Speeches (Lines) for PIRITHOUS in "The Two Noble Kinsmen"

THESEUS. Pray stand up.
[Hippolyta and Emilia rise.]
I am entreating of myself to do
That which you kneel to have me.--Pirithous,
Lead on the bride; get you and pray the gods
For success and return; omit not anything
In the pretended celebration.--Queens,
Follow your soldier. [To Artesius.] As before, hence you,
And at the banks of Aulis meet us with
The forces you can raise, where we shall find
The moiety of a number for a business
More bigger looked. [Artesius exits.]
[To Hippolyta.] Since that our theme is haste,
I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip;
Sweet, keep it as my token.--Set you forward,
For I will see you gone.
[The wedding procession begins to exit
towards the temple.]
Farewell, my beauteous sister.--Pirithous,
Keep the feast full; bate not an hour on 't.

PIRITHOUS. Sir,
I'll follow you at heels. The feast's solemnity
Shall want till your return.

ARCITE. Let th' event,
That never-erring arbitrator, tell us
When we know all ourselves, and let us follow
The becking of our chance.
[They exit.]

PIRITHOUS. [Enter Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia.]
No further.

HIPPOLYTA. Sir, farewell. Repeat my wishes
To our great lord, of whose success I dare not
Make any timorous question; yet I wish him
Excess and overflow of power, an 't might be,
To dure ill-dealing fortune. Speed to him.
Store never hurts good governors.

PIRITHOUS. Though I know
His ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they
Must yield their tribute there.--My precious maid,
Those best affections that the heavens infuse
In their best-tempered pieces keep enthroned
In your dear heart!

HIPPOLYTA. In 's bosom.
We have been soldiers, and we cannot weep
When our friends don their helms or put to sea,
Or tell of babes broached on the lance, or women
That have sod their infants in--and after ate them--
The brine they wept at killing 'em. Then if
You stay to see of us such spinsters, we
Should hold you here forever.

PIRITHOUS. Peace be to you
As I pursue this war, which shall be then
Beyond further requiring.
[Pirithous exits.]

THESEUS. You are perfect.

PIRITHOUS. Upon my soul, a proper man.

EMILIA. He is so.

PIRITHOUS. [to Hippolyta]
How do you like him, lady?

HIPPOLYTA. But his body
And fiery mind illustrate a brave father.

PIRITHOUS. Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun,
Breaks through his baser garments.

ARCITE. Noble Theseus,
To purchase name and do my ablest service
To such a well-found wonder as thy worth;
For only in thy court, of all the world,
Dwells fair-eyed Honor.

PIRITHOUS. All his words are worthy.

THESEUS. Sir, we are much indebted to your travel,
Nor shall you lose your wish.--Pirithous,
Dispose of this fair gentleman.

PIRITHOUS. Thanks, Theseus.--
Whate'er you are, you're mine, and I shall give you
To a most noble service: to this lady,
This bright young virgin.

[He brings Arcite to Emilia.]

Pray observe her goodness;
You have honored her fair birthday with yourvirtues,
And, as your due, you're hers. Kiss her fair hand, sir.

EMILIA. That were too cruel.
If you deserve well, sir, I shall soon see 't.
You're mine, and somewhat better than your rank
I'll use you.

PIRITHOUS. [to Arcite]

I'll see you furnished, and because you say
You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you
This afternoon to ride--but 'tis a rough one.

THESEUS. What have we here?

PIRITHOUS. Some country sport, upon my life, sir.

THESEUS. Ay, ay, by any means, dear Domine.

PIRITHOUS. Produce!

THESEUS. Schoolmaster, I thank you.--One see 'em all rewarded.

[An Attendant gives money.]

PIRITHOUS. And here's something to paint your pole withal.

[He gives money.]

PALAMON. Hold thy word, Theseus.
We are certainly both traitors, both despisers
Of thee and of thy goodness. I am Palamon,
That cannot love thee, he that broke thy prison.
Think well what that deserves. And this is Arcite.
A bolder traitor never trod thy ground,
A falser ne'er seemed friend. This is the man
Was begged and banished; this is he contemns thee
And what thou dar'st do; and in this disguise,
Against thine own edict, follows thy sister,
That fortunate bright star, the fair Emilia,
Whose servant--if there be a right in seeing
And first bequeathing of the soul to--justly
I am; and, which is more, dares think her his.
This treachery, like a most trusty lover,
I called him now to answer. If thou be'st
As thou art spoken, great and virtuous,
The true decider of all injuries,
Say "Fight again," and thou shalt see me, Theseus,
Do such a justice thou thyself wilt envy.
Then take my life; I'll woo thee to 't.

PIRITHOUS. O heaven,
What more than man is this!

THESEUS. These are strange conjurings.

PIRITHOUS. Nay, then, I'll in too.

[He kneels.]

By all our friendship, sir, by all our dangers;
By all you love most, wars and this sweet lady--

THESEUS. By your own eyes; by strength,
In which you swore I went beyond all women,
Almost all men, and yet I yielded, Theseus--

PIRITHOUS. To crown all this: by your most noble soul,
Which cannot want due mercy, I beg first--

EMILIA. Last let me entreat, sir--

PIRITHOUS. For mercy.

THESEUS. What is it, sister?

PIRITHOUS. Urge it home, brave lady.

PALAMON. He's a villain, then.

PIRITHOUS. These are men!

THESEUS. What may be done? For now I feel compassion.

PIRITHOUS. Let it not fall again, sir.

THESEUS. Who saw 'em?

PIRITHOUS. I awhile.

THESEUS. Thou hast well described him.

PIRITHOUS. Yet a great deal short,
Methinks, of him that's first with Palamon.

