love as I do,
With chaplets on their heads of daffadillies,
With cherry lips and cheeks of damask roses,
And all we’ll dance an antic ’fore the Duke,
And beg his pardon.” Then she talked of you, sir;
That you must lose your head tomorrow morning,
And she must gather flowers to bury you,
And see the house made handsome. Then she sung
Nothing but “Willow, willow, willow,” and between
Ever was “Palamon, fair Palamon,”
And “Palamon was a tall young man.” The place
Was knee-deep where she sat; her careless tresses,
A wreath of bulrush rounded; about her stuck
Thousand fresh water-flowers of several colours,
That methought she appeared like the fair nymph
That feeds the lake with waters, or as Iris
Newly dropped down from heaven. Rings she made
Of rushes that grew by, and to ’em spoke
The prettiest posies: “Thus our true love’s tied,”
“This you may loose, not me,” and many a one;
And then she wept, and sung again, and sighed,
And with the same breath smiled and kissed her hand.
SECOND FRIEND
Alas, what pity it is!
WOOER
I made in to her.
She saw me, and straight sought the flood. I saved her
And set her safe to land, when
She slipped away, and to the city made
With such a cry and swiftness that, believe me,
She left me far behind her. Three or four
I saw from far off cross her—one of ’em
I knew to be your brother—where she stayed
And fell, scarce to be got away. I left them with her
And came to tell you.
WOOER
Here they are.
DAUGHTER
May you never more enjoy the light, &c.
DAUGHTER
Is not this a fine song?
BROTHER
O, a very fine one.
DAUGHTER
I can sing twenty more.
BROTHER
I think you can.
DAUGHTER
Yes, truly can I. I can sing “The Broom”
and “Bonny Robin.” Are not you a tailor?
BROTHER
Yes.
DAUGHTER
Where’s my wedding gown?
BROTHER
I’ll bring it tomorrow.
DAUGHTER
Do, very rarely, I must be abroad else
To call the maids and pay the minstrels,
For I must lose my maidenhead by cocklight.
’Twill never thrive else.
O fair, O sweet, &c.
BROTHER
You must take it patiently.
JAILER
true.
DAUGHTER
Good ev’n, good men; pray, did you ever hear
Of one young Palamon?
JAILER
Yes, , we know him.
DAUGHTER
Is’t not a fine young gentleman?
JAILER
, love.
BROTHER
By no means cross her; she is then distempered
Far worse than now she shows.
FIRST FRIEND
Yes, he’s a fine man.
DAUGHTER
O, is he so? You have a sister?
FIRST FRIEND
Yes.
DAUGHTER
But she shall never have him, tell her so,
For a trick that I know; you’d best look to her,
For if she see him once, she’s gone, she’s done,
And undone in an hour. All the young maids
Of our town are in love with him, but I laugh at ’em
And let ’em all alone. Is ’t not a wise course?
FIRST FRIEND
Yes.
DAUGHTER
There is at least two hundred now with child by him—
There must be four; yet I keep close for all this,
Close as a cockle; and all these must be boys
He has the trick on ’t; and at ten years old
They must be all gelt for musicians
And sing the wars of Theseus.
SECOND FRIEND
This is strange.
DAUGHTER
As ever you heard, but say nothing.
FIRST FRIEND
No.
DAUGHTER
They come from all parts of the dukedom to him.
I’ll warrant , he had not so few last night
As twenty to dispatch. He’ll tickle ’t up
In two hours, if his hand be in.
JAILER
She’s lost
Past all cure.
BROTHER
Heaven forbid, man!
DAUGHTER
Come , you are a wise man.
FIRST FRIEND
Does she know him?
SECOND FRIEND
No, would she did.
DAUGHTER
You are master of a ship?
JAILER
Yes.
DAUGHTER
Where’s your compass?
JAILER
Here.
DAUGHTER
Set it to th’ north.
And now direct your course to th’ wood, where Palamon
Lies longing for me. For the tackling,
Let me alone. Come, weigh, my hearts, cheerly.
ALL
Owgh, owgh, owgh! up, the wind’s fair!
Top the bowline; out with the mainsail;
Where’s your whistle, master?
BROTHER
Let’s get her in.
JAILER
Up to the top, boy.
BROTHER
Where’s the pilot?
FIRST FRIEND
Here.
DAUGHTER
What kenn’st ?
SECOND FRIEND
A fair wood.
DAUGHTER
Bear for it, master. Tack about!
When Cinthia with her borrowed light, &c.