The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 549
DAUGHTER It seems to me they have no more sense of
their captivity than I of ruling Athens. They eat well,
look merrily, discourse of many things, but nothing of
their own restraint and disasters. Yet sometime a
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divided sigh, martyred, as ’twere, i’th’ deliverance,
will break from one of them – when the other
presently gives it so sweet a rebuke that I could wish
myself a sigh to be so chid, or at least a sigher to be
comforted.
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WOOER I never saw ’em.
JAILER The Duke himself came privately in the night
and so did they.
Enter PALAMON and ARCITE, above.
What the reason of it is, I know not. Look, yonder they
are; that’s Arcite looks out.
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DAUGHTER No, sir, no, that’s Palamon. Arcite is the
lower of the twain; you may perceive a part of him.
JAILER Go to, leave your pointing; they would not make
us their object. Out of their sight.
DAUGHTER It is a holiday to look on them. Lord, the
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difference of men! Exeunt.
2.2 Enter PALAMON and ARCITE in prison.
PALAMON How do you, noble cousin?
ARCITE How do you, sir?
PALAMON Why, strong enough to laugh at misery
And bear the chance of war; yet we are prisoners,
I fear, forever, cousin.
ARCITE I believe it
And to that destiny have patiently
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Laid up my hour to come.
PALAMON O, cousin Arcite,
Where is Thebes now? Where is our noble country?
Where are our friends and kindreds? Never more
Must we behold those comforts, never see
The hardy youths strive for the games of honour,
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Hung with the painted favours of their ladies,
Like tall ships under sail – then start amongst ’em,
And as an east wind leave ’em all behind us,
Like lazy clouds, whilst Palamon and Arcite,
Even in the wagging of a wanton leg,
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Outstripped the people’s praises, won the garlands,
Ere they have time to wish ’em ours. O, never
Shall we two exercise, like twins of honour,
Our arms again and feel our fiery horses
Like proud seas under us; our good swords now
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(Better the red-eyed god of war ne’er wore),
Ravished our sides, like age must run to rust
And deck the temples of those gods that hate us.
These hands shall never draw ’em out like lightning
To blast whole armies more.
ARCITE No, Palamon,
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Those hopes are prisoners with us. Here we are,
And here the graces of our youths must wither
Like a too-timely spring; here age must find us
And, which is heaviest, Palamon, unmarried.
The sweet embraces of a loving wife,
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Loaden with kisses, armed with thousand Cupids,
Shall never clasp our necks; no issue know us;
No figures of ourselves shall we e’er see,
To glad our age, and like young eagles teach ’em
Boldly to gaze against bright arms and say,
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‘Remember what your fathers were, and conquer!’
The fair-eyed maids shall weep our banishments
And in their songs curse ever-blinded Fortune
Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done
To youth and nature. This is all our world.
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We shall know nothing here but one another,
Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes.
The vine shall grow but we shall never see it;
Summer shall come and with her all delights,
But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still.
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PALAMON ’Tis too true, Arcite. To our Theban hounds
That shook the aged forest with their echoes
No more now must we hallow, no more shake
Our pointed javelins whilst the angry swine
Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages,
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Struck with our well-steeled darts. All valiant uses,
The food and nourishment of noble minds,
In us two here shall perish; we shall die,
Which is the curse of honour, lastly,
Children of grief and ignorance.
ARCITE Yet, cousin,
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Even from the bottom of these miseries,
From all that Fortune can inflict upon us,
I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings,
If the gods please: to hold here a brave patience
And the enjoying of our griefs together.
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While Palamon is with me, let me perish
If I think this our prison!
PALAMON Certainly,
’Tis a main goodness, cousin, that our fortunes
Were twined together; ’tis most true, two souls
Put in two noble bodies, let ’em suffer
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The gall of hazard, so they grow together,
Will never sink; they must not, say they could.
A willing man dies sleeping and all’s done.
ARCITE Shall we make worthy uses of this place
That all men hate so much?
PALAMON How, gentle cousin?
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ARCITE Let’s think this prison holy sanctuary,
To keep us from corruption of worse men.
We are young and yet desire the ways of honour,
That liberty and common conversation,
The poison of pure spirits, might, like women,
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Woo us to wander from. What worthy blessing
Can be but our imaginations
May make it ours? And here being thus together,
We are an endless mine to one another;
We are one another’s wife, ever begetting
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New births of love; we are father, friends, acquaintance,
We are, in one another, families;
I am your heir and you are mine. This place
Is our inheritance; no hard oppressor
Dare take this from us; here, with a little patience,
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We shall live long and loving. No surfeits seek us;
The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seas
Swallow their youth. Were we at liberty,
A wife might part us lawfully, or business;
Quarrels consume us; envy of ill men
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Crave our acquaintance. I might sicken, cousin,
Where you should never know it, and so perish
Without your noble hand to close mine eyes,
Or prayers to the gods. A thousand chances,
Were we from hence, would sever us.
