To those above us. Let no due be wanting.
5
They have a noble work in hand, will honour
The very powers that love ’em.
Flourish of cornets. Enter PALAMON and ARCITE and their knights.
PIRITHOUS Sir, they enter.
THESEUS You valiant and strong-hearted enemies,
You royal german foes, that this day come
To blow that nearness out that flames between ye:
10
Lay by your anger for an hour and, dove-like,
Before the holy altars of your helpers,
The all-feared gods, bow down your stubborn bodies.
Your ire is more than mortal; so your help be;
And, as the gods regard ye, fight with justice.
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I’ll leave you to your prayers and betwixt ye
I part my wishes.
PIRITHOUS Honour crown the worthiest.
Exeunt Theseus and his train.
PALAMON The glass is running now that cannot finish
Till one of us expire. Think you but thus:
That were there aught in me which strove to show
20
Mine enemy in this business, were’t one eye
Against another, arm oppressed by arm,
I would destroy th’offender, coz, I would,
Though parcel of myself. Then from this gather
How I should tender you.
ARCITE I am in labour
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To push your name, your ancient love, our kindred
Out of my memory and i’th’ selfsame place
To seat something I would confound. So hoist we
The sails that must these vessels port, even where
The heavenly limiter pleases.
PALAMON You speak well.
30
Before I turn, let me embrace thee, cousin.
This I shall never do again.
ARCITE One farewell.
PALAMON Why, let it be so. Farewell, coz.
ARCITE Farewell, sir.
Exeunt Palamon and his knights.
[Arcite addresses his three knights.]
Knights, kinsmen, lovers – yea, my sacrifices –
True worshippers of Mars, whose spirit in you
35
Expels the seeds of fear and th’apprehension
Which still is father of it: go with me
Before the god of our profession; there
Require of him the hearts of lions and
The breath of tigers, yea the fierceness too,
40
Yea, the speed also – to go on, I mean:
Else wish we to be snails. You know my prize
Must be dragged out of blood; force and great feat
Must put my garland on, where she sticks
The queen of flowers. Our intercession then
45
Must be to him that makes the camp a cistern
Brimmed with the blood of men. Give me your aid
And bend your spirits towards him.
[They prostrate themselves before the altar, then kneel.]
Thou mighty one, that with thy power hast turned
Green Neptune into purple; whose approach
50
Comets prewarn; whose havoc in vast field
Unearthed skulls proclaim; whose breath blows down
The teeming Ceres’ foison; who dost pluck
With hand armipotent from forth blue clouds
The masoned turrets; that both mak’st and break’st
55
The stony girths of cities: me thy pupil,
Youngest follower of thy drum, instruct this day
With military skill, that to thy laud
I may advance my streamer and by thee
Be styled the lord o’th’ day. Give me, great Mars,
60
Some token of thy pleasure.
[Here they fall on their faces, as formerly, and there is heard clanging of armour, with a short thunder, as the burst of a battle, whereupon they all rise and bow to the altar.]
O great corrector of enormous times;
Shaker of o’er-rank states; thou grand decider
Of dusty and old titles, that heal’st with blood
The earth when it is sick and cur’st the world
65
O’th’ pleurisy of people: I do take
Thy signs auspiciously and in thy name
To my design march boldly. Let us go.
Exeunt Arcite and his knights.
Enter PALAMON and his knights, with the former observance.
PALAMON Our stars must glister with new fire or be
Today extinct. Our argument is love,
70
Which, if the goddess of it grant, she gives
Victory too; then blend your spirits with mine,
You whose free nobleness do make my cause
Your personal hazard. To the goddess Venus
Commend we our proceeding and implore
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Her power unto our party.
[Here they kneel as formerly.]
Hail, sovereign queen of secrets, who hast power
To call the fiercest tyrant from his rage
And weep unto a girl; that hast the might,
Even with an eye-glance, to choke Mars’s drum
80
And turn th’alarm to whispers; that canst make
A cripple flourish with his crutch and cure him
Before Apollo; that mayst force the king
To be his subject’s vassal and induce
Stale gravity to dance! The polled bachelor –
85
Whose youth, like wanton boys through bonfires,
Have skipped thy flame – at seventy, thou canst catch
And make him, to the scorn of his hoarse throat,
Abuse young lays of love. What godlike power
Hast thou not power upon? To Phoebus thou
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Add’st flames hotter than his: the heavenly fires
Did scorch his mortal son, thine him; the huntress
All moist and cold, some say, began to throw
Her bow away and sigh. Take to thy grace
Me thy vowed soldier, who do bear thy yoke
95
As ’twere a wreath of roses, yet is heavier
Than lead itself, stings more than nettles.
