The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  Methought I heard a dreadful clap of thunder

  Break from the troop.

  PALAMON

  But still before that flew

  The lightning of your valour. Stay a little,

  Is not this piece too strait?

  ARCITE

  No, no, ’tis well.

  PALAMON

  I would have nothing hurt thee but my sword—

  A bruise would be dishonour.

  ARCITE

  Now I am perfect.

  PALAMON

  Stand off, then.

  ARCITE

  Take my sword; I hold it better.

  PALAMON

  I thank ye. No, keep it—your life lies on it.

  Here’s one—if it but hold, I ask no more

  For all my hopes. My cause and honour guard me.

  ARCITE

  And me, my love.

  They bow several ways, then advance and stand

  Is there aught else to say?

  PALAMON

  This only, and no more. Thou art mine aunt’s son,

  And that blood we desire to shed is mutual:

  In me, thine, and in thee, mine. My sword

  Is in my hand, and if thou kill’st me,

  The gods and I forgive thee. If there be

  A place prepared for those that sleep in honour,

  I wish his weary soul that falls may win it.

  Fight bravely, cousin. Give me thy noble hand.

  ARCITE

  Here, Palamon. This hand shall never more

  Come near thee with such friendship.

  PALAMON

  I commend thee.

  ARCITE

  If I fall, curse me, and say I was a coward—

  For none but such dare die in these just trials.

  Once more farewell, my cousin.

  PALAMON

  Farewell, Arcite.

  Fight. Horns within; they stand

  ARCITE

  Lo, cousin, lo, our folly has undone us.

  PALAMON

  Why?

  ARCITE

  This is the Duke a-hunting, as I told you.

  If we be found, we are wretched. O, retire,

  For honour’s sake, and safely, presently,

  Into your bush again. Sir, we shall find

  Too many hours to die. In, gentle cousin—

  If you be seen, you perish instantly

  For breaking prison, and I, if you reveal me,

  For my contempt. Then all the world will scorn us,

  And say we had a noble difference,

  But base disposers of it.

  PALAMON

  No, no, cousin,

  I will no more be hidden, nor put off

  This great adventure to a second trial.

  I know your cunning and I know your cause—

  He that faints now, shame take him! Put thyself

  Upon thy present guard—

  ARCITE

  You are not mad?

  PALAMON

  Or I will make th’advantage of this hour

  Mine own, and what to come shall threaten me

  I fear less than my fortune. Know, weak cousin,

  I love Emilia, and in that I’ll bury

  Thee and all crosses else.

  ARCITE

  Then come what can come,

  Thou shalt know, Palamon, I dare as well

  Die as discourse or sleep. Only this fears me,

  The law will have the honour of our ends.

  Have at thy life!

  PALAMON

  Look to thine own well, Arcite!

  They fight again.

  Horns. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous, and train. ⌈Theseus⌉ separates Palamon and Arcite

  THESEUS

  What ignorant and mad malicious traitors

  Are you, that ’gainst the tenor of my laws

  Are making battle, thus like knights appointed,

  Without my leave and officers of arms?

  By Castor, both shall die.

  PALAMON

  Hold thy word, Theseus.

  We are certainly both traitors, both despisers

  Of thee and of thy goodness. I am Palamon,

  That cannot love thee, he that broke thy prison—

  Think well what that deserves. And this is Arcite;

  A bolder traitor never trod thy ground,

  A falser ne’er seemed friend. This is the man

  Was begged and banished; this is he contemns thee,

  And what thou dar’st do; and in this disguise,

  Against thine own edict, follows thy sister,

  That fortunate bright star, the fair Emilia,

  Whose servant—if there be a right in seeing

  And first bequeathing of the soul to—justly

  I am; and, which is more, dares think her his.

  This treachery, like a most trusty lover,

  I called him now to answer. If thou be’st

  As thou art spoken, great and virtuous,

  The true decider of all injuries,

  Say, ’Fight again’, and thou shalt see me, Theseus,

  Do such a justice thou thyself wilt envy.

  Then take my life—I’ll woo thee to’t.

  PIRITHOUS

  O heaven,

  What more than man is this!

  THESEUS

  I have sworn.

  ARCITE

  We seek not

  Thy breath of mercy, Theseus. ‘Tis to me

  A thing as soon to die as thee to say it,

  And no more moved. Where this man calls me traitor

  Let me say thus much—if in love be treason,

  In service of so excellent a beauty,

  As I love most, and in that faith will perish,

  As I have brought my life here to confirm it,

  As I have served her truest, worthiest,

  As I dare kill this cousin that denies it,

  So let me be most traitor and ye please me.

  For scorning thy edict, Duke, ask that lady

  Why she is fair, and why her eyes command me

  Stay here to love her, and if she say, ‘Traitor’,

  I am a villain fit to lie unburied.

