And could we choose the time, and choose aright, 'Tis best to die, our honour at the height. When we have done our ancestors no shame, But served our friends, and well secured our fame; Then should we wish our happy life to close, And leave no more for fortune to dispose; So should we make our death a glad relief From future shame, from sickness, and from grief; Enjoying while we live the present hour, And dying in our excellence and flower. Then round our death-bed every friend should run, And joy us of our conquest early won; While the malicious world, with envious tears, Should grudge our happy end, and wish it theirs. Since then our Arcite is with honour dead, Why should we mourn, that he so soon is freed, Or call untimely what the gods decreed? With grief as just a friend may be deplored, From a foul prison to free air restored. Ought he to thank his kinsman or his wife, Could tears recall him into wretched life? Their sorrow hurts themselves; on him is lost, And worse than both, offends his happy ghost. What then remains, but after past annoy To take the good vicissitude of joy; To thank the gracious gods for what they give, Possess our souls, and, while we live, to live? Ordain we then two sorrows to combine, And in one point the extremes of grief to join; That thence resulting joy may be renewed, As jarring notes in harmony conclude. Then I propose that Palamon shall be In marriage joined with beauteous Emily; For which already I have gained the assent Of my free people in full parliament. Long love to her has borne the faithful knight, And well deserved, had Fortune done him right: 'Tis time to mend her fault, since Emily By Arcite's death from former vows is free; If you, fair sister, ratify the accord, And take him for your husband and your lord, 'Tis no dishonour to confer your grace On one descended from a royal race; And were he less, yet years of service past From grateful souls exact reward at last. Pity is Heaven's and yours; nor can she find A throne so soft as in a woman's mind." He said; she blushed; and as o'erawed by might, Seemed to give Theseus what she gave the knight. Then, turning to the Theban, thus he said: "Small arguments are needful to persuade Your temper to comply with my command:" And speaking thus, he gave Emilia's hand. Smiled Venus, to behold her own true knight. Obtain the conquest, though he lost the fight; And blessed with nuptial bliss the sweet laborious night. Eros and Anteros on either side, One fired the bridegroom, and one warmed the bride; And long-attending Hymen from above Showered on the bed the whole Idalian grove. All of a tenor was their after-life, No day discoloured with domestic strife; No jealousy, but mutual truth believed, Secure repose, and kindness undeceived. Thus Heaven, beyond the compass of his thought, Sent him the blessing he so dearly bought.