SCENE IV. A field before Thebes.

Cornets. A battle struck within; then a retreat. Flourish. Then enter, Theseus, as victor, with a Herald, other Lords, and Soldiers. The three Queens meet him and fall on their faces before him.

FIRST QUEEN. To thee no star be dark!

SECOND QUEEN. Both heaven and earth Friend thee for ever!

THIRD QUEEN. All the good that may Be wished upon thy head, I cry “Amen” to ’t!

THESEUS. Th’ impartial gods, who from the mounted heavens View us their mortal herd, behold who err And, in their time, chastise. Go and find out The bones of your dead lords and honour them With treble ceremony, rather than a gap Should be in their dear rites, we would supply ’t, But those we will depute which shall invest You in your dignities and even each thing Our haste does leave imperfect. So, adieu, And heaven’s good eyes look on you.

[ Exeunt Queens. ]

Enter a Herald and Soldiers bearing Palamon and Arcite on hearses.

What are those?

HERALD. Men of great quality, as may be judged By their appointment. Some of Thebes have told ’s They are sisters’ children, nephews to the King.

THESEUS. By th’ helm of Mars, I saw them in the war, Like to a pair of lions, smeared with prey, Make lanes in troops aghast. I fixed my note Constantly on them, for they were a mark Worth a god’s view. What prisoner was ’t that told me When I enquired their names?

HERALD. Wi’ leave, they’re called Arcite and Palamon.

THESEUS. ’Tis right; those, those. They are not dead?

HERALD. Nor in a state of life. Had they been taken When their last hurts were given, ’twas possible They might have been recovered; yet they breathe And have the name of men.

THESEUS. Then like men use ’em. The very lees of such, millions of rates, Exceed the wine of others. All our surgeons Convent in their behoof; our richest balms, Rather than niggard, waste. Their lives concern us Much more than Thebes is worth. Rather than have ’em Freed of this plight, and in their morning state, Sound and at liberty, I would ’em dead; But forty-thousandfold we had rather have ’em Prisoners to us than death. Bear ’em speedily From our kind air, to them unkind, and minister What man to man may do, for our sake, more, Since I have known frights, fury, friends’ behests, Love’s provocations, zeal, a mistress’ task, Desire of liberty, a fever, madness, Hath set a mark which nature could not reach to Without some imposition, sickness in will O’er-wrestling strength in reason. For our love And great Apollo’s mercy, all our best Their best skill tender. Lead into the city, Where, having bound things scattered, we will post To Athens ’fore our army.

[ Flourish. Exeunt. ]