The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

Fitting the persons that must use it.

  PIRITHOUS

  Yes, sir.

  THESEUS

  Come, I’ll go visit ’em—I cannot stay,

  Their fame has fired me so. Till they appear,

  Good friend, be royal.

  PIRITHOUS There shall want no bravery.

  EMILIA ⌈aside⌉

  Poor wench, go weep—for whosoever wins

  Loses a noble cousin for thy sins.

  Exeunt

  4.3 Enter the Jailer, the Wooer, and the Doctor

  DOCTOR Her distraction is more at some time of the moon than at other some, is it not?

  JAILER She is continually in a harmless distemper: sleeps little; altogether without appetite, save often drinking; dreaming of another world, and a better; and what broken piece of matter soe’er she’s about, the name ’Palamon’ lards it, that she farces every businessEnter the Jailer’s Daughter

  withal, fits it to every question. Look where she comes—you shall perceive her behaviour.

  They stand apart

  JAILER’S DAUGHTER I have forgot it quite—the burden on’t was ‘Down-a, down-a’, and penned by no worse man than Giraldo, Emilia’s schoolmaster. He’s as fantastical, too, as ever he may go upon’s legs—for in the next world will Dido see Palamon, and then will she be out of love with Aeneas.

  DOCTOR What stuff’s here? Poor soul.

  JAILER E’en thus all day long.

  JAILER’S DAUGHTER Now for this charm that I told you of—you must bring a piece of silver on the tip of your tongue, or no ferry: then, if it be your chance to come where the blessed spirits are—there’s a sight now! We maids that have our livers perished, cracked to pieces with love, we shall come there and do nothing all day long but pick flowers with Proserpine. Then will I make Palamon a nosegay, then let him mark me, then—

  DOCTOR How prettily she’s amiss! Note her a little further.

  JAILER’S DAUGHTER Faith, I’ll tell you: sometime we go to barley-break, we of the blessed. Alas, ’tis a sore life they have i’th’ other place—such burning, frying, boiling, hissing, howling, chattering, cursing—O they have shrewd measure—take heed! If one be mad or hang or drown themselves, thither they go, Jupiter bless us, and there shall we be put in a cauldron of lead and usurers’ grease, amongst a whole million of cutpurses, and there boil like a gammon of bacon that will never be enough.

  DOCTOR How her brain coins!

  JAILER’S DAUGHTER Lords and courtiers that have got maids with child—they are in this place. They shall stand in fire up to the navel and in ice up to th’ heart, and there th’offending part burns, and the deceiving part freezes—in truth a very grievous punishment as one would think for such a trifle. Believe me, one would marry a leprous witch to be rid on’t, I’ll assure you.

  DOCTOR How she continues this fancy! ’Tis not an engrafted madness, but a most thick and profound melancholy.

  JAILER’S DAUGHTER To hear there a proud lady and a proud city wife howl together! I were a beast an I’d call it good sport. One cries, ‘O this smoke!’, th‘other, ‘This fire!’; one cries, ‘O that ever I did it behind the arras!’, and then howls—th’other curses a suing fellow and her garden-house.

  (Sings) ‘I will be true, my stars, my fate . . .’

  Exit Daughter

  JAILER (to the Doctor) What think you of her, sir?

  DOCTOR I think she has a perturbed mind, which I cannot minister to.

  JAILER Alas, what then?

  DOCTOR Understand you she ever affected any man ere she beheld Palamon?

  JAILER I was once, sir, in great hope she had fixed her liking on this gentleman, my friend.

