What passion would enclose thee!
Enter PALAMON as out of a bush, with his shackles; he bends his fist at Arcite.
PALAMON Traitor kinsman,
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Thou shouldst perceive my passion, if these signs
Of prisonment were off me and this hand
But owner of a sword! By all oaths in one,
I and the justice of my love would make thee
A confessed traitor! O, thou most perfidious
35
That ever gently looked, the void’st of honour
That e’er bore gentle token, falsest cousin
That ever blood made kin: call’st thou her thine?
I’ll prove it in my shackles, with these hands,
Void of appointment, that thou liest, and art
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A very thief in love, a chaffy lord
Not worth the name of villain. Had I a sword
And these house-clogs away –
ARCITE Dear cousin Palamon –
PALAMON Cosener Arcite, give me language such
As thou hast showed me feat.
ARCITE a Not finding in
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The circuit of my breast any gross stuff
To form me like your blazon holds me to
This gentleness of answer. ’Tis your passion
That thus mistakes, the which to you being enemy,
Cannot to me be kind: honour and honesty
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I cherish and depend on, howsoe’er
You skip them in me, and with them, fair coz,
I’ll maintain my proceedings. Pray be pleased
To show in generous terms your griefs, since that
Your question’s with your equal, who professes
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To clear his own way with the mind and sword
Of a true gentlemen.
PALAMON That thou durst, Arcite!
ARCITE My coz, my coz, you have been well advertised
How much I dare; you’ve seen me use my sword
Against th’advice of fear. Sure, of another
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You would not hear me doubted, but your silence
Should break out, though i’th’ sanctuary.
PALAMON Sir,
I have seen you move in such a place, which well
Might justify your manhood; you were called
A good knight and a bold. But the whole week’s not fair
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If any day it rain: their valiant temper
Men lose when they incline to treachery
And then they fight like compelled bears, would fly
Were they not tied.
ARCITE Cousin, you might as well
Speak this and act it in your glass as to
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His ear which now disdains you.
PALAMON Come up to me;
Quit me of those cold gyves; give me a sword,
Though it be rusty, and the charity
Of one meal lend me. Come before me then,
A good sword in thy hand, and do but say
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That Emily is thine – I will forgive
The trespass thou hast done me, yea, my life,
If then thou carry’t, and brave souls in shades
That have died manly, which will seek of me
Some news from earth, they shall get none but this:
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That thou art brave and noble.
ARCITE Be content.
Again betake you to your hawthorn house.
With counsel of the night, I will be here
With wholesome viands. These impediments
Will I file off; you shall have garments and
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Perfumes to kill the smell o’th’ prison. After,
When you shall stretch yourself and say but, ‘Arcite,
I am in plight’, there shall be at your choice
Both sword and armour.
PALAMON O you heavens, dares any
So nobly bear a guilty business? None
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But only Arcite; therefore none but Arcite
In this kind but so bold.
ARCITE Sweet Palamon. [Offers to embrace him.]
PALAMON
I do embrace you and your offer; for
Your offer do’t I only, sir; your person
Without hypocrisy I may not wish
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More than my sword’s edge on’t.
ARCITE You hear the horns; [Horns.]
Enter your musit, lest this match between’s
Be crossed ere met. Give me your hand; farewell.
I’ll bring you every needful thing. I pray you
Take comfort and be strong.
PALAMON Pray hold your promise
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And do the deed with a bent brow. Most certain
You love me not; be rough with me and pour
This oil out of your language. By this air,
I could for each word give a cuff, my stomach
Not reconciled by reason.
ARCITE Plainly spoken.
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Yet pardon me hard language. When I spur
My horse I chide him not; content and anger
In me have but one face. [Horns again.]
Hark, sir, they call
The scattered to the banquet. You must guess
I have an office there.
PALAMON Sir, your attendance
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Cannot please heaven and I know your office
Unjustly is achieved.
ARCITE ’Tis a good title.
I am persuaded, this question, sick between ’s,
By bleeding must be cured. I am a suitor
That to your sword you will bequeath this plea
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And talk of it no more.
PALAMON But this one word:
You are going now to gaze upon my mistress –
For, note you, mine she is –
ARCITE Nay, then –
PALAMON Nay, pray you!
You talk of feeding me to breed me strength.
You are going now to look upon a sun
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That strengthens what it looks on; there
You have a vantage on me. But enjoy’t till
I may enforce my remedy. Farewell. Exeunt.
3.2 Enter Jailer’s Daughter alone.
DAUGHTER
He has mistook the brake I meant, is gone
After his fancy. ’Tis now well-nigh morning.
