The Two Noble Kinsmen
Act I
I.i.
Enter Hymen with a torch burning; a BOY, in a white robe,
before, singing and strewing flowers; after Hymen, a Nymph
encompassed in her tresses, bearing a wheaten garland. then
THESEUS between two other nymphs with wheaten chaplets on their
heads. Then HIPPOLYTA the bride, led by PIRITHOUS and another
holding a garland over her head (her tresses likewise hanging).
After her, EMILIA, holding up her train;
BOY (Sings)
Roses, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;
Maiden pinks, of odour faint,
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true.
Primrose, first-born child of Ver,
Merry springtime's harbinger,
With harebells dim.
Oxlips, in their cradles growing,
Marigolds, on deathbeds blowing,
Lark's-heels trim.
All dear Natures children sweet
Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet
Strew Flowers.
Blessing their sense.
Not an angel of the air,
Bird melodious, or bird fair,
Is absent hence.
The crow, the sland'rous cuckoo, nor
The boding raven, nor chough hoar
Nor chattring pie,
May on our bridehouse perch or sing,
Or with them any discord bring
But from it fly.
Enter three Queens in black, with veils stained, with imperial crowns.
The First Queen falls down at the foot of Theseus; the Second falls down at
the foot of Hippolyta; the Third before Emilia.
1 QUEEN
For pity's sake and true gentilities,
Hear, and respect me.
2 QUEEN
For your mother's sake,
And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair ones,
Hear and respect me.
3 QUEEN
Now, for the love of him whom Jove hath marked
The honour of your bed and for the sake
Of clear virginity, be advocate
For us, and our distresses: This good deed
Shall raze you out o'the Book of Trespasses
All you are set down there.
THESEUS
Sad lady, rise.
HIPPOLYTA
Stand up.
EMILIA
No knees to me.
What woman I may stead that is distressed,
Does bind me to her.
THESEUS
What's your request? Deliver you for all.
1 QUEEN
We are three queens whose sovereigns fell before
The wrath of cruel Creon, who endure
The beaks of ravens, talons of the kites,
And pecks of crows, in the foul fields of Thebes,
He will not suffer us to burn their bones,
To urn their ashes, nor to take th' offence
Of mortal loathsomeness from the blest eye
Of holy Pheobus, but infects the winds
With stench of our slain lords. O pity, Duke;
Thou purger of the earth, draw thy feared sword
That does good turns to'th world; give us the bones
Of our dead kings, that we may chapel them.
And of thy boundless goodness take some note
That for our crowned heads we have no roof,
Save this which is the lion's, and the bear's,
And vault to every thing.
THESEUS
Pray you kneel not,
I was transported with your speech, and suffer'd
Your knees to wrong themselves. I have heard the fortunes
Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting
As wakes my vengeance, and revenge for 'em.
[To First Queen]
King Capaneus was your lord. The day
That he should marry you, at such a season
As now it is with me, I met your groom
By Mars's altar. You were that time fair;
Not Juno's mantle fairer than your tresses,
Nor in more bounty spread her. Your wheaten wreath
Was then nor threshed nor blasted; Fortune at you
Dimpled her cheek with smiles. Hercules our kinsman,
Then weaker than your eyes, laid by his club.
He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide,
And swore his sinews thawed. O grief, and time,
Fearful consumers, you will all devour.
1 QUEEN
O I hope some God,
Some God hath put his mercy in your manhood
Whereto he'll infuse power, and press you forth
Our undertaker.
THESEUS
O no knees, none, widow.
Unto the helmeted Bellona use them,
And pray for me, your soldier.
Troubled I am.
Turns away.
2. QUEEN
Honoured Hippolyta,
Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slain
The scythe-tusk'd boar; that with thy arm, as strong
As it is white, wast near to make the male
To thy sex captive, but that this thy lord,
Born to uphold creation, in that honour
First nature styled it in, shrunk thee into
The bound thou wast o'erflowing, at once subduing
Thy force, and thy affection -Soldieress,
That equally canst poise sternness with pity,
Whom now I know hast much more power on him
Then ever he had on thee, who ow'st his strength,
And his love too, who is a servant for
The tenor of thy speech; dear glass of ladies:
Bid him that we, whom flaming war doth scorch,
Under the shadow of his sword may cool us.
Require him he advance it o'er our heads.
Speak't in a woman's key; like such a woman
As any of us three. Weep ere you fail; lend us a knee.
But touch the ground for us no longer time
Then a dove's motion, when the head's pluck'd off.
Tell him if he i'th' blood-sized field lay swollen
Showing the sun his teeth; grinning at the moon
What you would do.
HIPPOLYTA
Poor Lady, say no more.
