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The people cried aloud with one voice, and their approbation reached the gates of heaven. ‘God bless you, great lord! In your goodness of heart, you are not willing to shed noble blood!’ Then, as the trumpets blew and the drums began to beat, the whole company made its way to the amphitheatre of stone. The people of Athens proceeded according to their rank, through a city decked in cloth of gold. Leading them was Theseus himself, with Palamon and Arcite riding on either side; after him rode his queen, Hippolita, and fair Emily herself, while all the rest followed. It was not yet nine o’clock when they arrived at the lists, but Theseus took his seat of state. When he was enthroned in majesty, Hippolita and Emily sat in their appointed places. Then all the others took their seats. They looked towards the western gate of Mars where Arcite, with a ba
In go the spears, held firmly for attack; in go the spurs, piercing the flanks of the horses. These were plainly men who could joust and ride. The shivering shafts then fell against the sturdy shields. One rider feels the thrust against his breastbone. The spears spring up, some twenty feet in height; the gleaming swords are raised, as bright as silver. The helmets of the knights are smashed to smithereens. BLOOD BUBBLES. BONES BREAK. BREASTS BURST. One knight hurls himself through the thickest of the throng. One steed stumbles, and down come horse and rider, rolling under foot. Another knight stands his ground and fights with his spear, sending his opponent tumbling. Here is one wounded and taken; despite his protests he is led to the pillar of defeat, where he must remain for the duration of the tournament. Another fallen knight is escorted to the other side. From time to time Theseus ordains a pause, so that the knights may rest and with drink or other cordials refresh themselves.
There were many occasions when the two Thebans, Palamon and Arcite, were engaged in single combat; they scarred and slashed one another, and were both unhorsed. There is no tiger in the woods of Greece, her whelp stolen by a hyena, who was more savage than Arcite stalking his foe. The Moroccan lion, hunted down and weak from hunger, was not more fierce than Palamon against his enemy in love. Enraged with jealousy they struck each other hard; their blood ran in streams upon the earth. Yet there is an end to everything. Before the day drew to a close the strong king, Emetreus, managed to get hold of Palamon while he was fighting Arcite; he plunged his sword into his flesh and with twenty men dragged him to the stake. Immediately the great king, Lycurgus, rode to the rescue of his champion, but he was knocked from his horse; Emetreus himself was wounded by Palamon, who, refusing to yield, had struck out at him with his sword and dislodged him from his saddle. Yet it was all for nothing. He was taken struggling to the stake. His brave heart could not assist him now. As the rules of Theseus had stated, he was obliged to remain where he was. He had been defeated. He was bowed in sorrow, knowing well enough that he could not fight again. When Theseus witnessed all this he cried out to the knights left in the field, ‘No more! The fighting is over! I can now give my just and proper decision. Arcite of Thebes has gained the hand of Emily. He has won her in a fair contest. Fortune is on his side.’ The people then exclaimed with joy, in cries and shouts so loud that it seemed the lists themselves might fall.
What can fair Venus, patron of Palamon, do now? What can she say? Of course, as women will, she broke down in tears. She wept at the thwarting of her will. ‘I am disgraced,’ she said. ‘I have been put to shame.’
‘Wait,’ Saturn told her. ‘Be calm. Mars has had his wish fulfilled, and his knight has gained the victory. But trust me. Your heart will soon be eased.’
Together they looked down upon the scene on earth, as the trumpets blared out and the heralds joyfully declared that Arcite had triumphed over Palamon. But do not join the general clamour. Listen to me first. I will relate to you a miracle. Fierce Arcite had removed his helmet so that the crowd might see his face. He rode in triumph on his charger, around the course, looking up at Emily. She returned his look with an affectionate glance, indicating to everyone that fortune’s favourite was also her own. It seemed to Arcite that his heart might burst with love and tenderness.
But then something happened. A hellborn fury rose up from the ground, despatched from the dark world by Pluto at the request of Saturn. The horse started with fright at the apparition, reared up and then fell on its side. Before Arcite could leap from his saddle he was thrown off and pitched headlong on to the ground. He lay there as if he were already dead, his chest shattered by his own bow; the blood ran into his face, so that it seemed to turn black. Immediately he was taken up and carried to the palace of Theseus. He was cut out of his armour and gently laid in a bed. He was still alive and conscious, crying out all the time for Emily.
Meanwhile Duke Theseus returned to Athens with all of his company; he travelled in ceremonial state, and in festive guise, since he did not wish to dishearten the people by dwelling on the accident. It was widely reported that Arcite was not in danger of death, and that he would soon recover from his wounds. There was another reason for celebration, too, since not one of the combatants had been slain in the tournament. There were many who were badly injured, especially one whose breastbone was broken by a spear, but no one had died. Some of the knights had sweet-smelling ointment for their wounds, while others had magical charms to work on broken limbs and broken heads. Many of the fighters could be seen gulping down the fermentation of herbs, even sage, in order to heal themselves. Sage is good for convulsions. Hence the saying, ‘Why should a man die when sage grows in the garden?’
Theseus also did his best to comfort and to cheer them and, according to the laws of good hospitality, he organized a revel that would last all night. He also issued a proclamation in which he stated that no one had been defeated or disgraced. It had been a noble tournament, an affair of honour to all concerned, subject only to the whim of fate. There was no shame in being captured and dragged to the stake by twenty armed men; Palamon had not surrendered but had been manhandled by knights, yeomen and servants. Even his horse had been beaten with staves. He had no reason to be ashamed or humiliated. His bravery was clear for all to see. So Theseus calmed both sides of the dispute, and prevented any outburst of anger or resentment. In fact they embraced one another like brothers. The duke gave them gifts, their worth determined by their rank, and organized a lavish feast that lasted for three days; then he escorted the two kings, Emetreus and Lycurgus, royally out of his lands. Every man went home well pleased by the adventure, and the final words among them all were ‘Farewell! Good fortune!’
Now I will return to the two Thebans. The breast of Arcite was terribly swollen by his injury; the pressure on his heart increased, and the blood was clotted beyond the remedy of any physician. It was trapped, corrupted and seething in his body, and could not be released by cupping or bleeding or herbal cure. The animal spirits of the body were not powerful enough to expel the rotting matter. So all the vessels of his lungs began to swell, and all the muscles of his breast were paralysed by the venom. He could neither vomit nor excrete. That part of his body was thoroughly broken down. Life held no dominion there. And if there comes a time when the powers of nature no longer work, then the benefits of medicine are worthless. It is time for church. Arcite must surely die. That is the sum of it.