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Employes, on quitting the service of the Depaitment, must retuni all books in their possession belonging to the Libiary. Final payment of their salaries will be withheld by the Disbursing Officer until he is sati.stied that all books charged against thein at the Library have been returned. 16. For infringements of any of the above rules the Libiarian is authoiized to suspend or refu.se the issue of books to the culpable persons. By order of the Secretary : GEO. M. LOCKWOOD, Chief Cleric. (13599— 10 M.) « 6 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. LIBRARY , ,f P 2] I8H5 ! WRITTEN BY[ //(vr'f (][' fflfs 5]\Tff!pT)Tp;) I THE MEMORABLE WORTHIES OF THEIR TIME,' ' '" ' Mr. JOHN FLETCHER and ) " >• Gent. Mr. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, ) Edited, with Notes, By WILLIAM J. ROLFE, A.M., FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. WITH BNGRA VINGS. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS', PUBLISHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE. 1884. \9 ENGLISH CLASSICS. Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, A.M. Illustrated. i6mo, Cloth, 56 cents per volume ; Paper, 40 cents per volume. Shakespeake's Works. The Merchant of Venice. The Taming of the Shrew. Othello.^ All ;s Well that Ends Well. Julius CjEsar. Coriolanus. A Midsummer-Night's Dream. The Comedy of Errors. Macbeth. Cymbeline. Hamlet. Antony and Cleopatra. Much Ado about Nothing. Measure for Measure. Romeo and Juliet. Merry Wives of Windsor. As You Like It. Love's Labour 's Lost. The Tempest. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Twelfth Night. Timon of Athens. The Winter's Tale. Troilus and Cressida. King John. Henry VI. Part I. Richard II. Henry VI. Part II. Henry IV. Part I. Henry VI. Part IIL Henry IV. Part II. Pericles, Prince of Tyre. Henry V. The Two Noble Kinsmen. Richard TIT. Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, etc. Henry VIII. Sonnets. King Lear. Titus Andronicus. Goldsmith's J select Poems. Gray's Sel ECT Poems. Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 15^^ Anjy of the above works will be se nt by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, on receipt of the price. Copyright, 1883, by Harper & Brothers. PREFACE. I HAVE included The Two Noble Kinsmen in this edition of Shake- speare's works because, as I have said below (see p. 21), he appears to have some share in the composition of the play. I have nothing to add here to the discussion of that question except a few paragraphs from Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps's Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare (2d ed. 1882), which would have been included in the Introduction if I had seen them in time. He states concisely "the main external testimonies on each side of the question ;" and among the " reasons for believing that the great dramatist had no share whatever in the composition" are the following: " I. When John Waterson, in October, 1646, transferred to Humphrey Moseley his copyright interests in three plays— 77?^ Elder Brother, Mon- sieur Thomas, and The Two Noble Kinsmen — the undivided authorship of all of them is distinctly assigned to Fletcher in the register, the third appearing there under the title of The Noble Kinsman. The Fletcherian authorship of the two other dramas is undisputed ; and if Waterson really believed that Shakespeare had written part of the last, there seems no reason why the name of the great dramatist should not have been given in the entry of the assignment. ... 2. In a list of books printed for Moseley, which is inserted at the end of some copies of Shirley's Six New Playes, 1653, occurs ' the Two Noble Kinsmen, a comedy written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, gent, in 4°.' The same entry is met with the following year in a similar list of the works of the same publisher, these announcements singularly contrasting with his trading anxiety to use the name of Shakespeare improperly in other instances. It should be carefully recollected \. i., 1865) has also taken the ground that Shakespeare could not have been " associated in the pro- duction of a play so different from the works of his maturity." II. THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT. The story of the play, as the prologue states, is taken from Chaucer, who gives it in his Knightes Tale. He got it, as he acknowledges, from the Teseide of Boccaccio, who calls it a very old story (" una antichissima storia "). The names in it indicate that it was originally from the Greek (cf. Mr. Hales's letter in the London Academy, Jan. 17, 1874). It had been dramatized in English twice at least before the time of Shakespeare, though there is no ground what- ever for supposing that the authors of The Two Noble Kins- men were indebted to either of the earlier plays. In 1566 a drama called Falcemon and Arcyte, by Richard Edwardes, was performed before Queen Elizabeth at Oxford. Wood's account in the Athence Oxofiie?ises mentions the play several times, but the following passages, communicated to Nicholls, * Shakeipeare- Commentaries, translated by Bunnett (ed. of 1875), P- 828. INTRODUCTION. 25 the historian of Elizabeth's Progresses, by Mr. Giitch, from Wood's MSS., are more detailed, and clearly show that Ed- wardes's play and the play before us must have differed so materially as to make it almost certain that the authors of the latter can have known nothing of the former. Part of the play was performed on Sept. 2, 1566, when a scaffolding fell, and three lives were lost. Wood continues : " Sept. 4, 1566. At night the Queen was present at the other part of the play of Palcemon and Arcyte, which should have been acted the night before, but deferred because it was late when the Queen came from disputations at St. Mary's. When the play was ended, she called for Mr. Edwards, the author and gave him very great thanks, with promises of reward, for his pains : then making a pause, said to him and her retinue standing about her, this relating to part of the play: 'By Palaemon, I warrant he dallieth not in love when he was in love indeed ; by Arcyte, he was a right martial knight, having a sweet countenance, and a manly face ; by Trecatio, God's pity, what a knave it is ; by Perithous, throwing St. Edward's rich cloak into the funeral fire, which a stander-by would have stayed by the arm with an oath, he knoweth his part, I warrant' In the said play was acted a cry of hounds in the Quadrant, upon the train of a fox in the hunting of Theseus, with which the young scholars, who stood in the windows, were so much taken (supposing it was real), that they cried out, ' Now, now ! — there, there ! — he's caught, he's caught !' All which the Queen merrily beholding, said, ' O, excellent ! those boys, in very troth, are ready to leap out of the windows to follow the hounds !' .... In the acting of the said play there was a good part performed by the Lady Amelia, who, for gathering her flowers prettily in a garden there represented, and singing sweetly in the time of March, received eight angels for a gracious reward by her Majesty's command," etc. Of the other old play we know nothing except (from 2 6 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Henslowe's Diary) that it was entitled Palamon afid Arstit, and was acted several times at the Newington Theatre in 1594. Collier conjectures that it was based upon the play of 1566, and that it was in turn remodelled by Shakespeare, who introduced into it the matter afterwards "employed by Fletcher in the play as it was printed in 1634;" but this is speculating rather wildly on the mere mention of a play in a manager's list.* The origin of the underplot cannot be traced. There is no hint of it in Chaucer, and we have no reason to suppose that it came from the play of 1594. It may have been the invention of the authors. III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY. [From Knight'' s ^^ Pictorial Shakspere.''''\\ The Kfiightes Tale of Chaucer opens with the return to Athens of the " duke that highte Theseus," after he had " conquer'd all the regne of Feminie, That whilom was ycleped Scythia, And wedded the freshe queen Hypolita, And brought her home with him to his countrey With muchel glory and great solempnitie, And eke her younge sister Emelie." The Two Noble Kmsfnen opens with Theseus at Athens, in the company of Hippolyta and her sister, proceeding to the * Hickson, by the way, ascribes this speculation to Dyce, who quotes it from Collier only to condemn it ; and Skeat in turn apparently mis- understands Hickson, who, he says, " needlessly assumes that Henslowe is here referring to The Two Noble Kinsmen.'''' What Hickson says, after finding fault with "Dyce" (that is, Collier) for "arguing upon a hypothetical play [Shakespeare's supposed revision of the one men- tioned by Henslowe] which, so far as we know, never existed," is this : "In Henslowe's Diary we find the following entry: '17 of September, 1594, ne Rd at palamon and arsett