First published in 1634, this Jacobean tragicomedy features a plot derived from "The Knight's Tale" in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. The play was originally attributed to both John Fletcher and William Shakespeare; its association with the latter is a longstanding source of controversy that is now generally accepted by scholarly consensus.
First published in 1634, this Jacobean tragicomedy features a plot derived from "The Knight's Tale" in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. The play was originally attributed to both John Fletcher and William Shakespeare; its association with the latter is a longstanding source of controversy that is now generally accepted by scholarly consensus.
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Overview
First published in 1634, this Jacobean tragicomedy features a plot derived from "The Knight's Tale" in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. The play was originally attributed to both John Fletcher and William Shakespeare; its association with the latter is a longstanding source of controversy that is now generally accepted by scholarly consensus.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780486790145 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Dover Publications |
| Publication date: | 04/20/2015 |
| Series: | Dover Thrift Editions: Plays |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 112 |
| File size: | 1 MB |
About the Author
Date of Death:
2018Place of Birth:
Stratford-upon-Avon, United KingdomPlace of Death:
Stratford-upon-Avon, United KingdomRead an Excerpt
The Two Noble Kinsmen
By WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Alison Daurio
Dover Publications, Inc.
Copyright © 2015 Dover Publications, Inc.All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-486-79014-5
CHAPTER 1
ACT I.
Scene I. Athens. Before a Temple.
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; Artesius and Attendants.
Song by the Boy.
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 spring-time's harbinger,
With hare-bells dim;
Oxlips in their cradles growing, [10]
Marigolds on death-beds blowing,
And larks'-heels trim;
All dear Nature's children sweet,
Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,
Blessing their sense! [strewing flowers.
Not an angel of the air,
Bird melodious or bird fair,
Be absent hence!
The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor
The boding raven, nor chough hoar, [20]
Nor chattering pie,
May on our bride-house perch or sing,
Or with them any discord bring,
But from it fly!
Enter three Queens, in black, with veils stained, and wearing 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.
First Queen. For pity's sake and true gentility's, Hear, and respect me!
Sec. Queen. For your mother's sake, And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair ones, Hear, and respect me!
Third Queen. Now, for the love of him whom Jove hath mark'd The honour of your bed, and for the sake [30] 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.
Thes. Sad lady, rise.
Hip. Stand up.
Emi. No knees to me: What woman I may stead that is distress'd Does bind me to her.
Thes. What's your request? deliver you for all.
First Queen. We are three queens, whose sovereigns fell before The wrath of cruel Creon; who endure [40] The beaks of ravens, talons of the kites, And pecks of crows, in the foul field 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 Phoebus, but infects the winds With stench of our slain lords. O, pity, Duke! Thou purger of the Earth, draw thy fear'd sword, That does good turns to th' world; give us the bones Of our dead kings, that we may chapel them; [50] And, of thy boundless goodness, take some note That for our crownèd heads we have no roof Save this, which is the lion's and the bear's, And vault to every thing!
Thes. Pray you, kneel not: I was transported with your speech, and suffer'd Your knees to wrong themselves. I've heard the fortunes Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting As wakes my vengeance and revenge for 'em. King Capanëus was your lord: the day That he should marry you, at such a season [60] 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; your wheaten wreath Was then nor thresh'd 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 thaw'd. O, grief and time, Fearful consumers, you will all devour! [70]
First 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!
Thes. O, no knees, none, widow! Unto the helmeted Bellona use them, And pray for me, your soldier. — Troubled I am. [turns away.
Sec. Queen. Honour'd 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 [80] 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; Who now, I know, hast much more power on him Than e'er he had on thee; who owest his strength And his love too, who is a servant to The tenor of thy speech; dear glass of ladies, [90] 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 Than a dove's motion, when the head's pluck'd off; Tell him, if he i' the blood-sized field lay swoln, Showing the Sun his teeth, grinning at th' Moon, [100] What you would do!
Hip. Poor lady, say no more: I had as lief trace this good action with you As that whereto I'm going, and ne'er yet Went I so willing way. My lord is taken Heart-deep with your distress: let him consider; I'll speak anon.
Third Queen. [to Emilia.] O, my petition was Set down in ice, which, by hot grief uncandied, Melts into drops; so sorrow, wanting form, Is press'd with deeper matter.
Emi. Pray, stand up: Your grief is written in your cheek.
Third Queen. O, woe! [110] You cannot read it there; there, through my tears, Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream, You may behold it. Lady, lady, alack, He that will all the treasure know o' the Earth Must know the centre 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.
Emi. Pray you, say nothing; pray you: Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in 't, [120] 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-pierced 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.
Thes. Forward to th' temple! leave not out a jot [130] O' the sacred ceremony.
First Queen. O, this celebration Will longer last, and be more costly, than Your suppliant's war. Remember that your fame Knolls in the ear o' the world: what you do quickly Is not done rashly; your first thought is more Than others' labour'd meditance; your premeditating More than their actions: but — O Jove! — your actions, Soon as they move, as ospreys do the fish, Subdue before they touch:14 think, dear Duke, think What beds our slain kings have!
Sec. Queen. What griefs our beds, [140] That our dear lords have none!
Third 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.
First Queen. But our lords Lie blistering 'fore the visitating Sun, And were good kings when living.
Thes. 'Tis true; and I will give you comfort, To give your dead lords graves: the which to do Must make some work with Creon. [150]
First Queen. And that work now presents itself to th' doing; Now 'twill take form; the heats are gone to-morrow: 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.