I had as lief trace this good action with you
As that whereto I am going, and never yet
Went I so willing, way. My Lord is taken
Heart-deep with your distress. Let him consider;
I'll speak anon.
3 QUEEN
Kneeling to Emilia
O my petition was
Set down in ice, which by hot grief uncandied
Melts into drops; so sorrow, wanting form,
Is pressed with deeper matter.
EMILIA
Pray stand up,
Your grief is written in your cheek.
3 QUEEN
O woe,
You cannot read it there; there through my tears,
Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream
You may behold 'em. Lady, Lady, alack!
He that will all the treasure know o'th earth
Must know the center too. He that will fish
For my least minnow, let him lead his line
To catch one at my heart. O pardon me,
Extremity that sharpens sundry wits
Makes me a fool.
EMILIA
Pray you, say nothing, pray you.
Who cannot feel, nor see the rain being in't,
Knows neither wet, nor dry. If that you were
The ground-piece of some painter, I would buy you
T' instruct me 'gainst a capital grief, indeed
Such heart pierc'd demonstration; but, alas,
Being a natural sister of our sex,
Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me,
That it shall make a counter-reflect 'gainst
My brother's heart, and warm it to some pity
Though it were made of stone. Pray, have good comfort.
THESEUS
Forward to'th Temple, leave not out a jot
O'th sacred ceremony.
1 QUEEN
O, this celebration
Will longer last, and be more costly than
Your suppliants' war! Remember that your fame
Knolls in the ear o'th world: what you do quickly,
Is not done rashly; your first thought is more
Than others' laboured meditance; your premeditating
More then their actions; but, oh, Jove, your actions,
Soon as they move, as ospreys do the fish,
Subdue before they touch. Think, dear Duke, think
What beds our slain kings have!
2 QUEEN
What griefs our beds
That our dear lords have none.
3 QUEEN
None fit for'th dead:
Those that with cords, knives, drams precipitance,
Weary of this world's light, have to themselves
Been death's most horrid agents, human grace
Affords them dust and shadow.
1 QUEEN
But our lords
Lie blist'ring 'fore the visitating Sun,
And were good kings, when living.
THESEUS
It is true.
And I will give you comfort,
To give your dead lords graves:
The which to do, must make some work with Creon;
1 QUEEN
And that work
Presents itself to' th' doing:
Now 'twill take form; the heats are gone tomorrow.
Then, bootless toil must recompense itself,
With its own sweat; now, he's secure,
Nor dreams we stand before your puissance,
Rinsing our holy begging in our eyes
To make petition clear.
2 QUEEN
Now you may take him,
Drunk with his victory.
3 QUEEN
And his army full
Of bread, and sloth.
THESEUS
Artesius, that best knowest
How to draw out fit to this enterprise,
The prim'st for this proceeding, and the number
To carry such a business: forth and levy
Our worthiest instruments, whilst we despatch
This grand act of our life, this daring deed
Of Fate in wedlock.
1 QUEEN
Dowagers, take hands
Let us be widows to our woes, delay
Commends us to a famishing hope.
All.
Farewell.
2 QUEEN
We come unseasonably, but when could grief
Cull forth, as unpanged judgement can, fitt'st time
For best solicitation?
THESEUS
Why good Ladies,
This is a service, whereto I am going,
Greater then any was; it more imports me
Than all the actions that I have foregone,
Or futurely can cope.
1 QUEEN
The more proclaiming
Our suit shall be neglected, when her arms
Able to lock Jove from a synod, shall
By warranting moonlight corslet thee. Oh, when
Her twinning Cherries shall their sweetness fall
Upon thy tasteful lips, what wilt thou think
Of rotten kings or blubbered queens? What care
For what thou feel'st not, what thou feel'st being able
To make Mars spurn his drum. O if thou couch
But one night with her, every hour in't will
Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and
Thou shalt remember nothing more, then what
That banquet bids thee to.
HIPPOLYTA
Though much unlike
You should be so transported, as much sorry
I should be such a suitor, yet I think,
Did I not, by th' abstaining of my joy
Which breeds a deeper longing, cure their surfeit
That craves a present med'cine, I should pluck
All ladies' scandal on me. Therefore, Sir,
As I shall here make trial of my prayers,
Either presuming them to have some force,
Or sentencing for aye their vigour dumb,
Prorogue this business we are going about, and hang
Your sheild afore your heart, about that neck
Which is my fee, and which I freely lend
To do these poor queens service.
ALL QUEENS
Oh help now.
Our cause cries for your knee.
EMILIA
If you grant not
My sister her petition in that force,
With that celerity and nature which
She makes it in, from henceforth I'll not dare
To ask you any thing, nor be so hardy
Ever to take a husband.
THESEUS
Pray stand up.
