No further.
No further.
In other words: no further.
no further
Sir, farewell. Repeat my wishes
To our great lord, of whose success I dare not
Make any timorous question; yet I wish him
Excess and overflow of power, an ’t might be,
To dure ill-dealing fortune. Speed to him!
Store never hurts good governors.
Sir, goodbye. Tell our great king my wishes, and I don't dare to worry about his success; yet I wish him more power than he can possibly use, if it's possible, to fight against bad luck. Go quickly to him! Having plenty of supplies never hurts a good leader.
Sir, goodbye. Tell Theseus I wish him well. I'm not worried about him succeeding—I just want him to have every advantage he can get. Get going! A good leader always needs plenty of supplies.
tell theseus i wish him well go fast plenty supplies help a good leader
Though I know
His ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they
Must yield their tribute there. My precious maid,
Those best affections that the heavens infuse
In their best-tempered pieces keep enthroned
In your dear heart!
Even though I know his power doesn't need my tiny contribution, still my loyalty must pay its respect there. My dear friend, may the best love that heaven gives stay forever in your beautiful heart!
Look, I know my gift is tiny compared to Theseus's power, but I'm giving what I can anyway. Emilia, I hope all the best affections heaven has to give stay in your heart.
my gift is small but i give it emilia may u have all the best affections
Thanks, sir. Remember me
To our all-royal brother, for whose speed
The great Bellona I’ll solicit; and
Since in our terrene state petitions are not
Without gifts understood, I’ll offer to her
What I shall be advised she likes. Our hearts
Are in his army, in his tent.
Thanks, sir. Remember me to our royal brother, and for his quick return I'll pray to the great goddess Bellona; and since in the world, prayers aren't heard without gifts as payment, I'll offer to her something I think she likes. Our hearts are with him in his army, in his tent.
Thanks. Tell Theseus I'm thinking of him. I'll pray to Bellona to make him move fast. And since the gods expect gifts when you pray to them, I'll figure out what she wants and give it to her. Our hearts are with his army.
tell theseus hi ill pray to bellona for his speed gods want gifts not just prayers our hearts r in his army
In ’s bosom.
We have been soldiers, and we cannot weep
When our friends don their helms, or put to sea,
Or tell of babes broached on the lance, or women
That have sod their infants in—and after eat them—
The brine they wept at killing ’em. Then if
You stay to see of us such spinsters, we
Should hold you here for ever.
In his heart. We have been soldiers, and we can't cry when our friends put on their helmets or go to sea, or when we hear that babies were speared on lances or that women cooked their own infants and then ate them—infants they cried over when they killed them. So if you saw us act like that kind of weeping woman, you'd stay here forever.
In his heart. We've been soldiers, so we're not the type to cry when guys we love put on their armor and go to war. Soldiers do unthinkable things—they stab babies, women kill their own kids out of desperation. If you saw us fall apart like typical grieving women, you'd never leave.
we were soldiers we dont cry soldiers do horrible things if u saw us grieve ud stay forever
Emilia's speech about Flavina is doing something unusual for Renaissance drama: it presents female-female devotion not as aberration or comedy but as the gold standard of love — more pure, more total, more consuming than adult heterosexual attachment. This is partly the Neoplatonic tradition that valued spiritual love over physical, and partly a genuine reflection of how women's same-sex friendships were understood in early modern England — as deep and legitimate bonds, perhaps prior to marriage in importance. But Emilia goes further: she is not just describing a past friendship; she is constructing an argument that it cannot be surpassed. The play takes her seriously. Her inability to love either Palamon or Arcite, her refusal to choose, her horror at the tournament — all of this is rooted here, in a dead eleven-year-old and a love that never became complicated by desire.
Peace be to you
As I pursue this war, which shall be then
Beyond further requiring.
May peace be with you as I pursue this war, and when it's done, I'll need nothing more.
Take care of yourself. I'm going to finish this war, and after that, I won't need anything else.
peace to u ill finish this war nothing else matters
How his longing
Follows his friend! Since his depart, his sports,
Though craving seriousness and skill, passed slightly
His careless execution, where nor gain
Made him regard, or loss consider, but
Playing one business in his hand, another
Directing in his head, his mind nurse equal
To these so differing twins. Have you observed him
Since our great lord departed?
Look how his mind follows his friend! Since his friend left, even the sports and games that need seriousness and skill, he's done carelessly—he doesn't care if he wins or loses, but doing one activity while thinking about another, his mind equally handles these two different tasks. Have you noticed him since our great king left?