Sec. Queen. Now you may take him Drunk with his victory.
Third Queen. And his army full Of bread and sloth.
Thes. Artesius, that best know'st How to draw out, fit to this enterprise [160] The primest for this proceeding, and the number To carry such a business; forth and levy Our worthiest instruments; whilst we dispatch This grand act of our life, this daring deed Of fate in wedlock.
First Queen. Dowagers, take hands: Let us be widows to our woes; delay Commends us to a famishing hope.
All the queens. Farewell!
Sec. Queen. We come unseasonably; but when could grief Cull forth, as unpang'd judgment can, fitt'st time For best solicitation?
Thes. Why, good ladies, [170] This is a service, whereto I am going, Greater than any war; it more imports me Than all the actions that I have foregone, Or futurely can cope.
First 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, O, when Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall Upon thy tasteful lips, what wilt thou think Of rotten kings or blubber'd queens? what care [180] 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 than what That banquet bids thee to!
Hip. [kneeling.] Though much I like 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 [190] That craves a present medicine, 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 shield afore your heart, about that neck Which is my fee, and which I freely lend To do these poor queens service.
All the queens. [to Emilia.] O, help now! Our cause cries for your knee.
Emi. [kneeling.] If you grant not [200] 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.
Thes. Pray, stand up: [they rise. 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 any thing In the pretended celebration. — Queens, [210] Follow your soldier. — [To Artesius.] As before, hence you, And at the banks of Ilisse meet us with The forces you can raise, where we shall find The moiety of a number, for a business More bigger-look'd. — Since that our theme is haste, I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip;
[Kisses Hippolyta.
Sweet, keep it as my token. — Set you forward; For I will see you gone. [Exit Artesius. Farewell, my beauteous sister. — Pirithous, Keep the feast full; bate not an hour on 't.
Pir. Sir, [220] I'll follow you at heels: the feast's solemnity Shall wait till your return.
Thes. 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.
[Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous, Hymen, Boy, Nymphs, and Attendants enter the temple.
First Queen. Thus dost thou still make good The tongue o' the world.
Sec. Queen. And earn'st a deity Equal with Mars.
Third Queen. If not above him; for Thou, being but mortal, makest affections bend To godlike honours: they themselves, some say, [230] Groan under such a mastery. 232
Thes. 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.
Scene II. Thebes. The Court of the Palace.
Enter Palamon and Arcite.
Arc. Dear Palamon, dearer in love than blood, And our prime cousin, yet unharden'd 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 were shame As in incontinence; for not to swim I' the aid o' the current, were almost to sink, At least to frustrate striving; and to follow The common stream, 'twould bring us to an eddy [10] Where we should turn or drown; if labour through, Our gain but life and weakness.
Pal. 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' the 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 [20] 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 reclaim anew Her charitable heart, now hard, and harsher Than strife or war could be.
Arc. 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, [30] But th' unconsider'd soldier?
Pal. Yes; I pity Decays where'er I find them; but such most That, sweating in an honourable toil, Are paid with ice to cool 'em.
Arc. '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 every seeming good 's A certain evil; where not to be even jump [40] As they are here, were to be strangers, and Such things to be mere monsters.
Pal. '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 conceived, saved too, Speaking it truly? Why am I bound By any generous bond to follow him [50] Follows his tailor, haply so long until The follow'd make pursuit? or let me know Why mine own barber is unblest, with him My poor chin too, for 'tis not scissar'd just To such a favourite'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' the sequent trace. These poor slight sores [60] Need not a plaintain; that which rips my bosom, Almost to th' heart, 's —
Arc. Our uncle Creon.
Pal. He, A most unbounded tyrant, whose successes Make Heaven unfear'd, and villainy assured Beyond its power there's nothing; almost puts Faith in a fever, and deifies alone Voluble chance; who only áttributes The faculties of other instruments To his own nerves and act; commands men's service, And what they win in 't boot and glory too; [70] 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!
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Two Noble Kinsmen by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Alison Daurio. Copyright © 2015 Dover Publications, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of Dover Publications, Inc..
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Table of Contents
Contents
Act I,Scene I. Athens. Before a Temple,
Scene II. Thebes. The Court of the Palace,
Scene III. Before the Gates of Athens,
Scene IV. A Field before Thebes. Dead bodies lying on the ground; among them Palamon and Arcite,
Scene V. Another Part of the Field, More Remote from Thebes,
Act II,
Scene I. Athens. A Garden, with a Castle in the Background,
Scene II. A Room in the Prison,
Scene III. The Country Near Athens,
Scene IV. Athens. A Room in the Prison,
Scene V. An Open Place in Athens. A Short Flourish of Cornets, and Shouts Within,
Scene VI. Athens. Before the Prison,
Act III,
Scene I. A Forest near Athens. Cornets in sundry places: noise and hallooing as of People a-Maying,
Scene II. Another Part of the Forest,
Scene III. The Same Part of the Forest as in Scene I,
Scene IV. Another Part of the Forest,
Scene V. Another Part of the Forest,
Scene VI. The Same Part of the Forest as in Scene III,
Act IV,
Scene I. Athens. A Room in the Prison,
Scene II. Athens. An Apartment in the Palace,
Scene III. Athens. A Room in the Prison,
Act V,
Scene I. Athens. A Court Before the Temples of Mars, Venus, and Diana,
Scene II. Athens. A Room in the Prison,
Scene III. A Part of the Forest Near Athens, and Near the Place Appointed for the Combat,
Scene IV. The Same Part of the Forest as in Act III, Scene VI,