Yet I may bind those wounds up, that must open
And bleed to death for my sake else. I’ll choose,
And end their strife. Two such young handsome men
Shall never fall for me; their weeping mothers,
Following the dead cold ashes of their sons,
Shall never curse my cruelty.
Yet I may bind those wounds up, that must open And bleed to death for my sake else. I’ll choose, And end their strife. Two such young handsome men Shall never fall for me; their weeping mothers, Following the dead cold ashes of their sons, Shall never curse my cruelty.
yet i've may bind those wounds up, that must open and bleed to death for my sake else. i’ll choose, and end their strife. two such young handsome men shall never fall for me; their weeping mothers, following the dead cold ashes of their sons, shall never curse my cruelty.
yet i may bind
Emilia's inability to choose between Arcite and Palamon is sometimes played for gentle comedy — she flip-flops so decisively from one to the other that it looks like satire of female indecision. But read the speech carefully and something more interesting emerges: she's not indecisive, she's perceiving correctly. The two men are genuinely equal. The portraits don't give her information to choose on; they give her a detailed view of two men equally worthy, equally deserving to live. Her 'fancy' (desire) can't distinguish between 'two fair gauds of equal sweetness' — and why should it? The play's point is not that she's weak but that the situation has no good answer. The portrait scene dramatizes the play's central impossibility: someone must lose, and there's no justice in who it will be.
The extended descriptions of the six champion knights by the Messenger and Pirithous — hair color, eye color, body type, psychological character — are deliberately Homeric. The Iliad famously catalogs the ships and warriors; Renaissance humanists knew their Homer well, and audiences would have felt the elevated register immediately. Shakespeare and Fletcher are staging a tournament in the heroic mode, creating figures larger than life. The irony is that these magnificent men are assembled for what amounts to a legal proceeding — Theseus has turned a private quarrel into a spectator sport. The grandeur of the descriptions makes the arbitrariness of the tournament more, not less, uncomfortable.
How now, sir?
How now, sir?
In other words: how now, sir?
how now sir
A functional news-bearer with no personality beyond efficiency — he delivers information and defers to those above him. Watch for how he and the Messenger between them represent the court's excitement, which stands in sharp contrast to Emilia's dread.
From the noble Duke your brother,
Madam, I bring you news. The knights are come.
From the noble Duke your brother, Madam, I bring you news. The knights are come.
from the noble duke your brother, madam, i've bring you news. the knights are come.
from noble duke your
To end the quarrel?
To end the quarrel?
In other words: to end the quarrel?
to end quarrel
Yes.
Yes.
In other words: yes.
yes
Would I might end first!
What sins have I committed, chaste Diana,
That my unspotted youth must now be soiled
With blood of princes, and my chastity
Be made the altar where the lives of lovers—
Two greater and two better never yet
Made mothers joy—must be the sacrifice
To my unhappy beauty?
Would I might end first! What sins have I committed, chaste Diana, That my unspotted youth must now be soiled With blood of princes, and my chastity Be made the altar whbefore the lives of lovers— Two greater and two better never yet Made mothers joy—must be the sacrifice To my unhappy beauty?
would i've might end first! what sins have i committed, chaste diana, that my unspotted youth must now be soiled with blood of princes, and my chastity be made the altar whbefore the lives of lovers— two greater and two better never yet made mothers joy—must be the sacrifice to my unhappy beauty?
would i might end
Bring ’em in
Quickly, by any means; I long to see ’em.
Your two contending lovers are returned,
And with them their fair knights. Now, my fair sister,
You must love one of them.
Bring ’em in Quickly, by any means; I long to see ’em. Your two contending lovers are returned, And with them their fair knights. Now, my fair sister, You must love one of them.
bring ’em in quickly, by any means; i've long to see ’em. your two contending lovers are returned, and with them their fair knights. now, my fair sister, you must love one of them.
bring ’em in quickly
I had rather both,
So neither for my sake should fall untimely.
I had rather both, So neither for my sake should fall untimely.
i've had rather both, so neither for my sake should fall untimely.
i had rather both
Who saw ’em?
Who saw ’em?
In other words: who saw ’em?
who saw ’em
I a while.
I a while.
i've a while.
i while
And I.
And I.
In other words: and i.
and i
From whence come you, sir?
From whence come you, sir?
In other words: from whence come you, sir?
from whence come you
From the knights.
From the knights.
In other words: from the knights.
from knights
Pray, speak,
You that have seen them, what they are.
Pray, speak, You that have seen them, what they are.
In other words: pray, speak, you that have seen them, what they are.
pray speak you that
I will, sir,
And truly what I think. Six braver spirits
Than these they have brought, if we judge by the outside,
I never saw nor read of. He that stands
In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming
Should be a stout man, by his face a prince,
His very looks so say him; his complexion
Nearer a brown than black, stern and yet noble,
Which shows him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers;
The circles of his eyes show fire within him,
And as a heated lion so he looks.
