The two noble kinsmen, p.27
The Two Noble Kinsmen, page 27
30 PALAMON You speak well.
Before I turn, let me embrace thee, cousin.
This I shall never do again.
ARCITE One farewell.
PALAMON
Why, let it be so. Farewell, coz.
ARCITE Farewell, sir.
Exeunt Palamon and his knights.
[Arcite addresses his three knights.]
Knights, kinsmen, lovers – yea, my sacrifices –
35 True worshippers of Mars, whose spirit in you
Expels the seeds of fear and th’apprehension
Which still is father of it: go with me
Before the god of our profession; there
Require of him the hearts of lions and
40 The breath of tigers, yea the fierceness too,
Yea, the speed also – to go on, I mean:
Else wish we to be snails. You know my prize
Must be dragged out of blood; force and great feat
Must put my garland on, where she sticks
45 The queen of flowers. Our intercession then
Must be to him that makes the camp a cistern
Brimmed with the blood of men. Give me your aid
And bend your spirits towards him.
They [prostrate themselves before the altar, then] kneel.
Thou mighty one, that with thy power hast turned
50 Green Neptune into purple; whose approach
Comets prewarn; whose havoc in vast field
Unearthed skulls proclaim; whose breath blows down
The teeming Ceres’ foison; who dost pluck
With hand armipotent from forth blue clouds
55 The masoned turrets; that both mak’st and break’st
The stony girths of cities: me thy pupil,
Youngest follower of thy drum, instruct this day
With military skill, that to thy laud
I may advance my streamer and by thee
60 Be styled the lord o’th’ day. Give me, great Mars,
Some token of thy pleasure.
Here they fall on their faces, as formerly, and there is heard clanging of armour, with a short thunder, as the burst of a battle, whereupon they all rise and bow to the altar.
Oh great corrector of enormous times;
Shaker of o’er-rank states; thou grand decider
Of dusty and old titles, that heal’st with blood
65 The earth when it is sick and cur’st the world
O’th’ pleurisy of people: I do take
Thy signs auspiciously and in thy name
To my design march boldly. Let us go.
Exeunt [Arcite and his knights].
Enter PALAMON and his knights, with the former observance.
PALAMON
Our stars must glister with new fire or be
70 Today extinct. Our argument is love,
Which, if the goddess of it grant, she gives
Victory too; then blend your spirits with mine,
You whose free nobleness do make my cause
Your personal hazard. To the goddess Venus
75 Commend we our proceeding and implore
Her power unto our party. Here they kneel as formerly.
Hail, sovereign queen of secrets, who hast power
To call the fiercest tyrant from his rage
And weep unto a girl; that hast the might,
80 Even with an eye-glance, to choke Mars’s drum
And turn th’alarm to whispers; that canst make
A cripple flourish with his crutch and cure him
Before Apollo; that mayst force the king
To be his subject’s vassal and induce
85 Stale gravity to dance! The polled bachelor–
Whose youth, like wanton boys through bonfires,
Have skipped thy flame – at seventy, thou canst catch
And make him, to the scorn of his hoarse throat,
Abuse young lays of love. What godlike power
90 Hast thou not power upon? To Phoebus thou
Add’st flames hotter than his: the heavenly fires
Did scorch his mortal son, thine him; the huntress
All moist and cold, some say, began to throw
Her bow away and sigh. Take to thy grace
95 Me thy vowed soldier, who do bear thy yoke
As ’twere a wreath of roses, yet is heavier
Than lead itself, stings more than nettles.
I have never been foul-mouthed against thy law;
Ne’er revealed secret, for I knew none – would not,
100 Had I kenned all there were. I never practised
Upon man’s wife nor would the libels read
Of liberal wits. I never at great feasts
Sought to betray a beauty, but have blushed
At simpering sirs that did. I have been harsh
105 To large confessors and have hotly asked them
If they had mothers – I had one, a woman,
And women ’twere they wronged. I knew a mar
Of eighty winters, this I told them, who
A lass of fourteen brided. ’Twas thy power
110 To put life into dust: the aged cramp
Had screwed his square foot round;
The gout had knit his fingers into knots,
Torturing convulsions from his globy eyes
Had almost drawn their spheres, that what was life
115 In him seemed torture. This anatomy
Had by his young fair fere a boy, and I
Believed it was his, for she swore it was –
And who would not believe her? Brief, I am,
To those that prate and have done, no companion;
120 To those that boast and have not, a defier;
To those that would and cannot, a rejoicer.
Yea, him I do not love that tells close offices
The foulest way nor names concealments in
The boldest language. Such a one I am
125 And vow that lover never yet made sigh
Truer than I. Oh, then, most soft sweet goddess,
Give me the victory of this question, which
Is true love’s merit, and bless me with a sign
Of thy great pleasure.
Here music is heard; doves are seen to flutter. They fall again upon their faces, then [rise to] their knees.
