Page 1335 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

May rude wind never hurt thee. O my lady,
If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was,
Dream how I suffer. − Come, now bury me.
Exeunt.

Scene II IT

Enter Arcite.

ARCITE
Banished the kingdom? ’Tis a benefit,
A mercy I must thank ’em for; but banished

The free enjoying of that face I die for,
O, ’twas a studied punishment, a death
Beyond imagination; such a vengeance [5]
That, were I old and wicked, all my sins

Could never pluck upon me. Palamon,
Thou hast the start now; thou shalt stay and see
Her bright eyes break each morning ’gainst thy window,
And let in life into thee; thou shalt feed [10]

Upon the sweetness of a noble beauty
That Nature ne’er exceeded, nor ne’er shall.
Good gods, what happiness has Palamon!
Twenty to one, he’ll come to speak to her,

And if she be as gentle as she’s fair, [15]
I know she’s his; he has a tongue will tame
Tempests, and make the wild rocks wanton. Come what can come,
The worst is death; I will not leave the kingdom.

I know mine own is but a heap of ruins,
And no redress there. If I go, he has her. [20]
I am resolved another shape shall make me,
Or end my fortunes. Either way, I am happy;

I’ll see her and be near her, or no more.

Enter four Country-people and one with a garland before them.

FIRST COUNTRYMAN