William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (596 page)
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Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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Another cry and shout within and cornetts
On the sinister side the heart lies—Palamon
Had the best-boding chance. This burst of clamour
Is sure the end o’th’ combat.
Had the best-boding chance. This burst of clamour
Is sure the end o’th’ combat.
Enter Servant
SERVANT
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.
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.
EMILIA
Were they metamorphosed
Both into one! O why? There were no woman
Worth so composed a man: their single share,
Their nobleness peculiar to them, gives
The prejudice of disparity, value’s shortness,
To any lady breathing—
Both into one! O why? There were no woman
Worth so composed a man: their single share,
Their nobleness peculiar to them, gives
The prejudice of disparity, value’s shortness,
To any lady breathing—
Cornetts. Cry within, ‘Arcite, Arcite
’
More exulting?
‘Palamon’ still?
SERVANT
Nay, now the sound is ‘Arcite’.
EMILIA
I prithee, lay attention to the cry.
Cornetts. A great shout and cry, ‘Arcite, victory!’
Set both thine ears to th’ business.
SERVANT
The cry is
‘Arcite’ and ‘Victory’—hark, ‘Arcite, victory!’
The combat’s consummation is proclaimed
By the wind instruments.
‘Arcite’ and ‘Victory’—hark, ‘Arcite, victory!’
The combat’s consummation is proclaimed
By the wind instruments.
EMILIA
Half sights saw
That Arcite was no babe. God’s lid, his richness
And costliness of spirit looked 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.
That Arcite was no babe. God’s lid, his richness
And costliness of spirit looked 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.
She puts away the pictures.
Cornetts. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous,
Arcite as victor, and attendants
THESEUS
Lo, where our sister is in expectation,
Yet quaking and unsettled. Fairest Emily,
The gods by their divine arbitrament
Have given you this knight. He is a good one
As ever struck at head. ⌈
To
Arcite and
Emilia
⌉ Give me
your hands.
(To Arcite)
Receive you her, (to Emilia) you him: (to
both) be plighted with
A love that grows as you decay.
Yet quaking and unsettled. Fairest Emily,
The gods by their divine arbitrament
Have given you this knight. He is a good one
As ever struck at head. ⌈
To
Arcite and
Emilia
⌉ Give me
your hands.
(To Arcite)
Receive you her, (to Emilia) you him: (to
both) be plighted with
A love that grows as you decay.
ARCITE
Emilia,
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.
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.
THESEUS (to Emilia)
O lovèd 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 behaviour
So charmed 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,
Encountered 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 fared
Good space between these kinsmen, till heavens did
Make hardly one the winner. (
To Arcite
) Wear the
garland
With joy that you have won.—For the subdued,
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. (
To Arcite
) Arm your
prize;
I know you will not lose her. Hippolyta,
I see one eye of yours conceives a tear,
The which it will deliver.
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 behaviour
So charmed 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,
Encountered 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 fared
Good space between these kinsmen, till heavens did
Make hardly one the winner. (
To Arcite
) Wear the
garland
With joy that you have won.—For the subdued,
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. (
To Arcite
) Arm your
prize;
I know you will not lose her. Hippolyta,
I see one eye of yours conceives a tear,
The which it will deliver.
Flourish
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.
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.
HFPPOLYTA
Infinite pity
That four such eyes should be so fixed on one
That two must needs be blind for’t.
That four such eyes should be so fixed on one
That two must needs be blind for’t.
THESEUS So it is.
Exeunt
5.6Enter
,
guarded, Palamon and his three Knights pinioned; enter with them the Jailer and an executioner with block and axe
PALAMON
There’s many a man alive that hath outlived
The love o’th’ people; yea, i’th’ selfsame state
Stands many a father with his child: some comfort
We have by so considering. We expire,
And not without men’s pity; to live still,
Have their good wishes. We prevent
The loathsome misery of age, beguile
The gout and rheum that in lag hours attend
For grey approachers; we come towards the gods
Young and unwappered, not halting under crimes
Many and state—that sure shall please the gods
Sooner than such, to give us nectar with ’em,
For we are more clear spirits. My dear kinsmen,
Whose lives for this poor comfort are laid down,
You have sold ’em too too cheap.
