Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream,

  You may behold ’em.

  [The Third Queen rises]

  Lady, lady, alack —

  He that will all the treasure know o’th’ earth

  Must know the centre too; he that will fish 115

  For my least minnow, let him lead his line

  To catch one at my heart. O, pardon me:

  Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,

  Makes me a fool.

  Emi. Pray you, say nothing, pray you.

  Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in’t, 120

  Knows neither wet nor dry. If that you were

  The ground-piece of some painter, I would buy you

  T’instruct me ‘gainst a capital grief, indeed

  Such heart-pierced demonstration; but, alas,

  Being a natural sister of our sex, 125

  Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me

  That it shall make a counter-reflect’ gainst

  My brother’s heart, and warm it to some pity,

  Though it were made of stone. Pray have good comfort.

  The. Forward to th’ temple. Leave not out a jot 130

  O’th’ sacred ceremony.

  Fir. Que.. O, this celebration

  Will longer last and be more costly than

  Your suppliants’ war. Remember that your fame

  Knolls in the ear o’th’ world: what you do quickly

  Is not done rashly; your first thought is more 135

  Than others’ laboured meditance; your premeditating

  More than their actions. But, O Jove, your actions,

  Soon as they move, as ospreys do the fish,

  Subdue before they touch. Think, dear Duke, think

  What beds our slain kings have.

  Sec. Que.. What griefs our beds,

  That our dear lords have none.

  Thi. Que.. None fit for th’ dead.

  Those that with cords, knives, drams, precipitance,

  Weary of this world’s light, have to themselves

  Been death’s most horrid agents, human grace

  Affords them dust and shadow.

  Fir. Que.. But our lords 145

  Lie blist’ring fore the visitating sun,

  And were good kings, when living.

  The. It is true,

  And I will give you comfort to give your dead lords graves,

  The which to do must make some work with Creon.

  Fir. Que..

  And that work presents itself to th’ doing. 150

  Now ‘twill take form, the heats are gone tomorrow.

  Then, bootless toil must recompense itself

  With its own sweat; now he’s secure,

  Not dreams we stand before your puissance

  Rinsing our holy begging in our eyes 155

  To make petition clear.

  Sec. Que.. Now you may take him,

  Drunk with his victory.

  Thi. Que.. And his army full

  Of bread and sloth.

  The. Artesius, that best knowest

  How to draw out, fit to this enterprise

  The prim’st for this proceeding and the number 160

  To carry such a business: forth and levy

  Our worthiest instruments, whilst we dispatch

  This grand act of our life, this daring deed

  Of fate in wedlock.

  Fir. Que.. (to the other two Queens)

  Dowagers, take hands;

  Let us be widows to our woes; delay 165

  Commends us to a famishing hope.

  All Three Queens Farewell.

  Sec. Que.. We come unseasonably, but when could grief

  Cull forth, as unpanged judgement can, fitt’st time

  For best solicitation?

  The. Why, good ladies,

  This is a service whereto I am going 170

  Greater than any war — it more imports me

  Than all the actions that I have foregone,

  Or futurely can cope.

  Fir. Que.. The more proclaiming

  Our suit shall be neglected when her arms,

  Able to lock Jove from a synod, shall 175

  By warranting moonlight corslet thee! O when

  Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall

  Upon thy tasteful lips, what wilt thou think

  Of rotten kings or blubbered queens? What care

  For what thou feel’st not, what thou feel’st being able

  To make Mars spurn his drum? O, if thou couch 181

  But one night with her, every hour in’t will

  Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and

  Thou shalt remember nothing more than what

  That banquet bids thee to.

  Hipp. (to Theseus) Though much unlike 185

  You should be so transported, as much sorry

  I should be such a suitor — yet I think

  Did I not by th’abstaining of my joy,

  Which breeds a deeper longing, cure their surfeit

  That craves a present medicine, I should pluck 190

  All ladies’ scandal on me. FKneelsl Therefore, sir,

  As I shall here make trial of my prayers,

  Either presuming them to have some force,

  Or sentencing for aye their vigour dumb,

  Prorogue this business we are going about, and hang

  Your shield afore your heart — about that neck 196

  Which is my fee, and which I freely lend

  To do these poor queens service.

  All Three Queens (to Emilia) O, help now,

  Our cause cries for your knee.

  Emi. (kneels to Theseus) If you grant not

  My sister her petition in that force 200

  With that celerity and nature which

  She makes it in, from henceforth I’ll not dare

  To ask you anything, nor be so hardy

  Ever to take a husband.

  The. Pray stand up.

  [They rise]

  I am entreating of myself to do 205

  That which you kneel to have me. — Pirithous,

  Lead on the bride: get you and pray the gods

  For success and return; omit not anything

  In the pretended celebration. — Queens,

  Follow your soldier. (To Artesius) As before, hence you,

  And at the banks of Aulis meet us with 211

  The forces you can raise, where we shall find

  The moiety of a number for a business

  More bigger looked. Exit Artesius

  (To Hippolyta) Since that our theme is haste,

  I stamp this kiss upon thy current lip — 215

  Sweet, keep it as my token. (To the wedding party) Set you forward,

  For I will see you gone.