  PALAMON

  Thou shalt have pity of us both, O Theseus,

  If unto neither thou show mercy. Stop,

  As thou art just, thy noble ear against us;

  As thou art valiant, for thy cousin’s soul,

  Whose twelve strong labours crown his memory,

  Let’s die together, at one instant, Duke.

  Only a little let him fall before me,

  That I may tell my soul he shall not have her.

  THESEUS

  I grant your wish; for to say true, your cousin

  Has ten times more offended, for I gave him

  More mercy than you found, sir, your offences

  Being no more than his. None here speak for ’em,

  For ere the sun set both shall sleep for ever.

  HIPPOLYTA (to Emilia)

  Alas, the pity! Now or never, sister,

  Speak, not to be denied. That face of yours

  Will bear the curses else of after ages

  For these lost cousins.

  EMILIA

  In my face, dear sister,

  I find no anger to ’em, nor no ruin.

  The misadventure of their own eyes kill ’em.

  Yet that I will be woman and have pity,⌈She kneels⌉

  My knees shall grow to th’ ground, but I’ll get mercy.

  Help me, dear sister—in a deed so virtuous

  The powers of all women will be with us.

  Hippolyta kneels

  Most royal brother—

  HIPPOLYTA

  Sir, by our tie of marriage—

  EMILIA

  By your own spotless honour—

  HIPPOLYTA

  By that faith,

  That fair hand, and that honest heart you gave me—

&nb
sp; EMILIA

  By that you would have pity in another,

  By your own virtues infinite—

  HIPPOLYTA

  By valour,

  By all the chaste nights I have ever pleased you—

  THESEUS

  These are strange conjurings.

  PIRITHOUS

  Nay, then, I’ll in too.

  ⌈He kneels⌉

  By all our friendship, sir, by all our dangers,

  By all you love most: wars, and this sweet lady—

  EMILIA

  By that you would have trembled to deny

  A blushing maid—

  HIPPOLYTA

  By your own eyes, by strength—

  In which you swore I went beyond all women,

  Almost all men—and yet I yielded, Theseus—

  PIRITHOUS

  To crown all this, by your most noble soul,

  Which cannot want due mercy, I beg first—

  HIPPOLYTA

  Next hear my prayers—

  EMILIA

  Last let me entreat, sir—

  PIRITHOUS

  For mercy.

  HIPPOLYTA Mercy.

  EMILIA

  Mercy on these princes.

  THESEUS

  Ye make my faith reel. Say I felt

  Compassion to ’em both, how would you place it?

  ⌈They rise⌉

  EMILIA

  Upon their lives—but with their banishments.

  THESEUS

  You are a right woman, sister: you have pity,

  But want the understanding where to use it.

  If you desire their lives, invent a way

  Safer than banishment. Can these two live,

  And have the agony of love about ‘em,

  And not kill one another? Every day

  They’d fight about you, hourly bring your honour

  In public question with their swords. Be wise, then,

  And here forget ’em. It concerns your credit

  And my oath equally. I have said—they die.

  Better they fall by th’ law than one another.

  Bow not my honour.

  EMILIA

  O my noble brother,

  That oath was rashly made, and in your anger.

  Your reason will not hold it. If such vows

  Stand for express will, all the world must perish.

  Beside, I have another oath ’gainst yours,

  Of more authority, I am sure more love—

  Not made in passion, neither, but good heed.

  THESEUS

  What is it, sister?

  PIRITHOUS (to Emilia) Urge it home, brave lady.

  EMILIA

  That you would ne’er deny me anything

  Fit for my modest suit and your free granting.

  I tie you to your word now; if ye fail in’t,

  Think how you maim your honour—

  For now I am set a-begging, sir. I am deaf

  To all but your compassion—how their lives

  Might breed the ruin of my name, opinion.

  Shall anything that loves me perish for me?

  That were a cruel wisdom: do men prune

  The straight young boughs that blush with thousand

  blossoms

  Because they may be rotten? O, Duke Theseus,

  The goodly mothers that have groaned for these,

  And all the longing maids that ever loved,

  If your vow stand, shall curse me and my beauty,

  And in their funeral songs for these two cousins

  Despise my cruelty and cry woe worth me,

  Till I am nothing but the scorn of women.

  For heaven’s sake, save their lives and banish ’em.

  THESEUS

  On what conditions?

  EMILIA

  Swear ’em never more To make me their contention, or to know me,

  To tread upon thy dukedom; and to be,

  Wherever they shall travel, ever strangers

  To one another.

  PALAMON

  I’ll be cut a-pieces

  Before I take this oath—forget I love her?

  O all ye gods, despise me, then. Thy banishment

  I not mislike, so we may fairly carry

  Our swords and cause along—else, never trifle,

  But take our lives, Duke. I must love, and will;

  And for that love must and dare kill this cousin

  On any piece the earth has.

  THESEUS

  Will you, Arcite,

  Take these conditions?

  PALAMON

  He’s a villain then.

