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.

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.