No matter: would it were perpetual night,
And darkness lord o’th’ world! – Hark, ’tis a wolf!
In me hath grief slain fear and but for one thing
5
I care for nothing and that’s Palamon.
I reck not if the wolves would jaw me, so
He had this file. What if I hallooed for him?
I cannot hallow. If I whooped – what then?
If he not answered, I should call a wolf,
10
And do him but that service. I have heard
Strange howls this livelong night; why may’t not be
They have made prey of him? He has no weapons;
He cannot run: the jangling of his gyves
Might call fell things to listen, who have in them
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A sense to know a man unarmed and can
Smell where resistance is. I’ll set it down,
He’s torn to pieces; they howled many together
And then they fed on him. So much for that:
Be bold to ring the bell. How stand I then?
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All’s chared when he is gone – no, no, I lie.
My father’s to be hanged for his escape,
Myself to beg, if I prized life so much
As to deny my act – but that I would not,
Should I try death by dozens. I am moped.
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Food took I none these
two days;
Sipped some water. I have not closed mine eyes,
Save when my lids scoured off their brine. Alas,
Dissolve, my life! Let not my sense unsettle,
Lest I should drown, or stab, or hang myself.
30
Oh, state of nature, fail together in me,
Since thy best props are warped! – So, which way now?
The best way is the next way to a grave:
Each errant step beside is torment. Lo,
The moon is down, the crickets chirp, the screech-owl
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Calls in the dawn; all offices are done
Save what I fail in. But the point is this:
An end, and that is all. Exit.
3.3 Enter ARCITE with meat, wine and files.
ARCITE
I should be near the place. Ho! Cousin Palamon?
PALAMON [from the bush]
ARCITE?
ARCITE The same. I have brought you food and files.
Come forth and fear not; here’s no Theseus.
Enter PALAMON.
PALAMON Nor none so honest, Arcite.
ARCITE That’s no matter.
We’ll argue that hereafter. Come, take courage!
5
You shall not die thus beastly; here, sir, drink –
I know you are faint – then I’ll talk further with you.
PALAMON Arcite, thou mightst now poison me.
ARCITE I might,
But I must fear you first. Sit down and, good now,
No more of these vain parleys; let us not,
10
Having our ancient reputation with us,
Make talk for fools and cowards. To your health –
[Drinks.]
PALAMON Do!
ARCITE Pray sit down then, and let me entreat you,
By all the honesty and honour in you,
15
No mention of this woman; ’twill disturb us.
We shall have time enough.
PALAMON Well, sir, I’ll pledge you. [Drinks.]
ARCITE Drink a good hearty draught: it breeds good blood, man.
Do not you feel it thaw you?
PALAMON Stay, I’ll tell you
After a draught or two more.
ARCITE Spare it not;
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The Duke has more, coz. Eat now.
PALAMON Yes.
ARCITE I am glad
You have so good a stomach.
PALAMON I am gladder
I have so good meat to’t.
ARCITE Is’t not mad lodging,
Here in the wild woods, cousin?
PALAMON Yes, for them
That have wild consciences.
ARCITE How tastes your victuals?
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Your hunger needs no sauce, I see.
PALAMON Not much.
But if it did, yours is too tart, sweet cousin.
What is this?
ARCITE Venison.
PALAMON ’Tis a lusty meat.
Give me more wine. – Here, Arcite, to the wenches
We have known in our days. The Lord Steward’s daughter –
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Do you remember her?
ARCITE After you, coz.
PALAMON She loved a black-haired man –
ARCITE She did so; well, sir?
PALAMON And I have heard some call him Arcite, and –
ARCITE Out with’t, faith.
PALAMON She met him in an arbour.
What did she there, coz? play o’th’ virginals?
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ARCITE Something she did, sir –
PALAMON Made her groan a month for’t.
Or two, or three, or ten.
ARCITE The Marshall’s sister
Had her share too, as I remember, cousin;
Else there be tales abroad. You’ll pledge her?
PALAMON Yes.
ARCITE A pretty brown wench ’tis. There was a time
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When young men went a-hunting, and a wood,
And a broad beech; and thereby hangs a tale –
Hey ho.
PALAMON For Emily, upon my life! Fool,
Away with this strained mirth! I say again,
That sigh was breathed for Emily; base cousin,
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Dar’st thou break first?
ARCITE You are wide.
PALAMON By heaven and earth,
There’s nothing in thee honest.
ARCITE Then I’ll leave you;
You are a beast now.
PALAMON As thou mak’st me, traitor.
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 552
