The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  Part of your blood, part of your soul? You have

  told me

  That I was Palamon and you were Arcite.

  PALAMON Yes.

  ARCITE

  Am not I liable to those affections,

  Those joys, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall

  suffer?

  PALAMON

  Ye may be.

  ARCITE

  Why then would you deal so cunningly, So strangely, so unlike a noble kinsman,

  To love alone? Speak truly. Do you think me

  Unworthy of her sight?

  PALAMON

  No, but unjust If thou pursue that sight.

  ARCITE

  Because another First sees the enemy, shall I stand still,

  And let mine honour down, and never charge?

  PALAMON

  Yes, if he be but one.

  ARCITE

  But say that one

  Had rather combat me?

  PALAMON

  Let that one say so, And use thy freedom; else, if thou pursuest her,

  Be as that cursed man that hates his country,

  A branded villain.

  ARCITE

  You are mad.

  PALAMON

  I must be. Till thou art worthy, Arcite, it concerns me;

  And in this madness if I hazard thee

  And take thy life, I deal but truly.

  ARCITE

  Fie, sir. You play the child extremely. I will love her,

  I must, I ought to do so, and I dare—

  And all this justly.

  PALAMON

  O, that now, that now Thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune—

  To be one hour at liberty and grasp

  Our good swords in our hands! I would quickly teach

  thee

  What ’twere to filch affection from another.

  Thou art baser in it than a cutpurse.

  Put but thy head out of this window more

  And, as I have a soul, I’ll nail thy life to’t.

  ARCITE

  Thou dar’st not, fool; thou canst not; thou art feeble.

  Put my head out? I’ll throw my body out

  And leap the garden when I see her next,Enter the Jailer ⌈above⌉

  And pitch between her arms to anger thee.

  PALAMON

  No more—the keeper’s coming. I shall live

  To knock thy brains out with my shackles.

  ARCITE Do.

  JAILER

  By your leave, gentlemen.

  PALAMON Now, honest keeper?

  JAILER

  Lord Arcite, you must presently to th’ Duke.

  The cause I know not yet.

  ARCITE I am ready, keeper.

  JAILER

  Prince Palamon, I must a while bereave you

  Of your fair cousin’s company.

  Exeunt Arcite and the Jailer

  PALAMON

  And me, too, Even when you please, of life. Why is he sent for?

  It may be he shall marry her—he’s goodly,

  And like enough the Duke hath taken notice

  Both of his blood and body. But his falsehood!

  Why should a friend be treacherous? If that

  Get him a wife so noble and so fair,

  Let honest men ne’er love again. Once more

  I would but see this fair one. Blessèd garden,

  And fruit and flowers more blessed, that still blossom

  As her bright eyes shine on ye! Would I were,

  For all the fortune of my life hereafter,

  Yon little tree, yon blooming apricot—

  How I would spread and fling my wanton arms

  In at her window! I would bring her fruit

  Fit for the gods to feed on; youth and pleasure

  Still as she tasted should be doubled on her;

  And if she be not heavenly, I would make her

  So near the gods in nature they should fear her—

  Enter the Jailer ⌈bove⌉

  And then I am sure she would love me. How now,

  keeper,

  Where’s Arcite?

  JAILER

  Banished—Prince Pirithous Obtained his liberty; but never more,

  Upon his oath and life, must he set foot

  Upon this kingdom.

  PALAMON ⌈aside⌉

  He’s a blessed man. He shall see Thebes again, and call to arms

  The bold young men that, when he bids ’em charge,

  Fall on like fire. Arcite shall have a fortune,

  If he dare make himself a worthy lover,

  Yet in the field to strike a battle for her;

  And if he lose her then, he’s a cold coward.

  How bravely may he bear himself to win her

  If he be noble Arcite; thousand ways!

  Were I at liberty I would do things

  Of such a virtuous greatness that this lady,

  This blushing virgin, should take manhood to her

  And seek to ravish me.

  JAILER My lord, for you

  I have this charge to—

  PALAMON To discharge my life.

  JAILER

  No, but from this place to remove your lordship—

  The windows are too open.

  PALAMON

  Devils take ’em That are so envious to me—prithee kill me.

  JAILER

  And hang for’t afterward?

  PALAMON

  By this good light, Had I as word I would kill thee.

  JAILER Why, my lord?

  PALAMON

  Thou bring’st such pelting scurvy news continually,

  Thou art not worthy life. I will not go.

  JAILER

  Indeed you must, my lord.

  PALAMON May I see the garden?

  JAILER

  No.

  PALAMON Then I am resolved—I will not go.

  JAILER

  I must constrain you, then; and for you are dangerous,

  I’ll clap more irons on you.

  PALAMON

  Do, good keeper. I’ll shake ’em so ye shall not sleep:

  I’ll make ye a new morris. Must I go?

  JAILER

  There is no remedy.

  PALAMON

  Farewell, kind window. May rude wind never hurt thee. O, my lady,

  If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was,

  Dream how I suffer. Come, now bury me.

