Not yet, Sir.
4. COUNTREYMAN
Well, Sir,
Take your owne time: come, Boyes.
1. COUNTREYMAN
My minde misgives me;
This fellow has a veng'ance tricke o'th hip:
Marke how his Bodi's made for't
2. COUNTREYMAN
Ile be hangd, though,
If he dare venture; hang him, plumb porredge,
He wrastle? he rost eggs! Come, lets be gon, Lads. [Exeunt.]
ARCITE.
This is an offerd oportunity
I durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled,
The best men calld it excellent, and run--
Swifter the winde upon a feild of Corne
(Curling the wealthy eares) never flew: Ile venture,
And in some poore disguize be there; who knowes
Whether my browes may not be girt with garlands?
And happines preferre me to a place,
Where I may ever dwell in sight of her. [Exit Arcite.]
Scaena 4. (Athens. A room in the prison.)
[Enter Iailors Daughter alone.]
DAUGHTER.
Why should I love this Gentleman? Tis odds
He never will affect me; I am base,
My Father the meane Keeper of his Prison,
And he a prince: To marry him is hopelesse;
To be his whore is witles. Out upon't,
What pushes are we wenches driven to,
When fifteene once has found us! First, I saw him;
I (seeing) thought he was a goodly man;
He has as much to please a woman in him,
(If he please to bestow it so) as ever
These eyes yet lookt on. Next, I pittied him,
And so would any young wench, o' my Conscience,
That ever dream'd, or vow'd her Maydenhead
To a yong hansom Man; Then I lov'd him,
Extreamely lov'd him, infinitely lov'd him;
And yet he had a Cosen, faire as he too.
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