See how his head's always on his friend? Ever since his buddy left, he's been really careless with his games and sports, even though they need skill and focus. He plays them without caring if he wins or loses—he's doing one thing while thinking about another. His mind can handle both equally. Have you noticed this?
hes thinking about his friend all the time he doesnt care about winning or losing his mind is split
With much labour,
And I did love him for ’t. They two have cabined
In many as dangerous as poor a corner,
Peril and want contending; they have skiffed
Torrents whose roaring tyranny and power
I’ th’ least of these was dreadful; and they have
Fought out together where Death’s self was lodged;
Yet fate hath brought them off. Their knot of love,
Tied, weaved, entangled, with so true, so long,
And with a finger of so deep a cunning,
May be outworn, never undone. I think
Theseus cannot be umpire to himself,
Cleaving his conscience into twain and doing
Each side like justice, which he loves best.
With great effort I observed him, and I loved him for it. The two of them have been through many situations as dangerous and difficult as can be, Where peril and deprivation battled for dominance; they have navigated Violent torrents whose roaring force and power Even in their least intense moments were dreadful; and they have Fought together in places where Death itself dwelled; Yet fate has brought them both through safely. Their bond of love, tied, woven, tangled together with such truth and length, Fastened with such deeply clever skill, May be worn out over time, but it can never be undone. I believe Theseus cannot judge himself fairly, Dividing his conscience in two and treating Each side as if it deserves justice, which he loves most.
I watched him carefully with a lot of effort, and I loved him for it. The two of them have been through some of the worst situations you can imagine, Fighting their way through danger and poverty together; they've gotten through Huge roaring torrents that were absolutely terrifying; And they've fought side by side in places where Death was literally standing nearby; But somehow fate got them both out alive. Their love for each other is so deeply tied together and twisted with truth and time, Bound together with such a deep and clever kind of knot, That it might wear out eventually, but it can never actually come undone. I think Theseus can't be fair about his own feelings, Because he's torn his conscience in half and loves Both sides equally, and that's what he loves most.
watched him carefully & loved him for it the two of them survived hell together fought thru violent torrents death was right there but they got out their love bond is so woven it can't break even if it wears out theseus can't judge his own heart he loves both sides equally
Doubtless
There is a best, and reason has no manners
To say it is not you. I was acquainted
Once with a time when I enjoyed a playfellow;
You were at wars when she the grave enriched,
Who made too proud the bed, took leave o’ th’ moon
Which then looked pale at parting, when our count
Was each eleven.
There's no question about it, and reason itself would agree that it's you. I once had a playfellow whom I loved; you were away at war when she enriched the grave—she was so alive it made the bed seem empty without her—she said goodbye to the moon, which looked pale when she departed, when we were both eleven years old.
You're obviously the best one to love, and there's no arguing that. I had a best friend when I was younger—Flavina. You were away fighting when she died. She was so full of life, and the grave seemed too small for her. The moon even looked sad when she died. We were both just eleven.
u r the best i had a best friend flavina she died when i was eleven god she was alive
’Twas Flavina.
’Twas Flavina.
In other words: ’twas flavina.
’twas flavina
The play opens with two friendship pairs, and it keeps comparing them. Theseus and Pirithous represent mature, tested, military friendship — 'tied, weaved, entangled' with 'strong judgement' over years of shared danger. Palamon and Arcite represent something rawer: perfect identification, the sense of being one soul in two bodies. Both friendships will be strained by the play's central event — the sight of Emilia. Pirithous eventually intercedes with Theseus on Arcite's behalf; the kinsmen try to kill each other. The comparison is not flattering to youth. But it raises a genuine question the play never answers: which is the better model of love, the one seasoned by time or the one burning at full intensity before experience has tempered it? Emilia's Flavina speech offers a third option: love before desire, love without a future, love defined entirely by its present moment.
Yes.
You talk of Pirithous’ and Theseus’ love.
Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasoned,
More buckled with strong judgement, and their needs
The one of th’ other may be said to water
Their intertangled roots of love; but I,
And she I sigh and spoke of, were things innocent,
Loved for we did, and like the elements
That know not what nor why, yet do effect
Rare issues by their operance, our souls
Did so to one another. What she liked
Was then of me approved, what not, condemned,
No more arraignment. The flower that I would pluck
And put between my breasts, O, then but beginning
To swell about the blossom—she would long
Till she had such another, and commit it
To the like innocent cradle, where, phœnix-like,
They died in perfume. On my head no toy
But was her pattern; her affections—pretty,
Though haply her careless wear—I followed
For my most serious decking; had mine ear
Stol’n some new air, or at adventure hummed one
From musical coinage, why, it was a note
Whereon her spirits would sojourn—rather, dwell on,
And sing it in her slumbers. This rehearsal,
Which fury-innocent wots well, comes in
Like old importment’s bastard—has this end,
That the true love ’tween maid and maid may be
More than in sex individual.