PALAMON You have made me –
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I thank you, cousin Arcite – almost wanton
With my captivity: what a misery
It is to live abroad and everywhere!
’Tis like a beast, methinks. I find the court here –
I am sure, a more content; and all those pleasures
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That woo the wills of men to vanity,
I see through now and am sufficient
To tell the world ’tis but a gaudy shadow
That old Time as he passes by takes with him.
What had we been, old in the court of Creon,
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Where sin is justice, lust and ignorance
The virtues of the great ones? Cousin Arcit
e,
Had not the loving gods found this place for us,
We had died as they do, ill old men, unwept,
And had their epitaphs, the people’s curses.
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Shall I say more?
ARCITE I would hear you still.
PALAMON You shall.
Is there record of any two that loved
Better than we do, Arcite?
ARCITE Sure there cannot.
PALAMON I do not think it possible our friendship
Should ever leave us.
ARCITE Till our deaths it cannot.
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Enter EMILIA and her Woman.
And after death our spirits shall be led
To those that love eternally. [Palamon sees Emilia.]
Speak on, sir.
EMILIA This garden has a world of pleasures in’t.
What flower is this?
WOMAN ’Tis called narcissus, madam.
EMILIA That was a fair boy, certain, but a fool
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To love himself. Were there not maids enough?
ARCITE [to Palamon] Pray, forward.
PALAMON Yes –
EMILIA Or were they all hard-hearted?
WOMAN They could not be to one so fair.
EMILIA Thou wouldst not.
WOMAN I think I should not, madam.
EMILIA That’s a good wench.
But take heed to your kindness, though.
WOMAN Why, madam?
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EMILIA Men are mad things.
ARCITE Will ye go forward, cousin?
EMILIA
Canst not thou work such flowers in silk, wench?
WOMAN Yes.
EMILIA I’ll have a gown full o’ ’em, and of these.
This is a pretty colour; will’t not do
Rarely upon a skirt, wench?
WOMAN Dainty, madam.
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ARCITE
Cousin, cousin! how do you, sir? Why, Palamon!
PALAMON Never till now was I in prison, Arcite.
ARCITE Why, what’s the matter, man?
PALAMON [Indicates Emilia.] Behold, and wonder!
By heaven, she is a goddess.
ARCITE [Sees Emilia.] Ha!
PALAMON Do reverence.
She is a goddess, Arcite.
EMILIA Of all flowers
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Methinks a rose is best.
WOMAN Why, gentle madam?
EMILIA It is the very emblem of a maid.
For, when the west wind courts her gently,
How modestly she blows and paints the sun
With her chaste blushes! When the north comes near her,
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Rude and impatient, then, like chastity,
She locks her beauties in her bud again
And leaves him to base briars.
WOMAN Yet, good madam,
Sometimes her modesty will blow so far
She falls for’t. A maid,
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If she have any honour, would be loath
To take example by her.
EMILIA Thou art wanton.
ARCITE She is wondrous fair.
PALAMON She is all the beauty extant.
EMILIA
The sun grows high; let’s walk in. Keep these flowers.
We’ll see how near art can come near their colours.
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I am wondrous merry-hearted; I could laugh now.
WOMAN I could lie down, I am sure.
EMILIA And take one with you?
WOMAN That’s as we bargain, madam.
EMILIA Well, agree then.
Exeunt Emilia and Woman.
PALAMON What think you of this beauty?
ARCITE ’Tis a rare one.
PALAMON Is’t but a rare one?
ARCITE Yes, a matchless beauty.
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PALAMON
Might not a man well lose himself and love her?
ARCITE I cannot tell what you have done; I have,
Beshrew mine eyes for’t; now I feel my shackles.
PALAMON You love her then?
ARCITE Who would not?
PALAMON And desire her?
ARCITE Before my liberty.
PALAMON I saw her first.
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ARCITE That’s nothing.
PALAMON But it shall be.
ARCITE I saw her too.
PALAMON Yes, but you must not love her.
ARCITE I will not as you do, to worship her
As she is heavenly and a blessed goddess.
I love her as a woman, to enjoy her:
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So both may love.