The love o’th’ people; yea, i’th’ selfsame state
Stands many a father with his child: some comfort
We have by so considering. We expire,
And not without men’s pity; to live still,
Have their good wishes. We prevent
The loathsome misery of age, beguile
The gout and rheum that in lag hours attend
For grey approachers; we come towards the gods
Young and unwappered, not halting under crimes
Many and state—that sure shall please the gods
Sooner than such, to give us nectar with ’em,
For we are more clear spirits. My dear kinsmen,
Whose lives for this poor comfort are laid down,
You have sold ’em too too cheap.
FIRST KNIGHT
What ending could be
Of more content? O’er us the victors have
Fortune, whose title is as momentary
As to us death is certain—a grain of honour
They not o’erweigh us.
Of more content? O’er us the victors have
Fortune, whose title is as momentary
As to us death is certain—a grain of honour
They not o’erweigh us.
SECOND KNIGHT
Let us bid farewell, And with our patience anger tott’ring fortune,
Who at her certain’st reels.
Who at her certain’st reels.
THIRD KNIGHT Come, who begins?
PALAMON
E’en he that led you to this banquet shall
Taste to you all. (
To the
jailer
) Aha, my friend, my
friend,
Your gentle daughter gave me freedom once;
You’ll see’t done now for ever. Pray, how does she?
I heard she was not well; her kind of ill
Gave me some sorrow.
Taste to you all. (
To the
jailer
) Aha, my friend, my
friend,
Your gentle daughter gave me freedom once;
You’ll see’t done now for ever. Pray, how does she?
I heard she was not well; her kind of ill
Gave me some sorrow.
JAILER
Sir, she’s well restored
And to be married shortly.
And to be married shortly.
PALAMON
By my short life,
I am most glad on’t. ’Tis the latest thing
I shall be glad of. Prithee, tell her so;
Commend me to her, and to piece her portion
Tender her this.
I am most glad on’t. ’Tis the latest thing
I shall be glad of. Prithee, tell her so;
Commend me to her, and to piece her portion
Tender her this.
He gives his purse
FIRST KNIGHT
Nay, let’s be offerers all.
SECOND KNIGHT
Is it a maid?
PALAMON
Verily, I think so—
A right good creature more to me deserving
Than I can quit or speak of.
A right good creature more to me deserving
Than I can quit or speak of.
ALL THREE KNIGHTS Commend us to her.
They give their purses
JAILER
The gods requite you all, and make her thankful.
PALAMON
Adieu, and let my life be now as short
As my leave-taking.
As my leave-taking.
He lies on the block
FIRST KNIGHT
Lead, courageous cousin.
SECOND and THIRD KNIGHTS We’ll follow cheerfully.
A great noise within: crying, ‘Run! Save! Hold!’
Enter in haste a Messenger
MESSENGER Hold! Hold! O, hold! Hold! Hold!
Enter Pirithous in haste
PIRITHOUS
Hold, ho! It is a cursèd haste you made
If you have done so quickly! Noble Palamon,
The gods will show their glory in a life
That thou art yet to lead.
If you have done so quickly! Noble Palamon,
The gods will show their glory in a life
That thou art yet to lead.
PALAMON
Can that be,
When Venus, I have said, is false? How do things
fare?
When Venus, I have said, is false? How do things
fare?
PIRITHOUS
Arise, great sir, and give the tidings ear
That are most rarely sweet and bitter.
That are most rarely sweet and bitter.
PALAMON
What
Hath waked us from our dream?
Hath waked us from our dream?