I am entreating of myself to do
That which you kneel to have me. Pirithous,
Lead on the bride; get you and pray the gods
For success and return, omit not anything
In the pretended celebration. Queens,
Follow your soldier. [To Officer]
As before -hence, you,
And at the banks of Aulis meet us with
The forces you can raise, where we shall find
The moiety of a number for a business,
More bigger-looked.
[To Hippolyta] Since that our theme is haste
I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip;
Sweet, keep it as my token. Set you forward,
For I will see you gone.
Exeunt towards the Temple.
Farewell, my beauteous sister. Pirithous,
Keep the feast full, bate not an hour on't.
PIRITHOUS
Sir,
I'll follow you at heels; The feast's solemnity
Shall want till your return.
THESEUS
Cousin, I charge you,
Budge not from Athens. We shall be returning
Ere you can end this feast, of which I pray you
Make no abatement. Once more, farewell all.
[Exeunt all except Theseus and Queens]
1 QUEEN
Thus dost thou still make good the tongue o'th world.
2 QUEEN
And earn'st a diety equal with Mars-
3. QUEEN
If not above him, for
Thou being but mortal, mak'st affections bend
To godlike honours; they themselves, some say,
Groan under such a mast'ry.
THESEUS
As we are men,
Thus should we do; being sensually subdued,
We lose our human title. Good cheer, ladies.
Now turn we towards your comforts.
Flourish. Exeunt.
I.ii.
Enter Palamon and Arcite
ARCITE
Dear Palamon, dearer in love then blood,
And our prime cousin, yet unhardned in
The crimes of nature: let us leave the city
Thebes, and the temptings in't, before we further
Sully our gloss of youth.
And here to keep in abstinence we shame
As in incontinence; for not to swim
I'th aide o'th current, were almost to sink,
At least to frustrate striving; and to follow
The common stream, 'twould bring us to an eddy
Where we should turn or drown; if labour through,
Our gain but life and weakness.
PALAMON
Your advice
Is cried up with example; what strange ruins
Since first we went to school, may we perceive
Walking in Thebes? Scars, and bare weeds
The gain o'th martialist, who did propound
To his bold ends honour and golden ingots,
Which, though he won, he had not -and now flurted
By Peace for whom he fought. Who then shall offer
To Mars's so scorn'd altar? I do bleed
When such I meet, and wish great Juno would
Resume her ancient fit of jealousy
To get the soldier work, that Peace might purge
For her repletion and retain anew
Her charitable heart, now hard and harsher
Then strife or war could be.
ARCITE
Are you not out?
Meet you no ruin but the soldier in
The cranks and turns of Thebes? You did begin
As if you met decays of many kinds:
Perceive you none that do arouse your pity
But th' unconsider'd soldier?
PALAMON
Yes, I pity
Decays where'er I find them, but such most
That, sweating in an honourable toil,
Are payed with ice to cool 'em.
ARCITE
'Tis not this
I did begin to speak of. This is virtue,
Of no respect in Thebes; I spake of Thebes.
How dangerous, if we will keep our honours,
It is for our residing where every evil
Hath a good colour, where eve'ry seeming good's
A certain evil; where not to be ev'n jump
As they are here were to be strangers, and,
Such things to be, mere monsters.
PALAMON
'Tis in our power,
(Unless we fear that apes can tutor's) to
Be masters of our manners. What need I
Affect another's gait, which is not catching
Where there is faith, or to be fond upon
Another's way of speech, when by mine own
I may be reasonably conceiv'd, sav'd too,
Speaking it truly? Why am I bound
By any generous bond to follow him
Follows his tailor, haply so long until
The followed make pursuit? Or let me know
Why mine own barber is unbless'd, with him
My poor chin too, for 'tis not scissored just
To such a favorite's glass? What canon is there
That does command my rapier from my hip
To dangle't in my hand, or to go tip toe
Before the street be foul? Either I am
The fore-horse in the team, or I am none
That draw i'th sequent trace. These poor slight sores
Need not a plantain; that which rips my bosom
Almost to'th heart's-
ARCITE
Our Uncle Creon.
PALAMON
He,
A most unbounded tyrant, whose successes
Makes heaven unfear'd and villany assured
Beyond its power there's nothing; almost puts
Faith in a fever and deifies alone
Voluble Chance, who only attributes
The faculties of other instruments
To his own nerves and act; commands men service,
And what they win in't, boot and glory; one
That fears not to do harm; good, dares not. Let
The blood of mine that's sib to him be suck'd
From me with leeches, let them break and fall
Off me with that corruption.
ARCITE
Clear-spirited cousin,
Let's leave his court, that we may nothing share
Of his loud infamy; for our milk
Will relish of the pasture, and we must
Be vile or disobedient: not his kinsmen
In blood unless in quality.
