SCENE II..

-

Another Part of the Forest.

Enter Jailer's Daughter.

Daugh. He has mistook the brake I meant; is gone After his fancy. 'Tis now well-nigh morning;

No matter would it were perpetual night,

And darkness lord o' the world! Hark! 'tis a wolf:
In me hath grief slain fear, and, but one thing,

I care for nothing, and that's Palamon :

I reck not if the wolves would jaw me, so

He had this file. What if I holla'd for him?
I cannot holla: if I whoop'd, what then?
If he not answer'd, I should call a wolf,
And do 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 jingling of his gyves
Might call fell things to listen, who have in them
A sense to know a man unarm’d, and can
Smell where resistance is. I'll set it down
He's torn to pieces; 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 chared when he is gone. No, no, I lie;
My father's to be hang'd for his escape;
Myself to beg, if I prized life so much

As to deny my act; but that I would not,
Should I try death by dozens. I am moped:
Food took I none these two days; once, indeed,

1 The whole work or task is done when he has got free. Here we have the old word chare used as a verb. See vol. xvi. page 136, note 12.—“Be bold to ring the bell," probably refers to the bell of the prison, which will be rung as an alarm-signal when Palamon is found to have escaped.

I sipp'd some water; have not closed mine eyes,
Save when my lids scour'd off their brine. Alas,
Dissolve, my life! let not my sense unsettle,
Lest I should drown, or stab, or hang myself!
O state of nature, fail together in me,

Since thy best props are warp'd! So, which way now?
The best way is the next 2 way to a grave:

3

Each errant step beside is torment. Lo,

The Moon is down, the crickets chirp, the screech-owl
Calls in the dawn! all offices are done,

Save what I fail in
An end, and that is

:

but the point is this,

all.4

[Exit.

*SCENE III. The same Part of the Forest as in Scene I.

*Enter ARCITE, with meat, wine, files, &c.

*Arc. I should be near the place. -- Ho, cousin Palamon! *Enter PALAMON.

*Pal. Arcite?

2 Next for nearest. Repeatedly so. See vol. xi. page 81, note 31. 8 Errant in the Latin sense of wandering or roving.

4 This scene gives an instance of Shakespeare's judgment. It can hardly be said to explain any necessary circumstance of the play; and so many scenes in which this character appears alone are rather injurious to the action but it supplies the due gradation between a mind diseased and madness; and, in connection with another scene at which we shall shortly arrive, it displays a depth of insight into the psychological character of this state only excelled by Shakespeare himself, in King Lear. Let our readers observe in particular the unselfish anxiety of the Jailer's Daughter for Palamon's safety, and her subsequent terror at her own disordered senses. The introduction of the popular notion that wild beasts have "a sense to know a man unarm'd" is quite a Shakespearian illustration; and we do not know an instance of finer drawing than this of her imagination painting, as absolute reality, the subject of her first fear. From this conviction (of Palamon's death) we come naturally to the concluding lines, beyond which the next step is madness.- HICKSON.

*Arc. *Come forth, and fear not; here's no Theseus.

The same I've brought you food and files.

That's no matter:

*Pal. Nor none so honest, Arcite. *Arc. *We'll argue that hereafter. Come, take courage; *You shall not die thus beastly: here, sir, drink; *I know you're faint; then I'll talk further with you. *Pal. Arcite, thou mightst now poison me.

*Arc. I might ; *But I must fear you first. Sit down; and, good now, *No more of these vain parleys: let us not,

*Having our ancient reputation with us,

*Make talk for fools and cowards. To your health!

*Pal. Do. *Arc.

*[Drinks.

Pray, sit down, then; and let me entreat you,

*By all the honesty and honour in you,

*No mention of this woman! 'twill disturb us;

*We shall have time enough.

*Pal.

Well, sir, I'll pledge you.

*[Drinks.

*Arc. Drink a good hearty draught; it breeds good blood,

Not much:

*But, if it did, yours is too tart, sweet cousin.

*What is this?

'Tis a lusty meat.

*Give me more wine: here, Arcite, to the wenches

*We've known in our days! The lord-steward's daughter; *Do you remember her?

*Arc.

*Pal. She loved a black-hair'd man.

*Arc.

After you, coz.

She did so well, sir?

*Pal. And I have heard some call him Arcite; and

*Arc. Out with it, faith!

*Pal.

She met him in an arbour:

*What did she there, coz? play o' the virginals?

*Arc. Something she did, sir.

*Pal.

*Or two, or three, or ten.

*Arc.

Made her groan a month for't;

The marshal's sister

*Had her share too, as I remember, cousin,

*Else there be tales abroad: you'll pledge her?

*Pal.

Yes.

*Arc. A pretty brown wench 'tis : there was a time *When young men went a-hunting, and a wood, *And a broad beech; and thereby hangs a tale. *Heigh-ho!

*Pal. For Emily, upon my life! Fool, *Away with this strain'd mirth! I say again, *That sigh was breathed for Emily: base cousin,

*Arc. There's all things needful, files, and shirts, and

*perfumes :

*I'll come again some two hours hence, and bring

*That that shall quiet all.

*Pal.

A sword and armour?

*Arc. Fear me not.

You are now too foul: farewell:

*Get off your trinkets; you shall want nought.

If he keep touch, he dies for't.

*SCENE IV. Another Part of the Forest.

*Enter Jailer's Daughter.

*[Exit.

*Daugh. I'm very cold; and all the stars are out too, *The little stars, and all that look like aglets:

*The Sun has seen my folly. *Alas, no! he's in Heaven.

Palamon!

1

Where am I now?

*Yonder's the sea, and there's a ship: how't tumbles !

1 Aglets from the French aiguillette, were small bright ornaments, worn by men chiefly as tags to their laces, and by ladies as pendants or brilliants in their head-dress. So in The Faerie Queene, ii. 3, 26, describing how Belphoebe was clad:

All in a silken camus lilly whight,

Purfled upon with many a folded plight,
Which all above besprinckled was throughout
With golden aygulets, that glistred bright,
Like twinckling starres.