PALAMON. O miserable end of our alliance! The gods are mighty. Arcite, if thy heart, Thy worthy, manly heart, be yet unbroken, Give me thy last words. I am Palamon, One that yet loves thee dying. ARCITE. Take Emilia And with her all the world’s joy. Reach thy hand; Farewell. I have told my last hour. I was false, Yet never treacherous. Forgive me, cousin. One kiss from fair Emilia. [_Emilia kisses Arcite._] ’Tis done. Take her. I die. PALAMON. Thy brave soul seek Elysium! [_Arcite dies._] EMILIA. I’ll close thine eyes, Prince; blessed souls be with thee! Thou art a right good man, and, while I live, This day I give to tears. PALAMON. And I to honour. THESEUS. In this place first you fought; e’en very here I sundered you. Acknowledge to the gods Our thanks that you are living. His part is played, and, though it were too short, He did it well; your day is lengthened, and The blissful dew of heaven does arrose you. The powerful Venus well hath graced her altar, And given you your love. Our master Mars, Hath vouched his oracle, and to Arcite gave The grace of the contention. So the deities Have showed due justice.—Bear this hence. PALAMON. O cousin, That we should things desire, which do cost us The loss of our desire! That naught could buy Dear love, but loss of dear love! [_Arcite’s body is carried out._] THESEUS. Never Fortune Did play a subtler game. The conquered triumphs; The victor has the loss; yet in the passage The gods have been most equal. Palamon, Your kinsman hath confessed the right o’ th’ lady Did lie in you, for you first saw her and Even then proclaimed your fancy. He restored her As your stol’n jewel and desired your spirit To send him hence forgiven. The gods my justice Take from my hand and they themselves become The executioners. Lead your lady off And call your lovers from the stage of death, Whom I adopt my friends. A day or two Let us look sadly, and give grace unto The funeral of Arcite, in whose end The visages of bridegrooms we’ll put on And smile with Palamon; for whom an hour, But one hour since, I was as dearly sorry As glad of Arcite, and am now as glad As for him sorry. O you heavenly charmers, What things you make of us! For what we lack We laugh, for what we have are sorry, still Are children in some kind. Let us be thankful For that which is, and with you leave dispute That are above our question. Let’s go off And bear us like the time. [_Flourish. Exeunt._] EPILOGUE Enter Epilogue.