  (To Emilia) Farewell, my beauteous sister. — Pirithous,

  Keep the feast full: bate not an hour on’t.

  Pir. Sir,

  I’ll follow you at heels. The feast’s solemnity 220

  Shall want till your return.

  The. Cousin, I charge you

  Budge not from Athens. We shall be returning

  Ere you can end this feast, of which, I pray you,

  Make no abatement. — Once more, farewell all.

  Exeunt Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous, and train towards the temple

  Fir. Que..Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o’th’ world.

  Sec. Que..And earn’st a deity equal with Mars — 226

  Thi. Que.. If not above him, for

  Thou being but mortal mak’st affections bend

  To godlike honours; they themselves, some say,

  Groan under such a mast’ry.

  The. As we are men, 230

  Thus should we do; being sensually subdued

  We lose our human title. Good cheer, ladies.

  Now turn we towards your comforts. [Flourish.] Exeunt

  Act I. Scene II.

  ENTER PALAMON AND Arcite

  Arc. Dear
Palamon, dearer in love than blood,

  And our prime cousin, yet unhardened in

  The crimes of nature, let us leave the city,

  Thebes, and the temptings in’t, before we further

  Sully our gloss of youth. 5

  And here to keep in abstinence we shame

  As in incontinence; for not to swim

  I’th’ aid o’th’ current were almost to sink —

  At least to frustrate striving; and to follow

  The common stream ’twould bring us to an eddy 10

  Where we should turn or drown; if labour through,

  Our gain but life and weakness.

  Pal. Your advice

  Is cried up with example. What strange ruins

  Since first we went to school may we perceive

  Walking in Thebes? Scars and bare weeds 15

  The gain o’th’ martialist who did propound

  To his bold ends honour and golden ingots,

  Which though he won, he had not; and now flirted

  By peace for whom he fought. Who then shall offer

  To Mars’s so-scorned altar? I do bleed 20

  When such I meet, and wish great Juno would

  Resume her ancient fit of jealousy

  To get the soldier work, that peace might purge

  For her repletion and retain anew

  Her charitable heart, now hard and harsher 25

  Than strife or war could be.

  Arc. Are you not out?

  Meet you no ruin but the soldier in

  The cranks and turns of Thebes? You did begin

  As if you met decays of many kinds.

  Perceive you none that do arouse your pity 30

  But th’unconsidered soldier?

  Pal. Yes, I pity

  Decays where’er I find them, but such most

  That, sweating in an honourable toil,

  Are paid with ice to cool ’em.

  Arc. ‘ Tis not this

  I did begin to speak of. This is virtue, 35

  Of no respect in Thebes. I spake of Thebes,

  How dangerous, if we will keep our honours,

  It is for our residing where every evil

  Hath a good colour, where every seeming good’s

  A certain evil, where not to be ev’n jump 40

  As they are here were to be strangers, and

  Such things to be, mere monsters.

  Pal. ’Tis in our power,

  Unless we fear that apes can tutor’s, to

  Be masters of our manners. What need I

  Affect another’s gait, which is not catching 45

  Where there is faith? Or to be fond upon

  Another’s way of speech, when by mine own

  I may be reasonably conceived — saved, too —

  Speaking it truly? Why am I bound

  By any generous bond to follow him 50

  Follows his tailor, haply so long until

  The followed make pursuit? Or let me know

  Why mine own barber is unblest — with him

  My poor chin, too — for ’tis not scissored just

  To such a favourite’s glass? What canon is there 55

  That does command my rapier from my hip

  To dangle’t in my hand? Or to go tiptoe

  Before the street be foul? Either I am

  The fore-horse in the team or I am none

  That draw i’th’ sequent trace. These poor slight sores 60

  Need not a plantain. That which rips my bosom

  Almost to th’ heart’s —

  Arc. Our uncle Creon.

  Pal. He,

  A most unbounded tyrant, whose successes

  Makes heaven unfeared and villainy assured

  Beyond its power there’s nothing; almost puts 65

  Faith in a fever, and deifies alone

  Voluble chance; who only attributes

  The faculties of other instruments

  To his own nerves and act; commands men’s service,

  And what they win in’t, boot and glory; one 70

  That fears not to do harm, good dares not. Let

  The blood of mine that’s sib to him be sucked

  From me with leeches. Let them break and fall

  Off me with that corruption.

  Arc. Clear-spirited cousin,

  Let’s leave his court that we may nothing share 75

  Of his loud infamy: for our milk

  Will relish of the pasture, and we must

  Be vile or disobedient; not his kinsmen

  In blood unless in quality.

  Pal. Nothing truer.