Ijs ;' we have the Ttvo Noble Kinsmen before us : and there is not a tittle of evidence besides." t Doubtful Flays, etc. (2d ed. 1867), p. 171 fol. We select the passages that give the analysis of the play as compared with The Kfiightes Tale. INTRODUCTIONr 27 celebration of his marriage with the "dreaded Amazonian." Their bridal procession is interrupted by the " three queens, whose sovereigns fell before The wrath of cruel Creon." In Chaucer the suppliants are a more numerous company. As Theseus was approaching Athens, " He was ware, as he cast his eye aside, Where that there kneeled in the highe way A company of ladies tway and tway. Each after other, clad in clothes black ; But such a cry and such a woe they make, That in this world n'is creature living That ever heard such another waimenting." Briefly they tell their tale of woe, and as rapidly does the chivalrous duke resolve to avenge their wrongs : " And right anon, withouten more abode. His banner he display'd, and forth he rode To Thebes ward, and all his host beside." The Queen and her sister remained at Athens. Out of this rapid narration, which occupies little more than a hundred lines in Chaucer, has the first scene of The Two Noble Kins- men been constructed. Assuredly, the reader who opens that scene for the first time will feel that he has lighted upon a work of no ordinary power. The mere interruption of the bridal procession by the widowed queens — the con- trast of their black garments and their stained veils with the white robes and wheaten chaplets and hymeneal songs with wdiich the play opens — is a noble dramatic conception ; but the poet, whoever he be, possesses that command of appro- priate language which realizes all that the imagination can paint of a dramatic situation and movement ; there is noth- ing shadowy or indistinct, no vague explanations, no trivial epithets. When the First Queen says — 28 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. " Oh, pity, duke ! TAou purger of the earth, draw thy fear'd sword, That does good turns to the world ; give us the bones Of our dead kings, that we may chapel them :" we know that the thoughts which belong to her condition are embodied in words of no common significancy. When the Second Queen, addressing Hippolyta," the soldieress," says — " 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 plucW d offP we feel that the poet not only wields his harmonious lan- guage with the decision of a practised artist, but exhibits the nicer touches which attest his knowledge of natural feelings, and employs images which, however strange and unfamiliar, are so true that we wonder they never occurred to us before, but at the same time so original that they appear to defy copying or imitation. The whole scene is full of the same remarkable word-painting. There is another quality which it exhibits, which is also peculiar to the highest order of minds — the ability to set us thinking — to excite that just and appropriate reflection which might arise of itself out of the exhibition of deep passions and painful struggles and resolute self-denials, but which the true poet breathes into us without an effort, so as to give the key to our thoughts, but utterly avoiding those sententious moralizings which are sometimes deemed to be the province of tragedy. When the Queens commend the surrender which Theseus makes of his affections to a sense of duty, the poet gives us the philosophy of such heroism in a dozen words spoken by 1 heseus : .< ^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^ Thus should we do ; being sensually stibdued. We lose our hutnan title."" The first appearance, in Chaucer, of Palamon and Arcite INTRO D UCTION. 29 is when they lie wounded on the battle-field of Thebes. In The Two Noble Kinsmen the necessary conduct of the story, as a drama, requires that the principal personages should be exhibited to us before they become absorbed in the main action. It is on such occasions as these that a dramatist of the highest order makes his characters reveal themselves, naturally and without an effort; and yet so distinctly, that their individual identity is impressed upon the mind, so as to combine with the subsequent movement of the plot. The second scene oi The Two Noble Kinsmen appears to us some- what deficient in this power. It is written with great energy; but the two friends are energetic alike: we do not precisely see which is the more excitable, the more daring, the more resolved, the more generous. We could change the names of the