English

OR, THE KNIGHT'S TALE

BOOK II

While Arcite lives in bliss, the story turns
Where hopeless Palamon in prison mourns.
For six long years immur'd, the captive knight
Had dragg'd his chains and scarcely seen the light:
Lost liberty and love at once he bore;
His prison pain'd him much, his passion more;
Nor dares he hope his fetters to remove,
Nor ever wishes to be free from love.
But when the sixth revolving year was run,

OR, THE KNIGHT'S TALE

IN THREE BOOKS

BOOK I

I N days of old, there liv'd, of mighty fame,
A valiant prince, and Theseus was his name:
A chief, who more in feats of arms excell'd,
The rising nor the setting sun beheld.
Of Athens he was lord; much land he won,
And added foreign countries to his crown.
In Scythia with the warrior queen he strove,
Whom first by force he conquer'd, then by love;

SONGS

I

SONG OF JEALOUSY

I

What state of life can be so blest
As love, that warms a lover's breast?
Two souls in one, the same desire
To grant the bliss, and to require!
But if in heav'n a hell we find,
'T is all from thee,
O Jealousy!
'T is all from thee,
O Jealousy!

EPILOGUE

Now , in good manners, nothing should be said
Against this play, because the poet's dead.
The prologue told us of a moral here:
Would I could find it! but the Devil knows where.
If in my part it lies, I fear he means
To warn us of the sparks behind our scenes.
For, if you 'll take it on Dalinda's word,
'T is a hard chapter to refuse a lord.
The poet might pretend this moral too,
That, when a wit and fool together woo,
The damsel (not to break an ancient rule)

PROLOGUE

SPOKEN BY MR. BETTERTON

A S when some treasurer lays down the stick,
Warrants are sign'd for ready money thick,
And many desperate debentures paid,
Which never had been, had his lordship stay'd;
So now, this poet, who forsakes the stage,
Intends to gratify the present age.
One warrant shall be sign'd for every man;
All shall be wits that will, and beaux that can:
Provided still, this warrant be not shown,
And you be wits but to yourselves alone;

OR, THE BRITISH WORTHY

PROLOGUE

SPOKEN BY MR. BETTERTON

Sure there 's a dearth of wit in this dull town,
When silly plays so savorly go down;
As, when clipp'd money passes, 't is a sign
A nation is not over-stock'd with coin.
Happy is he who, in his own defense,
Can write just level to your humble sense:
Who higher than your pitch can never go;
And, doubtless, he must creep, who writes below.

PROLOGUE, EPILOGUE, AND SONG FROM THE INDIAN QUEEN

PROLOGUE

B OY . Wake, wake, Quevira! our soft rest must cease,
And fly together with our country's peace;
No more must we sleep under plantain shade,
Which neither heat could pierce, nor cold invade;
Where bounteous nature never feels decay,
And op'ning buds drive falling fruits away.
Q UEVIRA . Why should men quarrel here, where all possess
As much as they can hope for by success?

THE LAST PARTING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE

FROM THE SIXTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIADS

Thus having said, brave Hector went to see
His virtuous wife, the fair Andromache.
He found her not at home; for she was gone,
Attended by her maid and infant son,
To climb the steepy tow'r of Ilion:
From whence, with heavy heart, she might survey
The bloody business of the dreadful day.
Her mournful eyes she cast around the plain,
And sought the lord of her desires in vain.

Breathless she flew, with Joy and Passion wild,
The Nurse came lagging after with her Child.

The Royal Babe upon her Breast was laid;
Who, like the Morning Star, his beams display'd.
Scamandrius was his Name which Hector gave,
From that fair Flood which Ilion 's Wall did lave:
But him Astyanax the Trojans call,
From his great Father who defends the Wall.

Hector beheld him with a silent Smile,
His tender Wife stood weeping by, the while:

The Wrath of Peleus Son, O Muse, resound;
Whose dire Effects the Grecian Army found:
And many a Heroe, King, and hardy Knight,
Were sent, in early Youth, to Shades of Night:
Their Limbs a Prey to Dogs and Vulturs made;
So was the Sov'reign Will of Jove obey'd:
From that ill-omen'd Hour when Strife begun,
Betwixt Atrides Great, and Thetis God-like Son.