  Exeunt Palamon and the Jailer

  2.3 Enter Arcite

  ARCITE

  Banished the kingdom? ’Tis a benefit,

  A mercy I must thank ’em for; but banished

  The free enjoying of that face I die for—

  O, ‘twas a studied punishment, a death

  Beyond imagination; such a vengeance

  That, were I old and wicked, all my sins

  Could never pluck upon me. Palamon,

  Thou hast the start now—thou shalt stay and see

  Her bright eyes break each morning ’gainst thy

  window,

  And let in life into thee. Thou shalt feed

  Upon the sweetness of a noble beauty

  That nature ne’er exceeded, nor ne’er shall.

  Good gods! What happiness has Palamon!

  Twenty to one he’ll come to speak to her,

  And if she be as gentle as she’s fair,

  I know she’s his—he has a tongue will tame

  Tempests and make the wild rocks wanton.

  Come what can come,

  The worst is death. I will not leave the kingdom.

  I know mine own is but a heap of ruins,

  And no redress there. If I go he has her.

  I am resolved another shape shall make me,

  Or end my fortunes. Either way I am happy—

  I’ll see her and be near her, or no more.

  Enter four Country People, one of whom carries a garland before them. Arcite stands apart

  FI
RST COUNTRYMAN

  My masters, I’ll be there—that’s certain.

  SECOND COUNTRYMAN And I’ll be there.

  THIRD COUNTRYMAN And I.

  FOURTH COUNTRYMAN

  Why then, have with ye, boys! ’Tis but a chiding—

  Let the plough play today, I’ll tickle’t out

  Of the jades’ tails tomorrow.

  FIRST COUNTRYMAN I am sure

  To have my wife as jealous as a turkey—

  But that’s all one. I’ll go through, let her mumble.

  SECOND COUNTRYMAN

  Clap her aboard tomorrow night and stow her,

  And all’s made up again.

  THIRD COUNTRYMAN

  Ay, do but put A fescue in her fist and you shall see her

  Take a new lesson out and be a good wench.

  Do we all hold against the maying?

  FOURTH COUNTRYMAN

  Hold? What should ail us?

  THIRD COUNTRYMAN Areas will be there.

  SECOND COUNTRYMAN And Sennois, and Rycas, and three better lads ne’er danced under green tree; and ye know what wenches, ha? But will the dainty dominie, the schoolmaster, keep touch, do you think? For he does all, ye know.

  THIRD COUNTRYMAN He’ll eat a hornbook ere he fail. Go to, the matter’s too far driven between him and the tanner’s daughter to let slip now, and she must see the Duke, and she must dance too.

  FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Shall we be lusty?

  SECOND COUNTRYMAN All the boys in Athens blow wind i’th’ breech on’s! And here I’ll be and there I’ll be, for our town, and here again and there again—ha, boys, hey for the weavers!

  FIRST COUNTRYMAN This must be done i’th’ woods.

  FOURTH COUNTRYMAN O, pardon me.

  SECOND COUNTRYMAN By any means, our thing of learning said so; where he himself will edify the Duke most parlously in our behalfs—he’s excellent i’th’ woods, bring him to th’ plains, his learning makes no cry.

  THIRD COUNTRYMAN We’ll see the sports, then every man to’s tackle—and, sweet companions, let’s rehearse, by any means, before the ladies see us, and do sweetly, and God knows what may come on’t.

  FOURTH COUNTRYMAN Content—the sports once ended, we’ll perform. Away boys, and hold.

  ARCITE (coming forward) By your leaves, honest friends, pray you whither go you? 6

  FOURTH COUNTRYMAN

  Whither? Why, what a question’s that?

  ARCITE Yet ’tis a question

  To me that know not.

  THIRD COUNTRYMAN To the games, my friend.

  SECOND COUNTRYMAN

  Where were you bred, you know it not?

  ARCITE Not far, sir

  Are there such games today?

  FIRST COUNTRYMAN

  Yes, marry, are there, And such as you never saw. The Duke himself

  Will be in person there.

  ARCITE What pastimes are they?

  SECOND COUNTRYMAN

  Wrestling and running. (To the others) ’Tis a pretty fellow.

  THIRD COUNTRYMAN (to Arcite)

  Thou wilt not go along?

  ARCITE Not yet, sir.

  FOURTH COUNTRYMAN

  Well, sir, Take your own time. (To the others) Come, boys.

  FIRST COUNTRYMAN

  My mind misgives me—This fellow has a vengeance trick o’th’ hip:

  Mark how his body’s made for’t.

  SECOND COUNTRYMAN

  I’ll be hanged though If he dare venture; hang him, plum porridge!

  He wrestle? He roast eggs! Come, let’s be gone, lads.