speakers without any material injury to the propriety of what they speak. Take, as an opposite example, Hermia and Helena, in A Midsummer-Nighf s Dream, where the dif- ferences of character scarcely required to be so nicely de- fined. And yet in description the author of The Two Noble Kinsmen makes Palamon and Arcite essentially different : " Arcite is gently visag'd : yet his eye Is like an engine bent, or a sharp weapon In a soft sheath ; mercy and manly courage Are bedfellows in his visage. Palamon Has a most menacing aspect ; his brow Is grav'd, and seems to bury what it frowns on ; Yet sometimes 't is not so, but alters to The quality of his thoughts -, long time his eye Will dwell upon his object ; melancholy Becomes him nobly ; so does Arcite's mirth ; But Palamon's sadness is a kind of mirth, So mingled, as if mirth did make him sad. And sadness, merry ; those darker humours that ^ Stick misbecomingly on others, on him Live in fair dwelling." This is noble writing; and it is quite sufficient to enable the stage representation of the two characters to be well defined. 30 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Omit it, and omit the recollections of it in the reading, and we doubt greatly whether the characters themselves realize this description ; they are not self-evolved and manifested. The third scene, also, is a dramatic addition to the tale of Chaucer. It keeps the interest concentrated upon Hippo- lyta, and especially Emilia; it is not essential to the action, but it is a graceful addition to it. It has the merit, too, of developing the character of Emilia, and so to reconcile us to the apparent coldness with which she is subsequently content to receive the triumphant rival, whichever he be, as her husband. The Queen and her sister talk of the friend- ship of Theseus and Perithous. Emilia tells the story of her own friendship, to prove " That the true love 'tween maid and maid may be More than in sex dividual." This, in some sort, modifies the subsequent position of Emilia, " bride-habited, but maiden-hearted." Her description of her early friendship has been compared to the celebrated passage in A Midsummer- Nighf s Dream : " Is all the counsel that we two have shar'd," etc. In Chaucer, Theseus makes swift work with Creon and with Thebes : " With Creon, which that was of Thebes king, He fought, and slew him manly as a knight In plain bataille, and put his folk to flight ; And by assault he won the city after. And rent adown both wall, and spar, and rafter ; And to the ladies he restor'd again The bodies of their husbands that were slain. To do th' obsequies, as was then the guise." It is in the battle-field that Palamon and Arcite are discov- ered wounded : *' Not fully quick ne fully dead they were. But by their cote-armure and by their gear The heralds knew them well in special." INTRODUCTION, 31 The incident is literally followed in the play, where the herald says, in answer to the question of Theseus, " They are not dead ?" — *' Nor in a state of life : had they been taken When their last hurts were given, 't was possible They might have been recover'd ; yet they breathe, And have the name of men." In Chaucer, Theseus is to the heroic friends a merciless conqueror : " He full soon them sent To Athenes, for to dwellen in prison Perpetual, he n'olde no ransom." But in The Two Noble Kinsmen he would appear to exhibit himself as a generous foe, who, having accomplished the purposes of his expedition, has no enmity with the honest defenders of their country : " The very lees of such, millions of rates Exceed the wine of others ; all our surgeons Convent in their behoof; our richest balms, Rather than niggard, waste ! their lives concern us Much more than Thebes is worth." The fifth scene of The Two Noble Kinsmen is a scenic expansion of a short passage in Chaucer : " But it were all too long for to devise The greate clamour and the waimenting Which that the ladies made at the brenning Of the bodies." The epigrammatic ending of the scene is perhaps familiar to many : " This world's a city, full of straying streets ; And death's the market-place, where each one meets." Pursuing the plan with which we set out, of following the course of Chaucer's story, we pass over all those scenes and parts of scenes which may be called the underplot. 