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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)

Page 431

by William Shakespeare


  I won't, sweetheart.

  JAILER’S DAUGHTER

  If you do, love, I’ll cry.

  If you do, love, I'll cry

  Exeunt.

  A place near the Lists.

  (Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous, Attendants, Servants, Arcite)

  Flourish. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous, and some Attendants.

  EMILIA

  I’ll no step further.

  I'll go no further.

  PIRITHOUS

  Will you lose this sight?

  Do you want to miss the fight?

  EMILIA

  I had rather see a wren hawk at a fly

  Than this decision. Ev’ry blow that falls

  Threats a brave life, each stroke laments

  The place whereon it falls, and sounds more like

  A bell than blade. I will stay here,

  It is enough my hearing shall be punish’d

  With what shall happen—’gainst the which there is

  No deafing—but to hear, not taint mine eye

  With dread sights it may shun.

  I'd sooner see a wren attacking a fly

  than this battle. Every blow that falls

  threatens a brave life, every stroke causes

  sorrow as it falls, and sounds more like

  a funeral bell than a blade. I will stay here,

  it's bad enough that I will suffer hearing

  what will happen-nothing can make me deaf

  to that-I'll just hear, not stain my vision

  which such terrible sights, when they can be avoided.

  PIRITHOUS

  Sir, my good lord,

  Your sister will no further.

  Sir, my good lord,

  your sister wants to stop here.

  THESEUS

  O, she must.

  She shall see deeds of honor in their kind

  Which sometime show well, pencill’d. Nature now

  Shall make and act the story, the belief

  Both seal’d with eye and ear. You must be present,

  You are the victor’s meed, the price and garland

  To crown the question’s title.

  Oh, she must come on.

  She shall see such deeds of honour that will

  later make a fine painting. You shall see the story

  created by Nature, and you need to use

  your eyes and ears for that. You must be there,

  you are the winner's prize, the reward and trophy

  when the question is resolved.

  EMILIA

  Pardon me,

  If I were there, I’ld wink.

  Excuse me,

  If I was there, I would faint.

  THESEUS

  You must be there;

  This trial is as ’twere i’ th’ night, and you

  The only star to shine.

  You must be there,

  it's as if this trail were at night time, and you

  are the only star shining.

  EMILIA

  I am extinct,

  There is but envy in that light which shows

  The one the other. Darkness, which ever was

  The dam of Horror, who does stand accurs’d

  Of many mortal millions, may even now,

  By casting her black mantle over both,

  That neither could find other, get herself

  Some part of a good name, and many a murder

  Set off whereto she’s guilty.

  I am dark to them,

  it's only hatred which lets them see

  each other. Darkness, which has always

  created horror, which is hated

  by so many millions of men, could now,

  by throwing her black cloak over both,

  so that neither could find the other, get herself

  something of a good name, and be forgiven

  many of the murders she's been responsible for.

  HIPPOLYTA

  You must go.

  You must go.

  EMILIA

  In faith, I will not.

  I swear I won't.

  THESEUS

  Why, the knights must kindle

  Their valor at your eye. Know, of this war

  You are the treasure, and must needs be by

  To give the service pay.

  Why, the knights need to get

  their bravery from your looks. You are the

  treasure they're fighting for, and you must

  be on hand to pay the bill.

  EMILIA

  Sir, pardon me,

  The title of a kingdom may be tried

  Out of itself.

  Sir, excuse me,

  people can fight for a kingdom

  outside its borders.

  THESEUS

  Well, well then, at your pleasure.

  Those that remain with you could wish their office

  To any of their enemies.

  Well, well then, as you wish.

  Those who stay with you will wish

  their enemies were in their place.

  HIPPOLYTA

  Farewell, sister,

  I am like to know your husband ’fore yourself

  By some small start of time. He whom the gods

  Do of the two know best, I pray them he

  Be made your lot.

  Farewell, sister.

  It seems I will know who your husband is

  a little while before you do. I pray that

  you get the one who is most favoured

  by the gods.

  Exeunt Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, etc.

  EMILIA

  Arcite is gently visag’d; yet his eye

  Is like an engine bent, or a sharp weapon

  In a soft sheath; mercy and manly courage

  Are bedfellows in his visage. Palamon

  Has a most menacing aspect, his brow

  Is grav’d, and seems to bury what it frowns on,

  Yet sometime ’tis not so, but alters to

  The quality of his thoughts; long time his eye

  Will dwell upon his object; melancholy

  Becomes him nobly. So does Arcite’s mirth,

  But Palamon’s sadness is a kind of mirth,

  So mingled as if mirth did make him sad,

  And sadness merry; those darker humors that

  Stick misbecomingly on others, on him

  Live in fair dwelling.