  Exeunt the four Countrymen

  ARCITE

  This is an offered opportunity

  I durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled—

  The best men called it excellent—and run

  Swifter than wind upon a field of corn,

  Curling the wealthy ears, never flew. I’ll venture,

  And in some poor disguise be there. Who knows

  Whether my brows may not be girt with garlands,

  And happiness prefer me to a place

  Where I may ever dwell in sight of her? Exit

  2.4 Enter the Jailer’s Daughter

  JAILER’S DAUGHTER

  Why should I love this gentleman? ’Tis odds

  He never will affect me. I am base,

  My father the mean keeper of his prison,

  And he a prince. To marry him is hopeless,

  To be his whore is witless. Out upon’t,

  What pushes are we wenches driven to

  When fifteen 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 looked on. Next, I pitied him,

  And so would any young wench, o‘my conscience,

  That ever dreamed or vowed her maidenhead

  To a young handsome man. Then, I loved him,

  Extremely loved him, infinitely loved him—

  And yet he had a cousin fair as he, too.

  But in my heart was Palamon, and there,

  Lord, what a coil he keeps! To hear him

  Sing in an evening, what a heaven it is!

  And yet his songs are sad ones. Fairer spoken

  Was never gentleman. When I come in

  To bring him water in a morning, first

  He bows his noble body, then salutes me, thus:

  ‘Fair, gentle maid, good morrow. May thy goodness

  Get thee a happy husband.’ Once he kissed me—

  I loved my lips the better ten days after.

  Would he would do so every day! He grieves much,

  And me as much to see his misery.

  What should I do to make him know I love him?

  For I would fain enjoy him. Say I ventured

  To set him free? What says the law then? Thus much

  For law or kindred! I will do it,

  And this night; ere tomorrow he shall love me. Exit

  2.5 Short flourish of cornetts and shouts within. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Emilia, Arcite disguised, with a garland, and attendants

  THESEUS

  You have done worthily. I have not seen

  Since Hercules a man of tougher sinews.

  Whate’er you are, you run the best and wrestle

  That these times can allow.

  ARCITE I am proud to please you.

  THESEUS

  What country bred you?

  ARCITE

  This—but far off, prince.

  THESEUS

  Are you a gentleman?

  ARCITE

  My father said so, And to those gentle uses gave me life.

  THESEUS

  Are you his heir?

  ARCITE

  His youngest, sir.

  THESEUS

  Your father Sure is a happy sire, then. What proves you?

  ARCITE

  A little of all noble qualities.

  I could have kept a hawk and well have hollered

  To a deep cry of dogs; I dare not praise

  My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me

  Would say it was my best piece; last and greatest,

  I would be thought a soldier.

  THESEUS You are perfect.

  PIRITHOIIS

  Upon my soul, a proper man.

  EMILIA

  He is so.

  PIRITHOUS (to Hippolyta)

  How do you like him, lady?

  HIPPOLYTA

  I admire him. I have not seen so young a man so noble—

  If he say true—of his sort.

  EMILIA

  Believe His mother was a wondrous handsome woman—

  His face methinks goes that way.

  HIPPOLYTA

  But his body And fiery mind illustrate a brave father.

  PIRITHOUS

  Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun,

  Breaks
through his baser garments.

  HIPPOLYTA

  He’s well got, sure.

  THESEUS (to Arcite)

  What made you seek this place, sir?

  ARCITE

  Noble Theseus, To purchase name and do my ablest service

  To such a well-found wonder as thy worth,

  For only in thy court of all the world

  Dwells fair-eyed honour.

  PIRITHOUS

  All his words are worthy.

  THESEUS (to Arcite)

  Sir, we are much indebted to your travel,

  Nor shall you lose your wish.—Pirithous,

  Dispose of this fair gentleman.

  PIRITHOUS

  Thanks, Theseus. (To Arcite) Whate’er you are, you’re mine, and I shall

  give you

  To a most noble service, to this lady,

  This bright young virgin; pray observe her goodness.

  You have honoured her fair birthday with your

  virtues,

  And as your due you’re hers. Kiss her fair hand, sir.

  ARCITE

  Sir, you’re a noble giver. (To Emilia) Dearest beauty,

  Thus let me seal my vowed faith.

  He kisses her hand

  When your servant,

  Your most unworthy creature, but offends you,

  Command him die, he shall.

  EMILIA

  That were too cruel. If you deserve well, sir, I shall soon see’t.

  You’re mine, and somewhat better than your rank I’ll

  use you.

  PIRITHOUS (to Arcite)

  I’ll see you furnished, and, because you say

  You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you

  This afternoon to ride—but ’tis a rough one.

  ARCITE

  I like him better, prince—I shall not then

  Freeze in my saddle.

  THESEUS (to Hippolyta)

  Sweet, you must be ready—And you, Emilia, ⌈to Pirithous] and you, friend—and

  all,

  Tomorrow by the sun, to do observance

  To flow’ry May in Dian’s wood. (To Arcite) Wait well,

  sir,

  Upon your mistress.—Emity, I hope

  He shall not go afoot.

  EMILIA

  That were a shame, sir, While I have horses. (To Arcite) Take your choice, and

  what

  You want, at any time, let me but know it.

  If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you,

  You’ll find a loving mistress.

  ARCITE

  If I do not, Let me find that my father ever hated—

  Disgrace and blows.

  THESEUS

  Go, lead the way—you have won it. It shall be so: you shall receive all dues

  Fit for the honour you have won. ’Twere wrong else.