THESEUS. Pray speak him, friend.

PIRITHOUS. I guess he is a prince too,
And, if it may be, greater; for his show
Has all the ornament of honor in 't:
He's somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of,
But of a face far sweeter; his complexion
Is, as a ripe grape, ruddy. He has felt
Without doubt what he fights for, and so apter
To make this cause his own. In 's face appears
All the fair hopes of what he undertakes,
And when he's angry, then a settled valor,
Not tainted with extremes, runs through his body
And guides his arm to brave things. Fear he cannot;
He shows no such soft temper. His head's yellow,
Hard-haired and curled, thick-twined like ivy tods,
Not to undo with thunder. In his face
The livery of the warlike maid appears,
Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blessed him.
And in his rolling eyes sits Victory,
As if she ever meant to crown his valor.
His nose stands high, a character of honor;
His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies.

EMILIA. Must these men die too?

PIRITHOUS. When he speaks, his tongue
Sounds like a trumpet. All his lineaments
Are as a man would wish 'em, strong and clean.
He wears a well-steeled axe, the staff of gold;
His age some five-and-twenty.

MESSENGER. There's another--
A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming
As great as any; fairer promises
In such a body yet I never looked on.

PIRITHOUS. O, he that's freckle-faced?

MESSENGER. The same, my lord.
Are they not sweet ones?

PIRITHOUS. Yes, they are well.

THESEUS. Are they all thus?

PIRITHOUS. They are all the sons of honor.

THESEUS. [to Emilia]
You have steeled 'em with your beauty.

[To Pirithous.]
Honored friend,
To you I give the field; pray order it
Fitting the persons that must use it.

PIRITHOUS. Yes, sir.

THESEUS. Come, I'll go visit 'em. I cannot stay--
Their fame has fired me so--till they appear.
Good friend, be royal.

PIRITHOUS. There shall want no bravery.

[All but Emilia exit.]

THESEUS. [Flourish. Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta,
and Attendants. Three altars set up onstage.]

Now let 'em enter and before the gods
Tender their holy prayers. Let the temples
Burn bright with sacred fires, and the altars
In hallowed clouds commend their swelling incense
To those above us. Let no due be wanting.
They have a noble work in hand will honor
The very powers that love 'em.

PIRITHOUS. Sir, they enter.

THESEUS. [Flourish of cornets. Enter Palamon and Arcite
and their Knights.]
You valiant and strong-hearted enemies,
You royal german foes, that this day come
To blow that nearness out that flames between you,
Lay by your anger for an hour and, dove-like,
Before the holy altars of your helpers,
The all-feared gods, bow down your stubborn bodies.
Your ire is more than mortal; so your help be.
And as the gods regard you, fight with justice.
I'll leave you to your prayers, and betwixt you
I part my wishes.

PIRITHOUS. Honor crown the worthiest!

[Theseus and his train exit.]

EMILIA. [Flourish. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta,
Emilia, Pirithous, and some Attendants.]

I'll no step further.

PIRITHOUS. Will you lose this sight?

EMILIA. I had rather see a wren hawk at a fly
Than this decision; ev'ry blow that falls
Threats a brave life; each stroke laments
The place whereon it falls, and sounds more like
A bell than blade. I will stay here.
It is enough my hearing shall be punished
With what shall happen, 'gainst the which there is
No deafing but to hear; not taint mine eye
With dread sights it may shun.

PIRITHOUS. [to Theseus]
Sir, my good lord,
Your sister will no further.

MESSENGER. Hold, hold! O, hold, hold, hold!

[Enter Pirithous in haste.]

PIRITHOUS. Hold, ho! It is a cursed haste you made
If you have done so quickly!--Noble Palamon,
The gods will show their glory in a life
That thou art yet to lead.

PALAMON. Can that be,
When Venus, I have said, is false? How do things fare?

PIRITHOUS. Arise, great sir, and give the tidings ear
That are most dearly sweet and bitter.

PALAMON. [rising]
What
Hath waked us from our dream?

PIRITHOUS. List then: your cousin,
Mounted upon a steed that Emily
Did first bestow on him--a black one, owing
Not a hair worth of white, which some will say
Weakens his price, and many will not buy
His goodness with this note, which superstition
Here finds allowance--on this horse is Arcite
Trotting the stones of Athens--which the calkins
Did rather tell than trample, for the horse
Would make his length a mile, if 't pleased his rider
To put pride in him. As he thus went counting
The flinty pavement, dancing, as 'twere, to th' music
His own hooves made--for, as they say, from iron
Came music's origin--what envious flint,
Cold as old Saturn, and like him possessed
With fire malevolent, darted a spark,
Or what fierce sulphur else, to this end made,
I comment not; the hot horse, hot as fire,
Took toy at this and fell to what disorder
His power could give his will; bounds, comes on end,
Forgets school-doing, being therein trained
And of kind manage. Pig-like he whines
At the sharp rowel, which he frets at rather
Than any jot obeys; seeks all foul means
Of boist'rous and rough jadery to disseat
His lord that kept it bravely. When naught served,
When neither curb would crack, girth break, nor diff'ring plunges
Disroot his rider whence he grew, but that
He kept him 'tween his legs, on his hind hoofs
On end he stands
That Arcite's legs, being higher than his head,
Seemed with strange art to hang. His victor's wreath
Even then fell off his head, and presently
Backward the jade comes o'er, and his full poise
Becomes the rider's load. Yet is he living,
But such a vessel 'tis that floats but for
The surge that next approaches. He much desires
To have some speech with you. Lo, he appears.

[Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia,
and Arcite carried in a chair.]