Shakespeare (spurious and doubtful works), 1564-1616 / 2008-07-03 00:00:00


A little of all noble Quallities:
I could have kept a Hawke, and well have holloa'd
To a deepe crie of Dogges; I dare not praise
My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me
Would say it was my best peece: last, and greatest,
I would be thought a Souldier.
THESEUS.
You are perfect.
PERITHOUS.
Vpon my soule, a proper man.
EMILIA.
He is so.
PERITHOUS.
How doe you like him, Ladie?
HIPPOLITA.
I admire him;
I have not seene so yong a man so noble
(If he say true,) of his sort.
EMILIA.
Beleeve,
His mother was a wondrous handsome woman;
His face, me thinkes, goes that way.
HIPPOLITA.
But his Body
And firie minde illustrate a brave Father.
PERITHOUS.
Marke how his vertue, like a hidden Sun,
Breakes through his baser garments.
HIPPOLITA.
Hee's well got, sure.
THESEUS.
What made you seeke this place, Sir?
ARCITE.
Noble Theseus,
To purchase name, and doe my ablest service
To such a well-found wonder as thy worth,
For onely in thy Court, of all the world,
Dwells faire-eyd honor.
PERITHOUS.
All his words are worthy.
THESEUS.
Sir, we are much endebted to your travell,
Nor shall you loose your wish: Perithous,
Dispose of this faire Gentleman.
PERITHOUS.
Thankes, Theseus.
What ere you are y'ar mine, and I shall give you
To a most noble service, to this Lady,
This bright yong Virgin; pray, observe her goodnesse;
You have honourd hir faire birth-day with your vertues,
And as your due y'ar hirs: kisse her faire hand, Sir.
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