To thee no star be dark!
May the stars never go dark for you!
May you never be left in the dark!
may stars stay bright for you
Both heaven and earth
Friend thee for ever!
May both heaven and earth be your friend forever!
May the heavens and earth always support you!
may heaven & earth support you forever
All the good that may
Be wished upon thy head, I cry “Amen” to ’t!
All the good that can be wished for you, I say yes to it!
Everything good people could wish for you, I'm saying yes to all of it!
all the good wishes i approve
Th’ impartial gods, who from the mounted heavens
View us their mortal herd, behold who err
And, in their time, chastise. Go and find out
The bones of your dead lords and honour them
With treble ceremony, rather than a gap
Should be in their dear rites, we would supply ’t,
But those we will depute which shall invest
You in your dignities and even each thing
Our haste does leave imperfect. So, adieu,
And heaven’s good eyes look on you.
The fair gods, who from their high place in heaven watch us mortals, see who does wrong and punish them in their time. Go and find the bones of your dead lords and honor them with triple ceremony; rather than have a gap in their proper rites, we will provide it, but the things we will send to help will give you your dignity, and will finish each thing that our hurry leaves incomplete. So goodbye, and heaven's good eyes look on you.
The gods are watching from heaven, and they see who messes up and punish them later. Go find your dead lords' bones and give them three times the ceremony they'd normally get. Whatever's missing from the burial rites, we'll supply. We're in a hurry but we're sending people to help you finish everything properly. Goodbye, and may the gods look out for you.
gods watch & punish wrongdoing find ur dead lords bones honor them w triple ceremony well help u finish everything
The entire battle of Thebes — the war that drove the first scene's drama, that cost Palamon and Arcite their freedom, that occupied two acts of Chaucer's source poem — is disposed of in a trumpet call and a stage direction. 'A battle struck within; then a retreat.' Shakespeare and Fletcher are not interested in the war itself, only in its consequences. This compression is deliberate and serves the play's real focus: not martial glory but the aftermath of glory — what happens to men who fought brilliantly on the wrong side. Palamon and Arcite did everything right by a warrior's code and ended up broken on stretchers. The play starts here, with what remains when the trumpets stop.
What are those?
Who are those men?
Who are those guys?
who are they
The Herald speaks with the careful efficiency of a professional information-deliverer — he registers Palamon and Arcite's quality without overreaching. His economy lets the scene breathe around what he says.
Men of great quality, as may be judged
By their appointment. Some of Thebes have told ’s
They are sisters’ children, nephews to the King.
Men of great quality, as you can tell by how they're dressed. Some from Thebes have told us they're the king's sisters' children, nephews to the King.
These are clearly high-quality guys based on how they're dressed. Thebes told us they're the king's nephews, his sisters' sons.
they r high quality thebes says theyre the kings nephews
By th’ helm of Mars, I saw them in the war,
Like to a pair of lions, smeared with prey,
Make lanes in troops aghast. I fixed my note
Constantly on them, for they were a mark
Worth a god’s view. What prisoner was ’t that told me
When I enquired their names?
By Mars's helmet, I saw them in the war like a pair of lions smeared with blood, making soldiers flee in fear. I watched them constantly, for they were a sight worth a god's attention. What prisoner was it who told me their names when I asked?
I swear, I saw them in battle like two lions covered in blood, scattering soldiers everywhere. I couldn't stop watching them—they were worth any god's attention. Which prisoner told me who they were?
i saw them in war like lions covered in blood they scattered soldiers worthy of a gods attention
Wi’ leave, they’re called Arcite and Palamon.
With your permission, they're called Arcite and Palamon.
If I may, they're called Arcite and Palamon.
theyre called arcite and palamon
’Tis right; those, those. They are not dead?
Yes, those ones. Are they not dead?
Yeah, those guys. They're still alive, right?
those r the ones theyre not dead right
Nor in a state of life. Had they been taken
When their last hurts were given, ’twas possible
They might have been recovered; yet they breathe
And have the name of men.
They're not really living either. If they'd been found and treated when they were wounded, it would have been possible to save them; yet they breathe and are still called men.
They're not really alive, but not dead either. If they'd been rescued when they got hurt, they might've made it. But they're still breathing, so they count as men.
theyre not alive or dead if they were treated when wounded they couldve lived but theyre still breathing
Then like men use ’em.
The very lees of such, millions of rates,
Exceed the wine of others. All our surgeons
Convent in their behoof; our richest balms,
Rather than niggard, waste. Their lives concern us
Much more than Thebes is worth. Rather than have ’em
Freed of this plight, and in their morning state,
Then treat them like men. The very bottom part of such noble men, multiplied millions of times, is worth more than other men's best. All our surgeons will gather for their benefit; our best medicine we'll use freely, not sparingly. Their lives are far more important to us than the entire city of Thebes. Rather than have them freed from this terrible state and back in their former health—
Treat them like the nobles they are. Even the worst of such great men is worth millions of times more than average men at their best. All our surgeons will work together for them; we'll use our best medicine freely, not being stingy. Their lives matter way more to us than all of Thebes. I'd rather—
treat them like nobles theyre worth millions of normal men use all our best doctors & medicine their lives r more important than thebes
But forty-thousandfold we had rather have ’em
Prisoners to us than death. Bear ’em speedily
From our kind air, to them unkind, and minister
What man to man may do, for our sake, more,
Since I have known frights, fury, friends’ behests,
Love’s provocations, zeal, a mistress’ task,
Desire of liberty, a fever, madness,
Hath set a mark which nature could not reach to
Without some imposition, sickness in will
O’er-wrestling strength in reason. For our love
And great Apollo’s mercy, all our best
Their best skill tender. Lead into the city,
Where, having bound things scattered, we will post
To Athens ’fore our army.
We'd rather have them as our prisoners forty thousand times over than have them die. Take them quickly from this place that's been kind to us but unkind to them, and do everything we can for them—even more, for our sake. Because I myself have known fear, anger, pressure from friends, love's demands, loyalty, a lover's task, longing to be free, fever, and madness—things that have pushed us beyond what nature can endure without some pressure, sickness of the will that overpowers reason. For the sake of our friendship and great Apollo's mercy, give them your best skill. Take them to the city, and once we've organized things there, we'll go to Athens before our army does.
We'd much rather keep them alive as prisoners than have them die. Get them to the city quickly and give them the best medical care we can—do everything possible for them, and do it generously. I know what it's like to suffer—fear, anger, the pressure of friends' demands, love, loyalty, desire for freedom, fever, madness—things that wear you down beyond what you think you can survive. For my sake and for the gods' sake, help them recover. Once we've taken care of things in the city, we'll head to Athens.
keep them alive no matter what they're not dying on us give them the best care i've been through hell too - i know suffering let's get them to the city then head home
The Reckoning
Everything happens fast here — the war that occupied the queens' petition and the cousins' moral wrestling is over in a stage direction. What the scene lingers on is the discovery of Palamon and Arcite: two men who fought for the wrong side, against the right duke, and now lie between life and death. Theseus is strangely moved by them — moved enough to want them alive and captive rather than dead and free. The audience senses that something is beginning, though no one on stage knows what.
If this happened today…
A general returns from a decisive operation. The families of the fallen get their closure — a brief ceremony, then they're released to go home. But in the aftermath, his intelligence team flags two enemy fighters found barely alive: elite, clearly well-born, the kind you'd want to question. The general watches them being loaded onto stretchers and feels something he can't name — respect, maybe curiosity. 'Don't let them die,' he says. 'Get them to our hospital. Give them our best.'