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And pray for me your Souldier.

       Troubled I am. [turnes away.]

       2. QUEEN.

       Honoured Hypolita,

       Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slaine

       The Sith-tuskd Bore; that with thy Arme as strong

       As it is white, wast neere to make the male

       To thy Sex captive, but that this thy Lord,

       Borne to uphold Creation in that honour

       First nature stilde it in, shrunke thee into

       The bownd thou wast ore-flowing, at once subduing

       Thy force, and thy affection: Soldiresse

       That equally canst poize sternenes with pitty,

       Whom now I know hast much more power on him

       Then ever he had on thee, who ow’st his strength

       And his Love too, who is a Servant for

       The Tenour of thy Speech: Deere Glasse of Ladies,

       Bid him that we, whom flaming war doth scortch,

       Vnder the shaddow of his Sword may coole us:

       Require him he advance it ore our heades;

       Speak’t in a womans key: like such a woman

       As any of us three; weepe ere you faile;

       Lend us a knee;

       But touch the ground for us no longer time

       Then a Doves motion, when the head’s pluckt off:

       Tell him if he i’th blood cizd field lay swolne,

       Showing the Sun his Teeth, grinning at the Moone,

       What you would doe.

       HIPPOLITA.

       Poore Lady, say no more:

       I had as leife trace this good action with you

       As that whereto I am going, and never yet

       Went I so willing way. My Lord is taken

       Hart deepe with your distresse: Let him consider:

       Ile speake anon.

       3. QUEEN.

       O my petition was [kneele to Emilia.]

       Set downe in yce, which by hot greefe uncandied

       Melts into drops, so sorrow, wanting forme,

       Is prest with deeper matter.

       EMILIA.

       Pray stand up,

       Your greefe is written in your cheeke.

       3. QUEEN.

       O woe,

       You cannot reade it there, there through my teares—

       Like wrinckled peobles in a glassie streame

       You may behold ‘em. Lady, Lady, alacke,

       He that will all the Treasure know o’th earth

       Must know the Center too; he that will fish

       For my least minnow, let him lead his line

       To catch one at my heart. O pardon me:

       Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,

       Makes me a Foole.

       EMILIA.

       Pray you say nothing, pray you:

       Who cannot feele nor see the raine, being in’t,

       Knowes neither wet nor dry: if that you were

       The ground-peece of some Painter, I would buy you

       T’instruct me gainst a Capitall greefe indeed—

       Such heart peirc’d demonstration; but, alas,

       Being a naturall Sifter of our Sex

       Your sorrow beates so ardently upon me,

       That it shall make a counter reflect gainst

       My Brothers heart, and warme it to some pitty,

       Though it were made of stone: pray, have good comfort.

       THESEUS.

       Forward to’th Temple, leave not out a Iot

       O’th sacred Ceremony.

       1. QUEEN.

       O, This Celebration

       Will long last, and be more costly then

       Your Suppliants war: Remember that your Fame

       Knowles in the eare o’th world: what you doe quickly

       Is not done rashly; your first thought is more

       Then others laboured meditance: your premeditating

       More then their actions: But, oh Iove! your actions,

       Soone as they mooves, as Asprayes doe the fish,

       Subdue before they touch: thinke, deere Duke, thinke

       What beds our slaine Kings have.

       2. QUEEN.

       What greifes our beds,

       That our deere Lords have none.

       3. QUEEN.

       None fit for ‘th dead:

       Those that with Cordes, Knives, drams precipitance,

       Weary of this worlds light, have to themselves

       Beene deathes most horrid Agents, humaine grace

       Affords them dust and shaddow.

       1. QUEEN.

       But our Lords

       Ly blistring fore the visitating Sunne,

       And were good Kings, when living.

       THESEUS.

       It is true, and I will give you comfort,

       To give your dead Lords graves: the which to doe,

       Must make some worke with Creon.

       1. QUEEN.

       And that worke presents it selfe to’th doing:

       Now twill take forme, the heates are gone to morrow.

       Then, booteles toyle must recompence it selfe

       With it’s owne sweat; Now he’s secure,

       Not dreames we stand before your puissance

       Wrinching our holy begging in our eyes

       To make petition cleere.

       2. QUEEN.

       Now you may take him, drunke with his victory.

       3. QUEEN.

       And his Army full of Bread, and sloth.

       THESEUS.

       Artesius, that best knowest

       How to draw out fit to this enterprise

       The prim’st for this proceeding, and the number

       To carry such a businesse, forth and levy

       Our worthiest Instruments, whilst we despatch

       This grand act of our life, this daring deede

       Of Fate in wedlocke.

       1. QUEEN.

       Dowagers, take hands;

       Let us be Widdowes to our woes: delay

       Commends us to a famishing hope.

       ALL.

       Farewell.

       2. QUEEN.

       We come unseasonably: But when could greefe

       Cull forth, as unpanged judgement can, fit’st time

      

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