130 Oh thou that from eleven to ninety reign’st
In mortal bosoms, whose chase is this world
And we in herds thy game: I give thee thanks
For this fair token, which, being laid unto
Mine innocent true heart, arms in assurance
135 My body to this business. Let us rise
And bow before the goddess. They [rise and] bow.
Time comes on.
Exeunt [Palamon and his knights].
Still music of recorders. Enter EMILIA in white, her hair about her shoulders, wearing a wheaten wreath. One [maid] in white holding up her train, her hair stuck with flowers. One [maid] before her carrying a silver hind, in which is conveyed incense and sweet odours, which being set upon the altar, her maids standing aloof, she sets fire to it. Then they curtsey and kneel.
EMILIA
O sacred, shadowy, cold and constant queen,
Abandoner of revels, mute contemplative,
Sweet, solitary, white as chaste, and pure
140 As wind-fanned snow, who to thy female knights
Allow’st no more blood than will make a blush,
Which is their order’s robe: I here, thy priest,
Am humbled ‘fore thine altar. Oh, vouchsafe
With that thy rare green eye, which never yet
145 Beheld thing maculate, look on thy virgin;
And, sacred silver mistress, lend thine ear,
Which ne’er heard scurrile term, into whose port
Ne’er entered wanton sound, to my petition
Seasoned with holy fear. This is my last
150 Of vestal office. I am bride-habited,
But maiden-hearted; a husband I have ‘pointed,
But do not know him. Out of two, I should
Choose one and pray for his success, but I
Am guiltless of election. Of mine eyes,
155 Were I to lose one, they are equal precious;
I could doom neither: that which perished should
Go to’t unsentenced. Therefore, most modest Queen,
He of the two pretenders that best loves me
And has the truest title in’t, let him
160 Take off my wheaten garland, or else grant
The file and quality I hold I may
Continue in thy band.
Here the hind vanishes under the altar and in the place ascends a rose tree, having one rose upon it.
See what our general of ebbs and flows,
Out from the bowels of her holy altar,
165 With sacred art advances: but one rose!
If well inspired, this battle shall confound
Both these brave knights and I, a virgin flower,
Must grow alone, unplucked.
Here is heard a sudden twang of instruments, and the rose falls from the tree [,which then descends].
The flower is fall’n; the tree descends. Oh, mistress,
170 Thou here dischargest me; I shall be gathered –
I think so – but I know not thine own will;
Unclasp thy mystery! – I hope she’s pleased;
Her signs were gracious. They curtsey and exeunt.
[5.2] Enter Doctor, Jailer and Wooer in the habit of Palamon.
DOCTOR
Has this advice I told you done any good upon her?
WOOER
Oh, very much. The maids that kept her company
Have half persuaded her that I am Palamon.
Within this half hour she came smiling to me
5 And asked me what I would eat and when I would kiss her.
I told her, ‘Presently!’ and kissed her twice.
DOCTOR
’Twas well done. Twenty times had been far better,
For there the cure lies mainly.
WOOER Then she told me
She would watch with me tonight, for well she knew
What hour my fit would take me.
10 DOCTOR Let her do so.
And, when your fit comes, fit her home, and presently.
WOOER
She would have me sing.
DOCTOR
You did so?
WOOER No.
DOCTOR ’Twas very ill-done then;
You should observe her every way.
WOOER Alas,
15 I have no voice, sir, to confirm her that way.
DOCTOR
That’s all one, if ye make a noise.
If she entreat again, do anything.
Lie with her if she ask you.
JAILER Whoa there, Doctor!
DOCTOR
Yes, in the way of cure.
JAILER But first, by your leave,
I’th’ way of honesty.
20 DOCTOR That’s but a niceness.
Ne’er cast your child away for honesty.
Cure her first this way; then if she will be honest,
She has the path before her.
JAILER Thank ye, Doctor.
DOCTOR
Pray bring her in and let’s see how she is.
JAILER
25 I will, and tell her
Her Palamon stays for her. But, Doctor,
Methinks you are i’th’ wrong still. Exit Jailer.
DOCTOR Go, go,
You fathers are fine fools. Her honesty?
An we should give her physic till we find that!
WOOER
30 Why, do you think she is not honest, sir?
DOCTOR
How old is she?
WOOER She’s eighteen.
DOCTOR She may be,
But that’s all one, ’tis nothing to our purpose.
Whate’er her father says, if you perceive
Her mood inclining that way that I spoke of,
35 Videlicet, the ‘way of flesh’ – you have me?
WOOER
Yes, very well, sir.
DOCTOR Please her appetite
And do it home, it cures her, ipso facto,
The melancholy humour that infects her.
WOOER
I am of your mind, Doctor.
Enter Jailer, Daughter and Maid.
DOCTOR
40 You’ll find it so. She comes; pray, humour her.
JAILER
Come, your love Palamon stays for you, child,
And has done this long hour, to visit you.
DAUGHTER
I thank him for his gentle patience;
He’s a kind gentleman and I am much bound to him.