PIRITHOUS
List, then: your cousin,
Mounted upon a steed that Emily
Did first bestow on him, a black one owing
Not a hair-worth of white—which some will say
Weakens his price and many will not buy
His goodness with this note; which superstition
Here finds allowance—on this horse is Arcite
Trotting the stones of Athens, which the calkins
Did rather tell than trample; for the horse
Would make his length a mile, if’t pleased his rider
To put pride in him. As he thus went counting
The flinty pavement, dancing, as ‘twere, to th’ music
His own hooves made—for, as they say, from iron
Came music’s origin—what envious flint,
Cold as old Saturn and like him possessed
With fire malevolent, darted a spark,
Or what fierce sulphur else, to this end made,
I comment not—the hot horse, hot as fire,
Took toy at this and fell to what disorder
His power could give his will; bounds; comes on end;
Forgets school-doing, being therein trained
And of kind manège; pig-like he whines
At the sharp rowel, which he frets at rather
Than any jot obeys; seeks all foul means
Of boist’rous and rough jad’ry to disseat
His lord, that kept it bravely. When naught served,
When neither curb would crack, girth break, nor
diff’ring plunges
Disroot his rider whence he grew, but that
He kept him ‘tween his legs, on his hind hooves—
On end he stands—
That Arcite’s legs, being higher than his head,
Seemed with strange art to hang. His victor’s wreath
Even then fell off his head; and presently
Backward the jade comes o’er and his full poise
Becomes the rider’s load. Yet is he living;
But such a vessel ’tis that floats but for
The surge that next approaches. He much desires
To have some speech with you—lo, he appears.
Mounted upon a steed that Emily
Did first bestow on him, a black one owing
Not a hair-worth of white—which some will say
Weakens his price and many will not buy
His goodness with this note; which superstition
Here finds allowance—on this horse is Arcite
Trotting the stones of Athens, which the calkins
Did rather tell than trample; for the horse
Would make his length a mile, if’t pleased his rider
To put pride in him. As he thus went counting
The flinty pavement, dancing, as ‘twere, to th’ music
His own hooves made—for, as they say, from iron
Came music’s origin—what envious flint,
Cold as old Saturn and like him possessed
With fire malevolent, darted a spark,
Or what fierce sulphur else, to this end made,
I comment not—the hot horse, hot as fire,
Took toy at this and fell to what disorder
His power could give his will; bounds; comes on end;
Forgets school-doing, being therein trained
And of kind manège; pig-like he whines
At the sharp rowel, which he frets at rather
Than any jot obeys; seeks all foul means
Of boist’rous and rough jad’ry to disseat
His lord, that kept it bravely. When naught served,
When neither curb would crack, girth break, nor
diff’ring plunges
Disroot his rider whence he grew, but that
He kept him ‘tween his legs, on his hind hooves—
On end he stands—
That Arcite’s legs, being higher than his head,
Seemed with strange art to hang. His victor’s wreath
Even then fell off his head; and presently
Backward the jade comes o’er and his full poise
Becomes the rider’s load. Yet is he living;
But such a vessel ’tis that floats but for
The surge that next approaches. He much desires
To have some speech with you—lo, he appears.
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, and Arcite in a chair borne by attendants
PALAMON
O miserable end of our alliance!
The gods are mighty. Arcite, if thy heart,
Thy worthy manly heart, be yet unbroken,
Give me thy last words. I am Palamon,
One that yet loves thee dying.
The gods are mighty. Arcite, if thy heart,
Thy worthy manly heart, be yet unbroken,
Give me thy last words. I am Palamon,
One that yet loves thee dying.
ARCITE
Take Emilia,
And with her all the world’s joy. Reach thy hand—
Farewell—I have told my last hour. I was false,
Yet never treacherous. Forgive me, cousin—
One kiss from fair Emilia—(
they kiss
) ’tis done.
Take her; I die.
And with her all the world’s joy. Reach thy hand—
Farewell—I have told my last hour. I was false,
Yet never treacherous. Forgive me, cousin—
One kiss from fair Emilia—(
they kiss
) ’tis done.
Take her; I die.
He dies
PALAMON
Thy brave soul seek Elysium.
EMILIA (
to Arcite’s body)
to Arcite’s body)
I’ll close thine eyes, Prince. Blessed souls be with thee.
Thou art a right good man, and, while I live,
This day I give to tears.
Thou art a right good man, and, while I live,
This day I give to tears.
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