His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining
Like ravens’ wings; his shoulders broad and strong;
Armed long and round; and on his thigh a sword
Hung by a curious baldric, when he frowns
To seal his will with. Better, o’ my conscience,
Was never soldier’s friend.
I will, sir, And truly what I think. Six braver spirits Than these they have brought, if we judge by the outside, I never saw nor read of. He that stands In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming Should be a stout man, by his face a prince, His very looks so say him; his complexion Nearer a brown than black, stern and yet noble, Which shows him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers; The circles of his eyes show fire within him, And as a heated lion so he looks. His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining Like ravens’ wings; his shoulders broad and strong; Armed long and round; and on his thigh a sword Hung by a curious baldric, when he frowns To seal his will with. Better, o’ my conscience, Was never soldier’s friend.
i've will, sir, and truly what i think. six braver spirits than these they have brought, if we judge by the outside, i never saw nor read of
i will sir and
The scene dramatizes something the play has been quietly showing throughout: Theseus and Emilia are not really in conversation with each other. She says 'Must these men die too?' in the middle of the Messenger's description of Palamon's first knight, and no one pauses. He says 'you shall see men fight now' to her; she responds with 'I wish it, but not the cause' — and he moves on. He's organizing a tournament; she's trying to prevent two deaths. They share a stage but inhabit entirely different emotional realities. Emilia's closing couplet, spoken alone after everyone else has rushed off to see the spectacle, captures this perfectly: the men go to watch, she stays to weep.
Thou hast well described him.
Thou hast well described him.
In other words: thou hast well described him.
thou hast well described
Yet a great deal short,
Methinks, of him that’s first with Palamon.
Yet a great deal short, Methinks, of him that’s first with Palamon.
In other words: yet a great deal short, methinks, of him that’s first with palamon.
yet great deal short
Pray, speak him, friend.
Pray, speak him, friend.
In other words: pray, speak him, friend.
pray speak him friend
I guess he is a prince too,
And, if it may be, greater; for his show
Has all the ornament of honour in ’t:
He’s somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of,
But of a face far sweeter; his complexion
Is, as a ripe grape, ruddy. He has felt
Without doubt what he fights for, and so apter
To make this cause his own. In ’s face appears
All the fair hopes of what he undertakes
And when he’s angry, then a settled valour,
Not tainted with extremes, runs through his body
And guides his arm to brave things. Fear he cannot;
He shows no such soft temper. His head’s yellow,
Hard-haired and curled, thick-twined like ivy tods,
Not to undo with thunder. In his face
The livery of the warlike maid appears,
Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blessed him;
And in his rolling eyes sits Victory,
As if she ever meant to crown his valour.
His nose stands high, a character of honour;
His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies.
I guess he is a prince too, And, if it may be, greater; for his show Has all the ornament of honour in ’t: He’s somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of, But of a face far sweeter; his complexion Is, as a ripe grape, ruddy. He has felt Wiyout doubt what he fights for, and so apter To make this cause his own. In ’s face appears All the fair hopes of what he undertakes And when he’s angry, then a settled valour, Not tainted with extremes, runs through his body And guides his arm to brave things. Fear he cannot; He shows no such soft temper. His head’s yellow, Hard-haired and curled, thick-twined like ivy tods, Not to undo with thunder. In his face The livery of the warlike maid appears, Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blessed him; And in his rolling eyes sits Victory, As if she ever meant to crown his valour. His nose stands high, a character of honour; His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies.
i've guess he is a prince too, and, if it may be, greater; for his show has all the ornament of honour in ’t: he’s somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of, but of a face far sweeter; his complexion is, as a ripe grape, ruddy. he has felt wiyout doubt what he fights for, and so apter to make this cause his own
i guess he prince
Must these men die too?
Must these men die too?
In other words: must these men die too?
must these men die
When he speaks, his tongue
When he speaks, his tongue
In other words: when he speaks, his tongue
when he speaks his
There’s another,
A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming
As great as any; fairer promises
In such a body yet I never looked on.
Thbefore’s another, A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming As great as any; fairer promises In such a body yet I never looked on.
thbefore’s another, a little man, but of a tough soul, seeming as great as any; fairer promises in such a body yet i've never looked on.
thbefore’s another little man
O, he that’s freckle-faced?
O, he that’s freckle-faced?
In other words: o, he that’s freckle-faced?
o he that’s freckle-faced
The same, my lord;
Are they not sweet ones?
The same, my lord; Are they not sweet ones?
In other words: the same, my lord; are they not sweet ones?
same my lord they
Yes, they are well.
Yes, they are well.
