|
||||||
|
|
||||||
|
Book, page 152 / 155 To put pride in him: as he thus went counting The flinty pavement, dancing, as t'wer, to'th Musicke His owne hoofes made; (for as they say from iron Came Musickes origen) what envious Flint, Cold as old Saturne, and like him possest With fire malevolent, darted a Sparke, Or what feirce sulphur else, to this end made, I comment not;--the hot horse, hot as fire, Tooke Toy at this, and fell to what disorder His power could give his will; bounds, comes on end, Forgets schoole dooing, being therein traind, And of kind mannadge; pig-like he whines At the sharpe Rowell, which he freats at rather Then any jot obaies; seekes all foule meanes Of boystrous and rough Iadrie, to dis-seate His Lord, that kept it bravely: when nought serv'd, When neither Curb would cracke, girth breake nor diffring plunges Dis-roote his Rider whence he grew, but that He kept him tweene his legges, on his hind hoofes on end he stands, That Arcites leggs, being higher then his head, Seem'd with strange art to hand: His victors wreath Even then fell off his head: and presently Backeward the Iade comes ore, and his full poyze Becomes the Riders loade: yet is he living, But such a vessell tis, that floates but for The surge that next approaches: he much desires To have some speech with you: Loe he appeares. [Enter Theseus, Hipolita, Emilia, Arcite in a chaire.] PALAMON. O miserable end of our alliance! The gods are mightie, Arcite: if thy heart, Thy worthie, manly heart, be yet unbroken, Give me thy last words; I am Palamon, One that yet loves thee dying. ARCITE.
|
Knowledgerush Search
|
|
Contact Us
| Privacy Statement & Terms of Use
|