I have never been foul-mouthed against thy law;
Ne’er revealed secret, for I knew none – would not,
Had I kenned all there were. I never practised
100
Upon man’s wife nor would the libels read
Of liberal wits. I never at great feasts
Sought to betray a beauty, but have blushed
At simpering sirs that did. I have been harsh
To large confessors and have hotly asked them
105
If they had mothers – I had one, a woman,
And women ’twere they wronged. I knew a man
Of eighty winters, this I told them, who
A lass of fourteen brided. ’Twas thy power
To put life into dust: the aged cramp
110
Had screwed his square foot round;
The gout had knit his fingers into knots;
Torturing convulsions from his globy eyes
Had almost drawn their spheres, that what was life
In him seemed torture. This anatomy
115
Had by his young fair fere a boy, and I
Believed it was his, for she swore it was –
And who would not believe her? Brief, I am,
To those that prate and have done, no companion;
To those that boast and have not, a defier;
120
To those that would and cannot, a rejoicer.
Yea, him I do not love that tells close offices
The foulest way nor names concealments in
> The boldest language. Such a one I am
And vow that lover never yet made sigh
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Truer than I. O, then, most soft sweet goddess,
Give me the victory of this question, which
Is true love’s merit, and bless me with a sign
Of thy great pleasure.
[Here music is heard; doves are seen to flutter. They fall
again upon their faces, then rise to their knees.]
O thou that from eleven to ninety reign’st
130
In mortal bosoms, whose chase is this world
And we in herds thy game: I give thee thanks
For this fair token, which, being laid unto
Mine innocent true heart, arms in assurance
My body to this business. Let us rise
135
And bow before the goddess. [They rise and bow.]
Time comes on.
Exeunt Palamon and his knights.
Still music of recorders. Enter EMILIA in white, her hair about her shoulders, wearing a wheaten wreath. One maid in white holding up her train, her hair stuck with flowers.
One maid before her carrying a silver hind, in which is conveyed incense and sweet odours, which being set upon the altar, her maids standing aloof, she sets fire to it. Then they curtsey and kneel.
EMILIA O sacred, shadowy, cold and constant queen,
Abandoner of revels, mute contemplative,
Sweet, solitary, white as chaste, and pure
As wind-fanned snow, who to thy female knights
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Allow’st no more blood than will make a blush,
Which is their order’s robe: I here, thy priest,
Am humbled ’fore thine altar. O, vouchsafe
With that thy rare green eye, which never yet
Beheld thing maculate, look on thy virgin;
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And, sacred silver mistress, lend thine ear,
Which ne’er heard scurrile term, into whose port
Ne’er entered wanton sound, to my petition
Seasoned with holy fear. This is my last
Of vestal office. I am bride-habited,
150
But maiden-hearted; a husband I have ’pointed,
But do not know him. Out of two, I should
Choose one and pray for his success, but I
Am guiltless of election. Of mine eyes,
Were I to lose one, they are equal precious;
155
I could doom neither: that which perished should
Go to’t unsentenced. Therefore, most modest Queen,
He of the two pretenders that best loves me
And has the truest title in’t, let him
Take off my wheaten garland, or else grant
160
The file and quality I hold I may
Continue in thy band.
[Here the hind vanishes under the altar and in the place
ascends a rose tree, having one rose upon it.]
See what our general of ebbs and flows,
Out from the bowels of her holy altar,
With sacred art advances: but one rose!
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If well inspired, this battle shall confound
Both these brave knights and I, a virgin flower,
Must grow alone, unplucked.
[Here is heard a sudden twang of instruments, and the
rose falls from the tree, which then descends.]
The flower is fall’n; the tree descends. O, mistress,
Thou here dischargest me; I shall be gathered –
170
I think so – but I know not thine own will;
Unclasp thy mystery! – I hope she’s pleased;
Her signs were gracious. They curtsey and exeunt.
5.2 Enter Doctor, Jailer and Wooer in the habit of Palamon.
DOCTOR
Has this advice I told you done any good upon her?
WOOER
O, very much. The maids that kept her company
Have half persuaded her that I am Palamon.
Within this half hour she came smiling to me
And asked me what I would eat and when I would kiss her.
5
I told her, ‘Presently!’ and kissed her twice.
DOCTOR
’Twas well done. Twenty times had been far better,
For there the cure lies mainly.
WOOER Then she told me
She would watch with me tonight, for well she knew
What hour my fit would take me.
DOCTOR Let her do so.
10
And, when your fit comes, fit her home, and presently.
WOOER She would have me sing.
DOCTOR You did so?
WOOER No.
DOCTOR ’ Twas very ill-done then;
You should observe her every way.
WOOER Alas,
I have no voice, sir, to confirm her that way.
15
DOCTOR That’s all one, if ye make a noise.
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 558