  WOOER I did think so too, and would account I had a great penn’orth on’t to give half my state that both she and I, at this present, stood unfeignedly on the same terms. 66

  DOCTOR That intemperate surfeit of her eye hath distempered the other senses. They may return and settle again to execute their preordained faculties, but they are now in a most extravagant vagary. This you must do: confine her to a place where the light may rather seem to steal in than be permitted; take upon you, young sir her friend, the name of Palamon; say you come to eat with her and to commune of love. This will catch her attention, for this her mind beats upon—other objects that are inserted ’tween her mind and eye become the pranks and friskins of her madness. Sing to her such green songs of love as she says Palamon hath sung in prison; come to her stuck in as sweet flowers as the season is mistress of, and thereto make an addition of some other compounded odours which are grateful to the sense. All this shall become Palamon, for Palamon can sing, and Palamon is sweet and every good thing. Desire to eat with her, carve her, drink to her, and still among intermingle your petition of grace and acceptance into her favour. Learn what maids have been her companions and playferes, and let them repair to her, with Palamon in their mouths, and appear with tokens as if they suggested for him. It is a falsehood she is in, which is with falsehoods to be combated. This may bring her to eat, to sleep, and reduce what’s now out of square in her into their former law and regiment. I have seen it approved, how many times I know not, but to make the number more I have great hope in this. I will between the passages of this project come in with my appliance. Let us put it in execution, and hasten the success, which doubt not will bring forth comfort.

  Exeunt

  5.1 ⌈An altar prepared.⌉ Flourish. Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, attendants

  THESEUS

  Now let ’em enter and before the gods

  Tender their holy prayers. Let the temples

  Burn bright with sacred fires, and the altars

  In hallowed clouds commend their swelling incense

  To those above us. Let no due be wanting.

  Flourish of cornetts

  They have a noble work in hand, will honour

  The very powers that love ’em.

  Enter Palamon with his three Knights ⌈at one door⌉, and Arcite with his three Knights ⌈at the other door⌉

  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,

  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.

  I’ll leave you to your prayers, and betwixt ye

  I part my wishes.

  PIRITHOUS

  Honour crown the worthiest.

  Exit Theseus and his train

  PALAMON (to Arcite)

  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

  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

  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.

  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 three Knights

  Knights, kinsmen, lovers—yea, my sacrific
es,

  True worshippers of Mars, whose spirit in you

  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,

  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 me, where she sticks,

  The queen of flowers. Our intercession, then,

  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 kneel before the altar, ⌈fall on their faces, then on their knees again⌉

  (Praying to Mars)

  Thou mighty one,

  That with thy power hast turned green Neptune into

  purple;

  Whose havoc in vast field comets prewarn,

  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

  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,

  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

  O’th’ plurisy of people, I do take

  Thy signs auspiciously, and in thy name,

  To my design, march boldly. (To his Knights) Let us go.

  Exeunt

  5.2 Enter Palamon and his Knights with the former observance

  PALAMON (to his Knights)

  Our stars must glister with new fire, or be

  Today extinct. Our argument is love,

  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

  Her power unto our party.

  Here they kneel before the altar, fall on’their faces then on their knees again

  (Praying to Venus) 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

  And turn th‘alarum 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

  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

  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

  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 that were. I never practised

  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 simp’ring sirs that did. I have been harsh

  To large confessors, and have hotly asked them

  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

  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

  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;

  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

  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 on their knees

  O thou that from eleven to ninety reign’st

  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. (To his Knights) Let us rise

  And bow before the goddess.

  They rise and bow

  Time comes on.

  Exeunt

  5.3 Still music of recorders. Enter Emilia in white, her hair about her shoulders, with a wheaten wreath; one in white holding up her train, her hair stuck with flowers; one before her carrying a silver hind in which is conveyed incense and sweet odours, which being set upon the altar, her maids standing apart, she sets fire to it. Then they curtsy and kneel

  EMILIA (praying to Diana)

  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

  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;

  And, sacred silver mistress, lend thine ear—

  Which ne’er heard scurril 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,

  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—

  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

  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

  (To her women) See what our general of ebbs and flows

  Out from the bowels of her holy altar,

  With sacred act, advances—but one rose!

  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

  The flower is fall’n, the tree descends. (To Diana) O

  mistress,

  Thou here dischargest me—I shall be gathered.

  I think so, but I know not thine own will.

  Unclasp thy mystery. ⌈To her women⌉ I hope she’s

  pleased;

  Her signs were gracious.

  They curtsy and exeunt

  5.4 Enter the Doctor, the jailer, and the 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. 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, 11

  And when your fit comes, fit her home,

  And presently.

  WOOER

  She would have me sing.

  DOCTOR

  You did so?

  WOOER

  No.