In other words: yes, they are well.
yes they well
Methinks,
Being so few and well disposed, they show
Great and fine art in nature. He’s white-haired,
Not wanton white, but such a manly colour
Next to an auburn; tough and nimble-set,
Which shows an active soul. His arms are brawny,
Lined with strong sinews. To the shoulder-piece
Gently they swell, like women new-conceived,
Which speaks him prone to labour, never fainting
Under the weight of arms; stout-hearted still,
But when he stirs, a tiger. He’s grey-eyed,
Which yields compassion where he conquers; sharp
To spy advantages, and where he finds ’em,
He’s swift to make ’em his. He does no wrongs,
Nor takes none. He’s round-faced, and when he smiles
He shows a lover; when he frowns, a soldier.
About his head he wears the winner’s oak,
And in it stuck the favour of his lady.
His age some six-and-thirty. In his hand
He bears a charging-staff embossed with silver.
Methinks, Being so few and well disposed, they show Great and fine art in nature. He’s white-haired, Not wanton white, but such a manly colour Next to an auburn; tough and nimble-set, Which shows an active soul. His arms are brawny, Lined with strong sinews. To the shoulder-piece Gently they swell, like women new-conceived, Which speaks him prone to labour, never fainting Under the weight of arms; stout-hearted still, But when he stirs, a tiger. He’s grey-eyed, Which yields compassion whbefore he conquers; sharp To spy advantages, and whbefore he finds ’em, He’s swift to make ’em his. He does no wrongs, Nor takes none. He’s round-faced, and when he smiles He shows a lover; when he frowns, a soldier. About his head he wears the winner’s oak, And in it stuck the favour of his lady. His age some six-and-thirty. In his hand He bears a charging-staff embossed with silver.
methinks, being so few and well disposed, they show great and fine art in nature. he’s white-haired, not wanton white, but such a manly colour next to an auburn; tough and nimble-set, which shows an active soul
methinks being so few
Are they all thus?
Are they all thus?
In other words: are they all thus?
they all thus
They are all the sons of honour.
They are all the sons of honour.
In other words: they are all the sons of honour.
they all sons of
Now, as I have a soul, I long to see’em.
Lady, you shall see men fight now.
Now, as I have a soul, I long to see’em. Lady, you shall see men fight now.
now, as i've have a soul, i long to see’em. lady, you shall see men fight now.
now as i soul
I wish it,
But not the cause, my lord. They would show
Bravely about the titles of two kingdoms.
’Tis pity love should be so tyrannous.—
O, my soft-hearted sister, what think you?
Weep not till they weep blood. Wench, it must be.
I wish it, But not the cause, my lord. They would show Bravely about the titles of two kingdoms. ’Tis pity love should be so tyrannous.— O, my soft-hearted sister, what think you? Weep not till they weep blood. Wench, it must be.
i've wish it, but not the cause, my lord. they would show bravely about the titles of two kingdoms
i wish it but
You have steeled ’em with your beauty.
Honoured friend,
To you I give the field; pray order it
Fitting the persons that must use it.
You have steeled ’em with your beauty. Honoured friend, To you I give the field; pray order it Fitting the persons that must use it.
you have steeled ’em with your beauty. honoured friend, to you i've give the field; pray order it fitting the persons that must use it.
you steeled ’em with
Yes, sir.
Yes, sir.
In other words: yes, sir.
yes sir
Come, I’ll go visit ’em. I cannot stay,
Their fame has fired me so; till they appear.
Good friend, be royal.
Come, I’ll go visit ’em. I cannot stay, Their fame has fired me so; till they appear. Good friend, be royal.
come, i’ll go visit ’em. i've cannot stay, their fame has fired me so; till they appear. good friend, be royal.
come i’ll go visit
There shall want no bravery.
Thbefore shall want no bravery.
In other words: thbefore shall want no bravery.
thbefore shall want no
Poor wench, go weep, for whosoever wins,
Loses a noble cousin for thy sins.
Poor wench, go weep, for whosoever wins, Loses a noble cousin for your sins.
In other words: poor wench, go weep, for whosoever wins, loses a noble cousin for your sins.
poor wench go weep
The Reckoning
This scene is built on a central irony: everyone is assembling to fight over a woman who cannot make a decision, and the more beautiful and detailed the descriptions of the fighters become, the more unbearable her position looks. Emilia's portrait-gazing — flip-flopping between Arcite and Palamon with almost comic desperation — is not comic. It's a woman trapped in an impossible choice where any outcome means she's responsible for a death. The scene ends on her couplet of pure despair: whoever wins, she loses a noble cousin. The court goes off excited; she is left alone.
If this happened today…
Imagine a woman who has been told by the court system that two men she barely knows are about to fight a duel over her, and she has to be there, and the winner gets to marry her. She's looking at their LinkedIn profiles trying to choose which one to root for — switching from one to the other every few minutes. Meanwhile, a group of men are describing the six championship fighters in loving, excited detail like fantasy football analysts. She finally says: 'Must these men die too?' Nobody particularly hears her.