  Cornets. Trumpets sound as to a charge.

  Hark how yon spurs to spirit do incite

  The princes to their proof! Arcite may win me,

  And yet may Palamon wound Arcite to

  The spoiling of his figure. O, what pity

  Enough for such a chance? If I were by,

  I might do hurt, for they would glance their eyes

  Toward my seat, and in that motion might

  Omit a ward, or forfeit an offense,

  Which crav’d that very time. It is much better

  I am not there. O, better never born

  Than minister to such harm!

  Cornets. A great cry and noise within, crying “A Palamon!”

  Enter Servant.

  What is the chance?

  Arcite has a sweet face, but his eye

  is like a coiled spring, or a sharp weapon

  in a soft sheath; mercy and manly courage

  share his face. Palamon

  looks very fierce, his brow

  is furrowed, and it seems to want to kill what it frowns at,

  but sometimes it isn't, but changes

  depending on his thoughts; he will

  gaze on his subject for a long time,

  sorrow suits him well. So does Arcite's laughter,

  but Palamon's sadness is a kind of laughter,

  he's so mixed it's as if laughter makes him sad,

  and sadness happy; those dark moods that

  look so unpleasant in others

  look sweet on him.

 
; Hear how those spirit lifting sounds call

  the princes to their test! Arcite might win me,

  but Palamon might wound Arcite in such a way

  as to spoil his looks. That would be an impossibly

  pitiful outcome. If I were near,

  I might do harm, because they would glance

  towards me, and as they did they might

  miss a chance to defend or attack

  that was theirs for the taking. It is much better that

  I am not there. Oh, it would have been better

  for me never to be born rather than be the the cause of such harm!

  What's happened?

  SERV.

  The cry’s “A Palamon!”

  They're shouting, "For Palamon!"

  EMILIA

  Then he has won. ’Twas ever likely:

  He look’d all grace and success, and he is

  Doubtless the prim’st of men. I prithee run

  And tell me how it goes.

  Then he has won. It was always likely:

  he looked the most graceful and victorious,

  and he is surely the greatest of men. Please run

  and tell me what's happened.

  Shout and cornets. Crying “A Palamon!” within.

  SERV.

  Still “Palamon!”

  Still "Palamon!"

  EMILIA

  Run and inquire.

  Exit Servant.

  Poor servant, thou hast lost.

  Upon my right side still I wore thy picture,

  Palamon’s on the left. Why so, I know not;

  I had no end in’t else; chance would have it so.

  On the sinister side the heart lies; Palamon

  Had the best-boding chance.

  Another cry, and shout within, and cornets.

  This burst of clamor

  Is sure th’ end o’ th’ combat.

  Run and ask.

  Poor servant, you have lost.

  I carried your picture on my right side,

  with Palamon's on the left. Why I did, I don't know;

  I had no other hand in it; that's how fate decreed.

  The heart is on the left side; Palamon

  had the best chance.

  This outburst

  surely marks the end of the fight.

  Enter Servant.

  SERV.

  They said that Palamon had Arcite’s body

  Within an inch o’ th’ pyramid, that the cry

  Was general “A Palamon!”; but anon

  Th’ assistants made a brave redemption, and

  The two bold titlers at this instant are

  Hand to hand at it.

  They said that Palamon had Arcite's body

  within an inch of the pyramid, and the cry went up,

  "Palamon's won!"; but quickly

  his seconds saved him, and

  the two bold combatants are still

  at it, hand to hand.

  EMILIA

  Were they metamorphis’d

  Both into one—O why? There were no woman

  Worth so compos’d a man! Their single share,

  Their nobleness peculiar to them, gives

  The prejudice of disparity, value’s shortness,

  To any lady breathing.

  Cornets. Cry within, “Arcite, Arcite!”

  More exulting?

  “Palamon” still?

  I wish they could both be made into one man-

  Why wish that? There's no woman

  who deserves a man like that! Their individual qualities,

  the nobility that's all their own, already

  make them far above the value

  of any lady alive.

  More cheering?

  Still "Palamon"?

  SERV.

  Nay, now the sound is “Arcite.”

  No, now they're calling "Arcite".

  EMILIA

  I prithee lay attention to the cry;

  Set both thine ears to th’ business.

  Please pay attention to what they're calling;

  listen as carefully as you can.

