The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (709 page)

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.

 

Listen then: your cousin,

riding a horse that Emily

had given him–a black one, without

a single white hair, which some would say

makes it less valuable, and many wouldn't accept

his goodness because of it; this superstition

is confirmed by this–on this horse Arcite

was riding through Athens, its hooves

just touching stones rather than trampling them, for the horse

could stride a mile in a pace, if his rider was prepared

to put trust in him. As he went forward over

the stony pavement, as if he were dancing to the music

his own hooves made (for they say that music

originates in iron), some malevolent flint,

as cold as old Saturn, and like him filled

with evil fire, made a spark,

or some other piece of hellfire caused it,

I can't say–the passionate horse, passionate as fire,

shied at this, and became as out-of-control

as his power would allow, leaping, bucking,

forgetting his schooling, as he had been trained,

becoming unmanageable; he whined like a pig

at the feel of the spurs, which made him worse

rather than making him obey; he tried all the dirty ways

of rowdy and rough horses, to throw off

his lord, who stuck bravely to the saddle. When nothing worked,

when the bit wouldn't crack, the girth break, and the

different leaps couldn't throw off his rider, who

still stayed in the saddle, he stood up

on his hind hoofs,

so that Arcite's legs, being higher than his head,

seemed to hang as if by magic. His victor's wreath

fell off his head; and at once

the horse fell over backwards, and his full weight

landed on the rider. He is still alive,

but only like a ship that still floats until

the next wave comes. He very much wants

to talk with you. Look, here he comes.

 

 

Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, Arcite in a chair.

 

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.

 

What a miserable end to our friendship!

The gods are mighty, Arcite. If your heart,

your worthy, manly heart, be still working,

give me your last words; I am Palamon,

one who loves you still even in death.

 

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.—’Tis done.

Take her. I die.

 

Take Emilia,

and with her all the happiness in the world. Give me your hand;

Farewell. I have seen my last hour; I was wrong,

but never treacherous. Forgive me, cousin.

One kiss from lovely Emilia.–It's done.

Take her. I'm dying.

 

Dies.

 

PALAMON

Thy brave soul seek Elysium!

 

May your brave soul find Elysium!

 

EMILIA

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.

 

I'll close your eyes, prince; may you go to the blessed souls!

You are truly a good man, and for my whole life

I will commemorate this day with tears.

 

PALAMON

And I to honor.

 

And I with honour.

 

THESEUS

In this place first you fought; ev’n very here

I sund’red you. Acknowledge to the gods

Our thanks that you are living.

His part is play’d, and though it were too short,

He did it well; your day is length’ned, and

The blissful dew of heaven does arrouse you.

The powerful Venus well hath grac’d her altar,

And given you your love. Our master Mars

Hath vouch’d his oracle, and to Arcite gave

The grace of the contention So the deities

Have show’d due justice.—Bear this hence.

 

This is where you first fought; the very place

where I parted you. Give the gods

thanks that you are alive.

He's played his part, and though it was too short,

he did it well; your time has been extended, and

the blessed dew of heaven falls on you.

Powerful Venus has shone her light on her altar

and given you your love. Our master Mars

has fulfilled his promise, and given Arcite

the victory. So the gods

have shown fair justice.–Carry this away.

 

Arcite is carried out.

 

PALAMON

O cousin,

That we should things desire which do cost us

The loss of our desire! That nought could buy

Dear love but loss of dear love!

 

O cousin,

why did we have to desire things which cost us

things we desired! Why could nothing buy

dear love except for losing dear love!

 

THESEUS

Never fortune

Did play a subtler game. The conquer’d triumphs,

The victor has the loss; yet in the passage

The gods have been most equal. Palamon,

Your kinsman hath confess’d the right o’ th’ lady

Did lie in you, for you first saw her, and

Even then proclaim’d your fancy. He restor’d her

As your stol’n jewel, and desir’d your spirit

To send him hence forgiven. The gods my justice

Take from my hand, and they themselves become

The executioners. Lead your lady off;

And call your lovers from the stage of death,

Whom I adopt my friends. A day or two

Let us look sadly, and give grace unto

The funeral of Arcite, in whose end

The visages of bridegrooms we’ll put on

And smile with Palamon; for whom an hour,

But one hour since, I was as dearly sorry

As glad of Arcite; and am now as glad

As for him sorry. O you heavenly charmers,

What things you make of us! For what we lack

We laugh, for what we have are sorry, still

Are children in some kind. Let us be thankful

For that which is, and with you leave dispute

That are above our question. Let’s go off,

And bear us like the time.

 

Fate never

played a more cunning game. The loser wins,

the winner loses; but the gods have still been

perfectly fair. Palamon,

your kinsman admitted that you had

the rights to the lady, for you saw her first, and

declared your love at the time. He gave her

back to you as your stolen jewel, and asked you

to send him away forgiven. The gods have taken

my powers of justice out of my hand, and they have become

the executioners themselves. Take your lady away;

and call your followers off the scaffold,

they are now my friends. Let us mourn

for a day or two, and honour the

funeral of Arcite, and at the end of that

we'll assume the faces of bridegrooms

and smile with Palamon; for whom

just an hour ago I was as sorry to have lost

as I was glad to have Arcite; and now I am as glad

to have him as I am sorry for Arcite. Oh you gods,

what things you make of us! We love things

we don't have, don't like what we have, we're still

like children in some ways. Let us be thankful

for the way things are, and leave you to decide

things that are beyond us. Let us go,

and make the most of our time.

 

Flourish. Exeunt.

 

(Epilogue)

 

EPILOGUE

I would now ask ye how ye like the play,

But as it is with schoolboys, cannot say;

I am cruel fearful. Pray yet stay a while,

And let me look upon ye. No man smile?

Then it goes hard, I see. He that has

Lov’d a young handsome wench then, show his face—

’Tis strange if none be here—and if he will

Against his conscience, let him hiss, and kill

Our market. ’Tis in vain, I see, to stay ye;

Have at the worst can come, then! Now what say ye?

And yet mistake me not: I am not bold,

We have no such cause. If the tale we have told

(For ’tis no other) any way content ye

(For to that honest purpose it was meant ye),

We have our end; and ye shall have ere long

I dare say many a better, to prolong

Your old loves to us. We, and all our might,

Rest at your service. Gentlemen, good night.

 

I would ask you now how you like the play,

but I'm like a schoolboy, I can't ask;

I am very afraid. Please stay awhile,

and let me look at you. Is nobody smiling?

Then you don't like it, I see. If anyone here

has loved a handsome young girl, show his face–

it would be strange if there were none–and if he

wants to be a hypocrite, let him hiss, and ruin

our ticket sales. I can see there's no point in trying to stop you;

give it your worst then! Now what do you say?

And yet don't misunderstand me: I am not angry,

we have no reason to be. If the story we have told

(for it's just a story) has pleased you in any way

(for that was what we were trying to do),

we have our reward; and I daresay before long

you will see many better plays, and that will make you

remain as our patrons. We, and all our strength,

are at your service. Gentlemen, good night.

 

Flourish.

 

 

 

  

 

 

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