The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (703 page)

Before the Temples of Mars, Venus, and Diana.

(Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, Attendants, Palamon, Arcite, Knights, Emilia)

Three altars erected—to Mars, Venus, and Diana. 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;

They have a noble work in hand will honor

The very powers that love ’em.

Now let them come in, and offer their holy prayers

to the gods. Let the temples

burn bright with sacred fires, and let the altars

offer their billowing clouds of sacred incense

to those above us. Make sure all proper ceremony is done;

they are performing a noble task which will honour

the gods who love them.

Flourish of cornets. Enter Palamon and Arcite and their Knights.

PIRITHOUS

Sir, they enter.

Sir, here they come.

THESEUS

You valiant and strong-hearted enemies,

You royal germane 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-fear’d 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.

You brave and strong hearted enemies,

you royal related foes, this day has come

which destroys the closeness between you,

but put aside your anger for an hour, and peacefully,

in front of the holy altars of your helpers,

the gods that all fear, bow down your stubborn bodies.

Your anger is more than mortal, so your help will be the same;

fight fairly, as the gods are watching you.

I'll leave you to your prayers, and you both

have my good wishes equally.

PIRITHOUS

Honor crown the worthiest!

May the best man win!

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

Mine enemy in this business, were’t one eye

Against another, arm oppress’d by arm,

I would destroy th’ offender, coz, I would,

Though parcel of myself. Then from this gather

How I should tender you.

The clock is now ticking and it cannot stop

until one of us is dead. Please note this,

that if anything within me tried to

fight against me in this business, if my eyes

fought each other, my arms wrestled each other,

I would destroy that thing, cousin, I would,

even though it was part of myself. So you must see

how I must treat you.

ARCITE

I am in labor

To push your name, your ancient love, our kindred,

Out of my memory; and i’ th’ self-same place

To seat something I would confound. So hoist we

The sails that must these vessels port even where

The heavenly limiter pleases.

I'm doing my best

to forget your name, our long-lasting love, and relationship;

in the same place I'm going to make you something

I will destroy. So we begin our journey

and leave it to the gods to see where it ends.

PALAMON

You speak well.

Before I turn, let me embrace thee, cousin.

They embrace.

This I shall never do again.

Well said.

Before I turn away, let me embrace you, cousin.

I shall never do this again.

ARCITE

One farewell.

Let's wish each other farewell.

PALAMON

Why, let it be so; farewell, coz.

Let it be; farewell, cousin.

ARCITE

Farewell, sir.

Exeunt Palamon and his Knights.

Knights, kinsmen, lovers, yea, my sacrifices,

True worshippers of Mars, whose spirit in you

Expels the seeds of fear, and th’ apprehension

Which still is farther off 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 dragg’d out of blood; force and great feat

Must put my garland on, where she sticks

The queen of flowers. Our intercession then

Must be to him that makes the camp a cestron

Brimm’d with the blood of men. Give me your aid

And bend your spirits towards him.

They advance to the altar of Mars and fall on their faces; then kneel.

Thou mighty one, that with thy power hast turn’d

Green Neptune into purple; whose approach

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 mason’d 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 styl’d 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 armor, 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.—Let us go.

Farewell, sir.

Knights, kinsmen, lovers, yes, my sacrifices,

true worshippers of Mars, whose spirit

drives fear out of you, and the dread

which inspires it, come with me

before the god of our profession.

Ask him for the hearts of lions and

the breath of tigers, yes, the fierceness too,

and the speed–to go forward, I mean,

otherwise ask that we can be snails. You know my prize

can only be won with bloodshed; strength and skill

must bring me the victor's crown of flowers.

So we must pray to the one who makes the battlefield

a tank brimming with men's blood. Help me

by offering your prayers to him.

You mighty one, whose power has turned

the green sea into purple; whose coming

is foretold by comets, whose chaos on the battlefield

is shown by discovered skulls, whose breath blows down

the growing crops, who reaches out with his

powerful armoured hand from the blue clouds

and pulls down the brick castles, makes and breaks

the stone walls of cities: teach me today, your pupil,

the youngest of your followers, to have

military skill, so that I can praise you

by raising my flag when I am crowned

victorious by you. Give me, great Mars,

some sign of your approval.

Oh great corrector of disordered times,

punisher of corrupt states, you great arbitrator

of ancient titles, who heals the Earth with blood

when it is sick, and rids the world of its

superfluous population! I take your

sign as offering good luck, and I march boldly

to fulfil my plans in your name.–Let us go.

Exeunt.

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,

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 advance to the altar of Venus, and fall on their faces; then 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

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 poll’d bachelor,

Whose youth, like wanton boys through bonfires,

Have skipp’d 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 vow’d 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-mouth’d against thy law,

Nev’r reveal’d secret, for I knew none—would not,

Had I kenn’d all that were. I never practiced

Upon man’s wife, nor would the libels read

Of liberal wits. I never at great feasts

Sought to betray a beauty, but have blush’d

At simp’ring sirs that did. I have been harsh

To large confessors, and have hotly ask’d them

If they had mothers; I had one, a woman,

And women ’twere they wrong’d. I knew a man