  Cornets. A great shout and cry, “Arcite! Victory!”

  SERV.

  The cry is

  “Arcite!” and “victory!” Hark, “Arcite! Victory!”

  The combat’s consummation is proclaim’d

  By the wind instruments.

  They're calling

  "Arcite!" and "victory!" Listen, "Arcite! Victory!"

  The end of the fight is marked

  by the trumpets.

  EMILIA

  Half-sights saw

  That Arcite was no babe. God’s lid, his richness

  And costliness of spirit look’d through him, it could

  No more be hid in him than fire in flax,

  Than humble banks can go to law with waters

  That drift-winds force to raging. I did think

  Good Palamon would miscarry, yet I knew not

  Why I did think so. Our reasons are not prophets

  When oft our fancies are. They are coming off.

  Alas, poor Palamon!

  Half blind people could see

  that Arcite was no child. I swear, his strength

  and wonderful spirit were obvious, it couldn't

  be hidden any more than fire in flax,

  any more than low banks can keep back the sea

  when the storm winds whip it into fury. I thought

  good Palamon would lose, but I don't know why

  I thought so. We often can't logically predict

  things our imaginations know. They are coming away.

  Alas, poor Palamon!

  Cornets.

  Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Arcite as victor, and Attendants, etc.

  THESEUS

  Lo, where our sister is in expectation,

  Yet quaking and unsettled. Fairest Emily,

  The gods by their divine arbitrement

  Have given you this knight: he is a good one

  As ever strook at head. Give me your hands.

  Receive you her, you him, be plighted with

  A love that grows as you decay.

  See where my sister waits expectantly,

  but shaking and worried. Fairest Emily,

  the gods have by divine judgment

  given you this knight: he is as good a man

  as ever struck a blow. Give me your hands.

  You take her, you take him, be joined with

  a love that grows as you get older.

  ARCITE

  Emily,

  To buy you I have lost what’s dearest to me

  Save what is bought, and yet I purchase cheaply,

  As I do rate your value.

  Emily,

  to buy you I have lost what was dearest to me

  apart from what I bought, but the price I put on you

  makes you a bargain at the price.

  THESEUS

  O loved sister,

  He speaks now of as brave a knight as e’er

  Did spur a noble steed. Surely the gods

  Would have him die a bachelor, lest his race

  Should show i’ th’ world too godlike. His behavior

  So charm’d me that methought Alcides was

  To him a sow of lead. If I could praise

  Each part of him to th’ all I have spoke, your Arcite

  Did not lose by’t; for he that was thus good

  Encount’red yet his better. I have heard

  Two emulous Philomels beat the ear o’ th’ night

  With their contentious throats, now one the higher,

  Anon the other, then again the first,

  And by and by out-breasted, that the sense

  Could not be judge between ’em. So it far’d

  Good space between these kinsmen; till heavens did

  Make hardly one the winner.—Wear the girlond

  With joy that you have won.—For the subdu’d,

 
; Give them our present justice, since I know

  Their lives but pinch ’em. Let it here be done.

  The scene’s not for our seeing, go we hence,

  Right joyful, with some sorrow.—Arm your prize,

  I know you will not loose her.—Hippolyta,

  I see one eye of yours conceives a tear,

  The which it will deliver.

  Oh beloved sister,

  he's talking about as brave a knight who ever

  rode a good horse. Surely the gods

  wanted him to die a bachelor, in case he should bring

  children into the world who were too like gods. I found

  his behaviour so charming that I thought Alcides

  was a block of lead in comparison. If I could praise

  every part of him in this way, your Arcite

  wouldn't lose by the comparison; he that was so good

  came across his better. I have heard

  two battling nightingales singing their

  competing songs in the night, one louder

  then the other, then the first again,

  then the second, until one

  couldn't judge between them. It was like this

  for a long time between these kinsmen; until the heavens

  just allowed one to edge it. Wear the garland

  you have won with joy. For the losers,

  execute my sentence on them at once, for I know

  their lives are now painful to them. Let it be done here.

  We don't want to see it, let's leave,

  very happy but with some sorrow. - Take your prize,

  I know you won't let her go.- Hippolyta,

  I can see there is a tear in your eye,

  about to fall.

  EMILIA

  Is this winning?

  O all you heavenly powers, where is your mercy?

  But that your wills have said it must be so,

  And charge me live to comfort this unfriended,

  This miserable prince, that cuts away

  A life more worthy from him than all women,

  I should and would die too.

 

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