22 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Such in the second act is the beginning of scene i. In Chaucer we learn that — " in a tow'r, in anguish and in woe, Dwellen this Palamon and eke Arcite For evermore there may no gold them quite." The old romantic poet reserves his dialogue for the real business of the story, when the two friends, each seeing Emilia from the prison-window, become upon the instant defying rivals for her love. This incident is not managed with more preparation by the dramatist ; but the prelude to it exhibits the two young men consoling each other under their adverse fortune, and making resolutions of eternal friendship. . . . We are now arrived at a part of the tale where the poetry of Chaucer assumes the dramatic form. The description of Emilia walking in the garden, the first sight of her by Pala- mon, and his imaginative love, the subsequent prostration of his heart before the same vision by Arcite — are all told with wonderful spirit by the old poet. The entire passage is too long for extract, but we give some lines which will show that the energy of Chaucer imposed no common task of rivalry upon him who undertook to dramatize this scene of passion : " This Palamon gan knit his browes tway. * It were,' quod he, ' to thee no great honour For to be false, ne for to be traytour To me, that am thy cousin and thy brother Ysworn full deep, and each of us to other, That never for to dien in the pain. Till that the death departen shall us twain, Neither of us in love to hinder other, Ne in none other case, my leve brother ; But that thou shouldest truly further me In every case as I should further thee. This was thine oath, and mine also, certain ; I wot it well, thou dar'st it not withsain : Thus art thou of my counsel out of doubt, And now thou wouldest falsely been about INTRODUCTION. 33 To love my lady, whom I love and serve, And ever shall till that my hearte sterve. " * Now certes, false Arcite, thou shalt not so : I lov'd her first, and tolde thee my woe As to my counsel, and my brother sworn To further me as I have told beforn. For which thou art ybounden as a knight To helpen me, if it lie in thy might, Or elles art thou false I dare well say'n.' " This Arcita fully proudly spake again. * Thou shalt,' quod he, ' be rather false than I, And thou art false, I tell thee utterly For par amour I lov'd her first ere thou.' " It is a remarkable circumstance that one of the conditions of the friendship of the young men — the chivalric bond, " Neither of us in love to hinder other," — SO capable of dramatic expansion, has been passed over by the writer of this scene in J'he Two Noble Kinsmen. The story is followed in Arcite being freed; but in Chaucer he returns to Thebes, and after a long absence comes to the court of Theseus in disguise. The unity of time is preserved in the drama, by making him a victor in athletic sports, and thus introduced to the favour of Theseus and the service of Emilia. In Chaucer, Palamon, after seven years' durance, " By helping of a friend brake his prison." The Gaoler's Daughter is a parasitical growth around the old vigorous tree. Palamon is fled to the woods. Arcite has ridden to the fields to make his May-garland ; and his unhappy friend, fearful of pursuit, hears him, unknown, sing — " O Maye, with all thy flowres and thy green, Right welcome be thou faire freshe May; I hope that I some green here getten may." The old poet continues, with his inimitable humour : C 34 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. " When that Arcite had roamed all his fill, And sungen all the roundel lustily, Into a study he fell suddenly, As do these lovers in their quainte gears, Now in the crop, and now down in the breres. Now up, now down, as bucket in a well." The lover gives utterance to his lamentations ; his rival hears him, and starts out of the bushes with, " False Arcite, false traitor!" Arcite proposes that they should determine their contention by mortal combat on the following day : " Here I will be founden as a knight, And bringen harness right enough for thee ; And choose the best, and leave the worst for me : And meat and drinke this night will I bring." The corresponding scene in The Two Noble Kinsmen is finely written. There is a quiet strength about it which exhibits very high art. . . . The third scene, where Arcite comes to Palamon " with meat, wine, and files," is merely the carrying out of the action promised in the previous in- terview. It is unnecessary for the dramatic movement. . . . The combat itself takes place in the sixth scene. The passage in Chaucer upon which this scene is founded pos- sesses all his characteristic energy. The hard outline which it presents is in some degree a natural consequence of its force and clearness : " And in the grove, at time and place yset, This Arcite and this Palamon been met. Tho changen gan the colour of their face ; Right as the hunter in the regne of Thrace That standeth at a gappe with a spear, When hunted is the lion or the bear, And heareth him come rushing in the greves, And breaking both the boughes and the leaves, And think'th, ' Here com'th my mortal enemy, Withouten fail he must be dead or I ; For either I must slay him at the gap. Or he must slay me, if that me mishap.' INTRODUCTION. 