  I think the echoes of his shames have deafed 80

  The ears of heav’nly justice. Widows’ cries

  Descend again into their throats and have not

  Enter Valerius

  Due audience of the gods — Valerius.

  Val. The King calls for you; yet be leaden-footed

  Till his great rage be off him. Phoebus, when 85

  He broke his whipstock and exclaimed against

  The horses of the sun, but whispered to

  The loudness of his fury.

  Pal. Small winds shake him.

  But what’s the matter?

  Val. Theseus, who where he threats, appals, hath sent 90

  Deadly defiance to him and pronounces

  Ruin to Thebes, who is at hand to seal

  The promise of his wrath.

  Arc. Let him approach.

  But that we fear the gods in him, he brings not

  A jot of terror to us. Yet what man 95

  Thirds his own worth — the case is each of ours —

  When that his action’s dregged with mind assured

  ’Tis bad he goes about.

  Pal. Leave that unreasoned.

  Our services stand now for Thebes, not Creon,

  Yet to be neutral to him were dishonour, 100

  Rebellious to oppose. Therefore we must

  With him stand to the mercy of our fate,

  Who hath bounded our last minute.

  Arc. So we must.

  Is’t said this war’s afoot? Or it shall be

  On fail of some condition?

  Val. ’Tis in motion, 105

  The intelligence of state came in the instant

  With the defier.

  Pal. Let’s to the King, who, were he

  A quarter carrier of that honour which

  His enemy come in, the blood we venture

  Should be as for our health, which were not spent,

  Rather laid out for purchase. But, alas, 110

  Our hands advanced before our hearts, what will

  The fall o’th’ stroke do damage?

  Arc. Let th’event —

  That never-erring arbitrator — tell us

  When we know all ourselves, and let us follow 115

  The becking of our chance. Exeunt

  Act I. Scene III.

  ENTER PIRITHOUS, HIPPOLYTA, and Emilia

  Pir. No further.

  Hipp. Sir, farewell. Repeat my wishes

  To our great lord, of whose success I dare not

  Make any timorous question; yet I wish him

  Excess and overflow of power, an’t might be,

  To dure ill-dealing fortune. Speed to him; 5

  Store never hurts good governors.

  Pir. Though I know

  His ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they

  Must yield their tribute there. (To Emilia) My precious maid,

  Those best affections that the heavens infuse

  In their best-tempered pieces keep enthroned 10

  In your dear heart.

  Emi. Thanks, sir. Remember me

  To our all-royal brother, for whose speed

  The great Bellona I’ll solicit; and

  Since in our terrene state petitions are not

  Without gifts understood, I’ll offer to her 15

  What I shall be advised she likes. Our hearts

  Are
in his army, in his tent.

  Hipp. In’s bosom.

  We have been soldiers, and we cannot weep

  When our friends don their helms, or put to sea,

  Or tell of babes broached on the lance, or women 20

  That have sod their infants in — and after eat them —

  The brine they wept at killing ’em: then if

  You stay to see of us such spinsters, we

  Should hold you here forever.

  Pir. Peace be to you

  As I pursue this war, which shall be then 25

  Beyond further requiring. Exit Pirithous

  Emi. How his longing

  Follows his friend! Since his depart, his sports,

  Hipp. NOW alack, weak sister,

  Though craving seriousness and skill, passed slightly

  His careless execution, where nor gain

  Made him regard or loss consider, but

  Playing one business in his hand, another

  Directing in his head, his mind nurse equal

  To these so diff’ring twins. Have you observed him

  Since our great lord departed?

  Hipp. With much labour;

  And I did love him for’t. They two have cabined 35

  In many as dangerous as poor a corner,

  Peril and want contending; they have skiffed

  Torrents whose roaring tyranny and power

  I’th’ least of these was dreadful, and they have

  Fought out together where death’s self was lodged; 40

  Yet fate hath brought them off. Their knot of love,

  Tied, weaved, entangled with so true, so long,

  And with a finger of so deep a cunning,

  May be outworn, never undone. I think

  Theseus cannot be umpire to himself, 45

  Cleaving his conscience into twain and doing

  Each side like justice, which he loves best.

  Emi. Doubtless

  There is a best, and reason has no manners

  To say it is not you. I was acquainted

  Once with a time when I enjoyed a playfellow; 50

  You were at wars when she the grave enriched,

  Who made too proud the bed; took leave o’th’ moon —

  Which then looked pale at parting — when our count

  Was each eleven.

  Hipp. ’Twas Flavina.

  Emi. Yes.

  You talk of Pirithous’ and Theseus’ love: 55

  Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasoned,

  More buckled with strong judgement, and their needs

  The one of th’other may be said to water

  Their intertangled roots of love; but I

  And she I sigh and spoke of were things innocent, 60

  Loved for we did, and like the elements,

  That know not what, nor why, yet do effect

  Rare issues by their operance, our souls

  Did so to one another. What she liked