ARCITE. We seek not Thy breath of mercy, Theseus. ’Tis to me A thing as soon to die as thee to say it, And no more moved. Where this man calls me traitor, Let me say thus much: if in love be treason, In service of so excellent a beauty, As I love most, and in that faith will perish, As I have brought my life here to confirm it, As I have served her truest, worthiest, As I dare kill this cousin that denies it, So let me be most traitor, and you please me. For scorning thy edict, Duke, ask that lady Why she is fair, and why her eyes command me Stay here to love her; and if she say “traitor,” I am a villain fit to lie unburied. PALAMON. Thou shalt have pity of us both, O Theseus, If unto neither thou show mercy. Stop, As thou art just, thy noble ear against us; As thou art valiant, for thy cousin’s soul, Whose twelve strong labours crown his memory, Let’s die together at one instant, Duke; Only a little let him fall before me, That I may tell my soul he shall not have her. THESEUS. I grant your wish, for, to say true, your cousin Has ten times more offended, for I gave him More mercy than you found, sir, your offences Being no more than his. None here speak for ’em, For, ere the sun set, both shall sleep for ever. HIPPOLYTA. Alas the pity! Now or never, sister, Speak, not to be denied. That face of yours Will bear the curses else of after ages For these lost cousins. EMILIA. In my face, dear sister, I find no anger to ’em, nor no ruin; The misadventure of their own eyes kill ’em. Yet that I will be woman and have pity, My knees shall grow to’ th’ ground but I’ll get mercy. [_She kneels._] Help me, dear sister; in a deed so virtuous The powers of all women will be with us. Most royal brother— HIPPOLYTA. [_Kneels._] Sir, by our tie of marriage— EMILIA. By your own spotless honour— HIPPOLYTA. By that faith, That fair hand, and that honest heart you gave me— EMILIA. By that you would have pity in another, By your own virtues infinite— HIPPOLYTA. By valour, By all the chaste nights I have ever pleased you— THESEUS. These are strange conjurings. PIRITHOUS. Nay, then, I’ll in too. [_Kneels._] By all our friendship, sir, by all our dangers, By all you love most: wars and this sweet lady— EMILIA. By that you would have trembled to deny A blushing maid— HIPPOLYTA. By your own eyes, by strength, In which you swore I went beyond all women, Almost all men, and yet I yielded, Theseus— PIRITHOUS. To crown all this, by your most noble soul, Which cannot want due mercy, I beg first. HIPPOLYTA. Next, hear my prayers. EMILIA. Last, let me entreat, sir. PIRITHOUS. For mercy. HIPPOLYTA. Mercy. EMILIA. Mercy on these princes. THESEUS. Ye make my faith reel. Say I felt Compassion to’em both, how would you place it? [_Emilia, Hippolyta and Pirithous rise._] EMILIA. Upon their lives. But with their banishments.