35 So fareden they in changing of their hue, As far as either of them other knew. There n'as no good day, ne no sakiing, But straight withouten wordes rehearsing, Everich of them help to armen other As friendly as he were his owen brother ; And after that with sharpe speares strong They foinden each at other wonder long." It is upon the "everich of them help to armen other" that the dramatist has founded the interchange of courtesies be- tween the two kinsmen. . . . The interruption to the combat by Theseus and his train; the condemnation of the rivals by the duke ; the intercession of Hippolyta and EmiHa ; and the final determination that the knights should depart, and within a month return accompanied by other knights to contend in bodily strength for the fair prize — these inci- dents are founded pretty closely upon Chaucer, with the exception that the elder poet does not make Theseus de- cree that the vanquished shall die upon the block. The scene has no marked deviation in style from that which precedes it. The supposed interval of time during the absence of the knights is filled up by Chaucer with some of the finest descriptions which can be found amongst the numberless vivid pictures which his writings exhibit. In The Two No- ble Kinsmen the whole of the fourth act is occupied with the progress of the underplot; with the exception of the second scene, which commences with the long and not very dramatic soliloquy of Emilia upon the pictures of her two lovers, and is followed by an equally undramatic description by a mes- senger of the arrival of the princes and of the qualities of their companions. This description is founded upon Chaucer. We pass on to the fifth act. Chaucer has wonderfully described the temples of Venus, of Mars, and of Diana. The dramatist has followed him in making Arcite address himself to Mars, Palamon to Venus, 36 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. and Emilia to Diana. Parts of tiiese scenes are without all doubt the finest passages of the play, surpassed by very few things indeed within their own poetical range. The ad- dresses of Arcite to Mars, and of Emilia to Diana, possess a condensation of thought, a strength of imagery, and a maj- esty of language, almost unequalled by the very highest masters of the art ; but they as properly belong to the epic as to the dramatic division of poetry. The invocation of Palamon to Venus, although less sustained and less pleasing, is to our minds more dramatic : it belongs more to romantic poetry. The nobler invocations are cast in a classical mould. The combat scene is not presented on the stage. The ab- sence of it is certainly managed with very great skill. Emilia refuses to be present j she is alone ; the tumult is around her ; rumour upon rumour is brought to her ; she attempts to analyze her own feelings ; and we must say that she appears to be thinking more of herself than is consistent with a very high conception of female excellence. Arcite is eventually the victor. Palamon and his friends appear on the scaffold, prepared for death. Then comes the catastrophe of Arcite's sudden calamity in the hour of triumph ; and this again is description. The death of Arcite is told by Chaucer with great pathos; and the address of the dying man to Emilia is marked by truth and simplicity infinitely touch- ing: " What is this world ? what asken men to have ? Now with his love, now in his colde grave — Alone — withouten any company. Farewell, my sweet, farewell, mine Emily ! And softe take me in your armes tway For love of God, and hearkeneth what I say. I have here with my cousin Palamon Had strife and rancour many a day agone For love of you, and for my jealousy ; And Jupiter to wis my soule gie, To speaken of a servant properly, With alle circumstances truely, INTRODUCTION. 