  PIRITHOUS

  These are men!

  ARCITE

  No, never, Duke. ’Tis worse to me than begging,

  To take my life so basely. Though I think

  I never shall enjoy her, yet I’ll preserve

  The honour of affection and die for her,

  Make death a devil.

  THESEUS

  What may be done? For now I feel compassion.

  PIRITHOUS

  Let it not fall again, sir.

  THESEUS

  Say, Emilia, If one of them were dead—as one must—are you

  Content to take the other to your husband?

  They cannot both enjoy you. They are princes

  As goodly as your own eyes, and as noble

  As ever fame yet spoke of. Look upon ’em,

  And if you can love, end this difference.

  I give consent. (To Palamon and Arcite) Are you

  content too, princes?

  PALAMON and ARCITE

  With all our souls.

  THESEUS

  He that she refuses

  Must die, then.

  PALAMON and ARCITE

  Any death thou canst invent, Duke.

  PALAMON

  If I fall from that mouth, I fall with favour,

  And lovers yet unborn shall bless my ashes.

  ARCITE

  If she refuse me, yet my grave will wed me,

  And soldiers sing my epitaph.

  THESEUS (to Emilia)

  Make choice, then.

  EMILIA

  I cannot, sir. They are both too excellent.

  For me, a hair shall never fall of these men.

  HIPPOLYTA ⌈to Theseus⌉

  What will become of ’em?

  THESEUS

  Thus I ordain it, And by mine honour once again it stands,

  Or both shall die. (To Palamon and Arcite) You shall

  both to your country,

  And each within this month, accompanied

  With three fair knights, appear again in this place,

  In which I’ll plant a pyramid; and whether,

  Before us that are here, can force his cousin,

  By fair and knightly strength, to touch the pillar,

  He shall enjoy her; the other lose his head,

  And all his friends; nor shall he grudge to fall,

  Nor think he dies with interest in this lady.

  Will this content ye?

  PALAMON

  Yes. Here, cousin Arcite,

  I am friends again till that hour.

  ARCITE

  I embrace ye.

  THESEUS (to Emilia)

  Are you content, sister?

  EMILIA

  Yes, I must, sir,

  Else both miscarry.

  THESEUS (to Palamon and Arcite)

  Come, shake hands again, then,

  And take heed, as you are gentlemen, this quarrel

  Sleep till the hour prefixed, and hold your course.

  PALAMON

  We dare not fail thee, Theseus.

  THESEUS

  Come, I’ll give ye

  Now usage like to princes and to friends.

  When ye return, who wins I’ll settle here,

  Who loses, yet I’ll weep upon his bier.

  Exeunt. ⌈ln the act-time the bush is removed⌉

  4.1 E
nter the Jailer and his Friend

  JAILER

  Hear you no more? Was nothing said of me

  Concerning the escape of Palamon?

  Good sir, remember.

  FRIEND

  Nothing that I heard,

  For I came home before the business

  Was fully ended. Yet I might perceive,

  Ere I departed, a great likelihood

  Of both their pardons: for Hippolyta

  And fair-eyed Emily upon their knees

  Begged with such handsome pity that the Duke,

  Methought, stood staggering whether he should

  follow

  His rash oath or the sweet compassion

  Of those two ladies; and to second them

  That truly noble prince, Pirithous—

  Half his own heart—set in too, that I hope

  All shall be well. Neither heard I one question

  Of your name or his scape.

  Enter the Second Friend

  JAILER Pray heaven it hold so.

  SECOND FRIEND

  Be of good comfort, man. I bring you news,

  Good news.

  JAILER

  They are welcome.

  SECOND FRIEND

  Palamon has cleared you,

  And got your pardon, and discovered how

  And by whose means he scaped—which was your

  daughter’s,

  Whose pardon is procured too; and the prisoner,

  Not to be held ungrateful to her goodness,

  Has given a sum of money to her marriage—

  A large one, I’ll assure you.

  JAILER

  Ye are a good man,

  And ever bring good news.

  FIRST FRIEND

  How was it ended?

  SECOND FRIEND

  Why, as it should be: they that ne’er begged,

  But they prevailed, had their suits fairly granted—

  The prisoners have their lives.

  FIRST FRIEND

  I knew ’twould be so.

  SECOND FRIEND

  But there be new conditions which you’ll hear of

  At better time.

  JAILER

  I hope they are good.

  SECOND FRIEND

  They are honourable—

  How good they’ll prove I know not.

  Enter the Wooer

  EIRST ERIEND

  ’Twill be known.

  WOOER

  Alas, sir, where’s your daughter?

  JAILER

  Why do you ask?

  WOOER

  O, sir, when did you see her?

  SECOND FRIEND

  How he looks!

  JAILER

  This morning.

  WOOER

  Was she well? Was she in health?

  Sir, when did she sleep?

  FIRST FRIEND

  These are strange questions.

  JAILER

  I do not think she was very well: for now