Then Arcite, with anger in his heart, unsheathed his sword. He was as ferocious as a lion close to a kill. ‘By God above us,’ he said. ‘If you were not sick with fever, and made lunatic by love, you would not walk out of this grove alive. If you had a weapon, you would surely die at my hand today. I deny the covenant, and I defy the bond, that you say I pledged to you. What? Do you think, like a fool, that love is negotiable? That it can be tied down? I will love Emily despite all your threats.’ He stopped for a moment, and wiped his brow. ‘Since you are a knight of high degree, I take it that you will decide the right to her by mortal combat. So here I pledge my faith to meet you in battle tomorrow. Without the knowledge of anyone in Athens, I will bring you armour and weapons. You choose the very best, and leave the worst for me. Tonight I will bring you food and drink, too, as well as blankets for your bedding here. And if it so happens that you win my lady, and slay me in this wood where now we stand, then you may possess her with as firm a right as I.’ And Palamon answered, ‘I accept your terms.’ So they parted from each other, both of them pledging their knightly duty to fight the next day.

Oh Cupid, god of love, you are devoid of charity. You are the youngest of the gods, but you will permit no other to share your power. It has been said, with truth, that neither love nor lordship will allow a rival. Arcite and Palamon are, as yet, living examples. So Arcite rode back to Athens and, before daybreak on the following morning, he quietly and secretly prepared two suits of armour; they were both sturdy enough to decide that day’s battle between the two noble kinsmen. Then, on his horse, as alone as he was born, he carried all this gear to the place of combat.

In the wood, at the time and place appointed, Arcite and Palamon confronted one another. They both tried to gain their composure, and master their countenance, just like the hunters of Thrace who stand waiting for the lion or the bear to be flushed out. When they hear the beast come rushing through the branches and the leaves, they think to themselves, ‘Here comes my mortal enemy. One of us must die. Either I will slay it when it comes rushing forward or, if fortune is against me, it will kill me.’ Palamon knew the strength of Arcite, and Arcite was well aware of the might of Palamon. They did not greet or salute each other, but without any words they helped one another to put on his armour. They were so courteous that they might have been brothers. But then they sailed out in deadly combat, their swords and lances at the ready. How could they maintain their contest for so long? Well, as you may imagine, Palamon fought like a ferocious lion while Arcite attacked him with all the savagery of a tiger. No. They were more beastly than that. They fought like wild boars, their jaws frothing with white foam. They fought up to their ankles in blood. CRASH. BANG. OUCH. There I will leave them, fighting, to their destinies.

Destiny is the administrator, the general surveyor, of God’s plan. Providence lies in the mind of God. Destiny is the means whereby it is worked out in the world. It is so powerful that it overrules all contradiction. That which is deemed impossible may be determined by destiny, even if it happens only once in a thousand years. All our instincts and appetites on earth – whether for war or peace, for love or hate – are ruled by destiny.

So in that spirit I turn to Theseus, lord of Athens, whose instinct and appetite were for hunting. In May, particularly, he was eager to chase and kill the royal hart. The day did not dawn when he was not dressed and ready to mount his horse, accompanied by huntsmen and hounds and horns. He loved the chase, and he loved the kill. He cried out, in the pursuit, ‘So ho!’ and ‘Ware! Ware!’ He worshipped the god of war, of course; but after Mars he venerated Diana, the goddess of the hunt.

Clear was the day, and bright the trembling air, when Theseus rode out. He was in the highest spirits, accompanied as he was by his queen, Hippolita, and by fair Emily dressed all in green. He had been told by his men that there was a hart lurking in a nearby wood, and with all speed he rode up to the spot; he knew well enough that this was the place where the beast might break cover, and fly across the stream to make its escape. So he slipped the leashes of the hounds in preparation for pursuit. Yet wait. Call off the dogs. Where, under the sun, was this wood? You have guessed it. No sooner did Theseus ride up among the trees than he saw Palamon and Arcite, the two wild boars, still in ferocious battle. They wielded their bright swords with such power that the least stroke from one of them might have felled an oak. He had no idea, as yet, who they were. But he spurred on his horse and, riding between the two combatants, he unsheathed his sword and called out to them, ‘Hoo! Stop this, on pain of losing your head! By mighty Mars, I will slay the next man who raises his sword! Now tell me, what rank or estate are you? How do you dare to fight in my land without judge or officer, as you must do in a legal duel?’

Palamon answered directly. ‘Sire, there is nothing we can say. Both of us deserve the punishment of death. We are two woeful wretches, two slaves of destiny already overburdened by our own lives; as you are a rightful lord and judge, show us neither mercy nor refuge. Yet show some charity to me. Kill me first. But then kill him as well. On second thoughts, you might as well kill him first. It makes no difference. Shall I tell you who he is? Here stands Arcite, your mortal enemy, who was banished from Athens on pain of death. Surely, now, death is the fate that he deserves. You may know him by another name. This is the man that came to your court and called himself Philostratus. Do you recognize him? He has fooled you for many years. You even made him your principal squire. This is the man, also, who declares himself to be the lover of Emily! Well. Enough of that. Since the day has come when I must die, I will make a full confession to you. I am woeful Palamon, the man who unlawfully escaped from your prison. I am your mortal enemy, too, and I also profess myself to be the lover of fair Emily. Let me die before her now. That is all I wish. So I ask for the sentence of death to be carried out on me and my companion. Both of us have deserved our fate.’

Then the worthy duke Theseus replied to him. ‘There is nothing much to say. Out of your own mouth comes your confession. You have condemned yourself. It only falls to me to pronounce judgment. There is no need to apply the rack or thumbscrew. You will simply die. I swear this by the patron of my life, great Mars.’

Yet now his queen, Hippolita, out of sympathy and pity, began to weep. Then Emily started to cry. And then, of course, all the ladies of the company joined in the lament. They bewailed the fact that two knights of such noble deportment should meet such a fate. The argument between them both was all for love. The women beheld the great and bloody wounds upon their fair bodies, and cried out in chorus, ‘Have mercy, lord, upon all of us women!’ They fell down upon the ground on their bare knees, and would have kissed his feet in entreaty. But then the anger of Theseus passed. Pity soon enters a gentle heart. He had at first been enraged at their abuse of his power but now, on considering the matter, he realized that their crimes were not so heinous. They had some reason to act in the way they had. His wrath was the accuser, but his judgment was the defender. He understood well enough that any man in love will try to help his cause, and that any man in prison will wish to escape. That was natural. That was human. He also felt some compassion for the women, still weeping all around him.

He contemplated the matter and then spoke softly to himself. ‘There is a curse upon a merciless ruler who upholds only the law of the lion, who is pitiless to the humble and haughty alike, who does not distinguish between the unrepentant and the penitent. Shame on him who weighs all men alike.’