Did you ne’er see the horse he gave me?
45 JAILER Yes.
DAUGHTER
How do you like him?
JAILER He’s a very fair one.
DAUGHTER
You never saw him dance?
JAILER No.
DAUGHTER I have, often.
He dances very finely, very comely,
And for a jig, come cut and long tail to him,
He turns ye like a top.
50 JAILER That’s fine indeed.
DAUGHTER
He’ll dance the morris twenty mile an hour –
And that will founder the best hobby-horse,
If I have any skill, in all the parish –
And gallops to the tune of ‘Light o’ love’.
What think you of this horse?
55 JAILER Having these virtues
I think he might be brought to play at tennis.
DAUGHTER
Alas, that’s nothing.
JAILER Can he read and write too?
DAUGHTER
A very fair hand, and casts himself th’accounts
Of all his hay and provender. That ostler
60 Must rise betimes that cozens him. You know
The chestnut mare the Duke has?
JAILER Very well.
DAUGHTER
She is horribly in love with him, poor beast!
But he is like his master, coy and scornful.
JAILER
What dowry has she?
DAUGHTER Some two hundred bottles
65 And twenty strike of oats – but he’ll ne’er have her.
He lisps in’s neighing, able to entice
A miller’s mare. He’ll be the death of her.
DOCTOR
What stuff she utters!
JAILER
Make curtsey, here your love comes.
[Wooer comes forward and bows.]
WOOER Pretty soul,
How do ye? [She curtseys.]
70 That’s a fine maid! There’s a curtsey!
DAUGHTER
Yours to command i’th’ way of honesty.
How far is’t now to th’end o’th’ world, my masters?
DOCTOR
Why, a day’s journey, wench.
DAUGHTER [to Wooer] Will you go with me?
WOOER
What shall we do there, wench?
DAUGHTER Why, play at stool-ball;
What is there else to do?
75 WOOER I am content,
If we shall keep our wedding there.
DAUGHTER ’Tis true,
For there, I will assure you, we shall find
Some blind priest for the purpose, that will venture
To marry us, for here they are nice and foolish.
80 Besides, my father must be hanged tomorrow
And that would be a blot i’th’ business.
Are not you Palamon?
WOOER Do not you know me?
DAUGHTER
Yes, but you care not for me. I have nothing
But this poor petticoat and two coarse smocks.
WOOER
That’s all one; I will have you.
85 DAUGHTER Will you surely?
WOOER
Yes, by this fair hand, will I. [Takes her hand.]
DAUGHTER We’ll to bed then.
WOOER
E’en when you will. [Kisses her.]
DAUGHTER [Rubs off the kiss.]
Oh, sir, you would fain be nibbling.
WOOER
Why do you rub my kiss off?
DAUGHTER ’Tis a sweet one
And will perfume me finely against the wedding.
Is not this your cousin Arcite? [Indicates the Doctor.]
90 DOCTOR Yes, sweetheart,
And I am glad my cousin Palamon
Has made so fair a choice.
DAUGHTER [to Doctor] Do you think he’ll have me?
DOCTOR
Yes, without doubt.
DAUGHTER [to Jailer] Do you think so too?
JAILER Yes.
DAUGHTER
We shall have many children. [to Doctor]
Lord, how you’re grown!
95 My Palamon, I hope, will grow too, finely,
Now he’s at liberty. Alas, poor chicken,
He was kept down with hard meat and ill lodging!
But I’ll kiss him up again.
Enter Messenger.
MESSENGER
What do you here? You’ll lose the noblest sight
That e’er was seen.
JAILER Are they i’th’ field?
100 MESSENGER They are.
You bear a charge there too.
JAILER I’ll away straight.
I must e’en leave you here.
DOCTOR Nay, we’ll go with you;
I will not lose the sight.
JAILER [to Doctor] How did you like her?
DOCTOR
I’ll warrant you, within these three or four days
I’ll make her right again. [Exit Jailer with Messenger.]
105 [to Wooer] You must not from her,
But still preserve her in this way.
WOOER I will.
DOCTOR
Let’s get her in.
WOOER [to Daughter]
Come, sweet, we’ll go to dinner
And then we’ll play at cards.
DAUGHTER And shall we kiss too?
WOOER A hundred times.
DAUGHTER And twenty?
WOOER Ay, and twenty.
DAUGHTER And then we’ll sleep together.
110 DOCTOR Take her offer.
WOOER [to Daughter]
Yes, marry, will we.
DAUGHTER But you shall not hurt me.
WOOER
I will not, sweet.
DAUGHTER If you do, love, I’ll cry. Exeunt.
[5.3] Flourish. Enter THESEUS, HIPPOLYTA, EMILIA, PIRITHOUS and attendants.
EMILIA
I’ll no step further.
PIRITHOUS Will you lose this sight?
EMILIA
I had rather see a wren hawk at a fly
Than this decision. Every blow that falls
Threats a brave life; each stroke laments
5 The place whereon it falls and sounds more like