PALAMON
Nothing truer:
I think the echoes of his shames have deaf'd
The ears of heav'nly Justice: Widows' cries
Descend again into their throats and have not
Due audience of the gods.
Enter Valerius.
Valerius!
VALERIUS
The King calls for you; yet be leaden-footed
Till his great rage be off him. Pheobus, when
He broke his whipstock and exclaim'd against
The horses of the sun, but whisper'd to
The loudness of his fury.
PALAMON
Small winds shake him.
But what's the matter?
VALERIUS
Theseus, who, where he threats, appals, hath sent
Deadly defiance to him and pronounces
Ruin to Thebs, who is at hand to seal
The promise of his wrath.
ARCITE
Let him approach.
But that we fear the gods in him, he brings not
A jot of terror to us. Yet what man
Thirds his own worth (the case is each of ours)
When that his actions dregg'd, with mind assured
'Tis bad he goes about?
PALAMON
Leave that unreasond.
Our services stand now for Thebes, not Creon.
Yet to be neutral to him were dishonour,
Rebellious to oppose; therefore we must
With him stand to the mercy of our fate,
Who hath bounded our last minute.
ARCITE
So we must.
Hast said this war's afoot, or, shall it be
On fail of some condition?
VALERIUS
'Tis in motion.
The intelligence of state came in the instant
With the defier.
PALAMON
Let's to the king, who, were he
A quarter carrier of that honour which
His enemy come in, the blood we venture
Should be as for our health, which were not spent,
Rather laid out for purchase; but, alas,
Our hands advanced before our hearts, what will
The fall o'th' stroke do damage?
ARCITE
Let th' event,
That never-erring arbitrator, tell us
When we know all ourselves, and let us follow
The becking of our chance.
Exeunt.
I.iii.
Enter Pirithous, Hippolyta and Emilia.
PIRITHOUS
No further.
HIPPOLYTA
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.
PIRITHOUS
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 peices, keep enthroned
In your dear heart.
EMILIA
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.
HIPPOLYTA
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.
PIRITHOUS
Peace be to you
As I pursue this war, which shall be then
Beyond further requiring.
Exit Pirithous.
EMILIA
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 diff'ring twins. Have you observ'd him,
Since our great lord departed?
HIPPOLYTA
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
Sought out together where Death's self was lodged,
Yet fate hath brought them off. Their knot of love
Tied, weav'd, entangled, with so true, so long,
And with a finger of so deep a cunning
Musicke.
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.
EMILIA
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 enjoyd a play-fellow.
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.
HIPPOLYTA
'Twas Flavina.
EMILIA
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,
Lov'd 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 (oh 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, phoenix-like,
They died in perfume. On my head no toy
But was her pattern, her affections -pretty,
Though happily 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 then in sex dividual.
HIPPOLYTA
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.
EMILIA
I am sure I shall not.
HIPPOLYTA
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.
EMILIA
I am not against your faith,
Yet I continue mine.
Exeunt.
Cornets.
I.iv.
A battle struck within, then a retreat. Flourish. Then enter Theseus
as victor. The three Queens meet him and fall on their faces before him.
1 QUEEN
To thee no star be dark.
2 QUEEN
Both heaven and earth
Friend thee for ever.
3 QUEEN
All the good that may
Be wished upon thy head, I cry Amen to't.
THESEUS
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. What are those?
Exeunt Queens.
HERALD
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.
THEBES
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?
HERALD
Wi' leave, they're called
Arcite and Palamon.
THESEUS
'Tis right, those, those.
They are not dead?
HERALD
Nor in a state of life. Had they been taken
When last their hurts were given, 'twas possible
They might have been recovered; yet they breathe
And have the name of men.
THESEUS
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 then niggard waste. Their lives concern us
Much more then Thebes is worth. Rather then have 'em
Freed of this plight, and in their morning state
(Sound and at liberty) I would 'em dead.
But forty thousand fold, 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,
Loves, 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.
Flourish. Exeunt.
Music
I.v.
Enter the Queens with the hearses of their
Knights, in a funeral solemnity.
[dirge]
Urns and odours bring away,
Vapors, sighs, darken the day;
Our dole more deadly looks than dying
Balms, and gums, and heavy cheers,
Sacred vials filled with tears,
And clamors through the wild air flying.
Come all sad, and solemn shows,
That are quick-eyed Pleasure's foes;
We convent nought else but woes.
We convent nought else but woes.
1 QUEEN
This funeral path brings to your husband's grave:
Joy seize on you again; peace sleep with him.
2 QUEEN
And this to yours.
1 QUEEN
Yours this way. Heavens lend
A thousand differing ways to one sure end.
3 QUEEN
This world's a city full of straying streets,
And death's the market-place where each one meets.
Exeunt severally.
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