You talk about Pirithous's and Theseus's love. Theirs has more foundation, is more mature, more strengthened by strong judgment, and their needs for each other water their tangled roots of love; but she and I were innocent things, loving because we did, and like the elements that don't know what or why, yet create rare things by how they work, our souls did so to each other. What she liked was then approved by me, what she didn't, I condemned, no more questioning. The flower I'd pick and put between my breasts—just beginning to swell with the blossom—she would long for until she had one like it, and put it in the same innocent cradle, where like a phoenix, they died in perfume. On my head nothing that wasn't her pattern; her affections, though maybe careless on her, I followed for my own careful decoration; if my ear had caught some new song or hummed one, it was a note her spirits would dwell on and sing in her sleep. This explanation, which innocent fury knows well, comes in like an old saying's illegitimate child—it has this point: that true love between woman and woman can be deeper than romantic love between the sexes.
Pirithous and Theseus's love is real, but it's built on solid ground and mature judgment, and they need each other to survive. My friendship with Flavina was different—it was innocent and pure. We loved each other just because, without thinking about it, like how the elements just naturally combine and create something beautiful. If she liked something, I loved it. If she didn't, I hated it. We'd find the same flowers and keep them together until they died in perfume. Every style she wore, I copied. If she heard a song, I'd hum it until we both dreamed about it. I'm telling you this because I want you to understand something: a woman's love for another woman can be just as real and just as deep as romantic love between men or men and women.
my love with flavina was innocent and pure we did everything together she liked what i liked hated what i hated womans love 4 a woman can be as deep as romance
You’re out of breath;
And this high-speeded pace is but to say
That you shall never, like the maid Flavina,
Love any that’s called man.
You're out of breath; and this rushing pace is just to say that you'll never, like the woman Flavina, love any man.
You're breathing hard. All you're really saying is that you'll never love a man the way you loved Flavina.
ur out of breath basically ur saying u wont love any man
I am sure I shall not.
I'm certain I won't.
I know I won't.
i wont
Now, alack, weak sister,
I must no more believe thee in this point—
Though in ’t I know thou dost believe thyself—
Than I will trust a sickly appetite,
That loathes even as it longs. But sure, my sister,
If I were ripe for your persuasion, you
Have said enough to shake me from the arm
Of the all-noble Theseus; for whose fortunes
I will now in and kneel, with great assurance
That we, more than his Pirithous, possess
The high throne in his heart.
Now, oh sister, I can't believe you on this—even though I know you believe yourself—any more than I'd trust a sick appetite that hates what it wants. But sister, if I were open to being convinced, you've said enough to make me leave Theseus; but for his sake I'll go kneel with certainty that we, more than his Pirithous, hold the highest place in his heart.
Okay, sister, I don't believe you, and I know you think you mean it, but that's like trusting a sick person's eating habits. But look, if I was actually open to what you're saying, you'd almost convince me to leave Theseus. But I'm going to go kneel for him instead, because I'm pretty sure we women love him more than Pirithous does.
i dont believe u even tho u believe urself u almost convinced me to leave theseus but we love him more than pirithous
I am not
Against your faith, yet I continue mine.
I'm not going against your faith, yet I stay with mine.
I'm not saying you're wrong, but I'm still sticking with what I believe.
im not against u im just staying with my beliefs
The Reckoning
This is a quiet, crucial scene — the women left behind while the men go to war, talking about love. Emilia's speech about Flavina is one of the most moving passages in the play: a meditation on innocent, pre-sexual devotion so complete that it makes adult love look mechanical by comparison. Hippolyta suspects her sister will never truly love a man. Emilia agrees. The audience is left with a character whose most profound love is already dead — and who will have two men die for her before the play ends.
If this happened today…
Two sisters see their friend off at the airport — he's flying to join a humanitarian mission. The older sister says he's been distracted since his best friend left last week, barely sleeping. The younger one says she gets it — she remembers her childhood best friend who died at eleven. They were inseparable. She imitated everything she did, wore what she wore, hummed the tunes she hummed. That kind of love doesn't happen twice. Her sister says gently: 'You know you'll probably fall in love with a man eventually.' The younger one looks out the window. 'I really don't think so.'