37 That is to say, truth, honour, and knighthead. Wisdom, humbless, estate, and high kindred. Freedom, and all that longeth to that art, So Jupiter have of my soule part, As in this world right now ne know I none So worthy to be lov'd as Palamon, That serveth you, and will do all his life ; And if that ever ye shall be a wife, Forget not Palamon, the gentle manP The dramatic poet falls short of this : " Take Emilia, And with her all the world's joy. Reach thy hand ; Farewell ! I have told my last hour. I was false. Yet never treacherous. Forgive me, cousin ! — One kiss from fair Emilia ! — 'T is done : Take her. I die !" \From WariVs '■'■English Dramatic Literature.^'' ^ The Two Noble Kinsmen was, according to its publisher of 1634 and the opinion of several critics, written conjointly by Fletcher and Shakespeare. Sceptical as I remain with regard to this statement [cf p. 16 above], I am the more anxious to advert to the many beauties of this " tragi-com- edy," as it originally appears to have been called, doubtless because of its (imperfectly) "happy ending." For the comic element is very slight, being in the main confined to a scene (iii. 5) which is not without reminiscences both of the Mid- summer- Nighf s Dream^ and more particularly of Lovers La- bour ^s Lost, the schoolmaster Gerrold being evidently a copy of Holofernes. The main story is of course that of Chau- cer's Knightes Tale ; but though the divergences in the plot are slight, there are other differences of far greater sig- nificance. Chaucer's poem was founded on the Teseide of Boccaccio ; but it is by no means a translation, for of the lines composing it only an eighth or less are said to be * A History of English Dramatic Literature, by A. W. Ward, A.M. (London, 1875), vol. ii. p. 232. 33 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. translated from the original. The drama inevitably reduces the length in time of the action ; it omits (likewise inevita- bly) many of the vivid descriptions of the poem (for exam- ple, that of the three temples and much of the tournament), and discreetly abbreviates the conduct of the catastrophe. The supernatural machinery (skilfully enough interwoven with the action by Chaucer) it leaves aside altogether, ex- cept in the incidents of the temple scenes (v. 1-3). On the other hand, it substitutes for Chaucer's in itself very striking description of the two cousins silently arming one another for their mutual combat, a most effective dialogue between them (iii. 6). What is of more importance, the drama de- velops with greater fulness the character of Emily, which Chaucer treats rather lightly;"^ and introduces the entirely new and exceedingly pathetic character of the Gaoler's Daughter, whose unrequited love liberates Palamon from prison. The earlier scenes in which the poor child dis- closes her hopeless but irresistible love are very touching; and her first loss of reason is very powerfully depicted ; though afterwards (not to speak of too obvious reminis- cences of Ophelia) this episode is drawn out at too great length and in the end degraded. The play abounds in beauties of detail, and as a whole is a most successful solu- tion of the difficult problem of converting an epos into a drama, chiefly by the proper means of elaborating the characterization. The close is as unsatisfactory in the drama as in the poem ; indeed, more so in the former than in the latter, for Chaucer's philosophy helps to reconcile us to the unequal fates of the two kinsmen as a matter of destiny. Palamon should have killed himself over Arcite's corpse, and Emily resumed her vows of virginity. * In one passage indeed, with a genial cynicism not unusual to him, when in a mood of " heresie ayenst the law " of Love : " For women, as to speken in commune, They folwen all the favour of fortune." INTRODUCTION. 39 ^Comments on the Play by F. G. Fleay, M.A.*] The composition of this play by Shakespeare and Fletch- er was, nearly without error, analyzed by Weber ; though his unostentatious work has been eclipsed by that of later critics. The correct division is, as I have shown by metri- cal tests: Shakespeare — i. 1-5, ii. la (which should, as in the old editions, form a separate scenet), iii. i, iv. 3, v. i (except lines 1-17, which are Fletcher's, as I ought to have pointed out before this), v. 3, 4. Fletcher's scenes are from ii. id to ii. 5,$ iii. 2 to iv. 2, v. 2, and the 17 lines mentioned above. But it has always been felt that, although the same two hands were employed as in Henry VIIL^ the results were not correspondent. This residuary problem is not soluble by metrical testing : we must have recourse to dif- ferent considerations. It is clear that this play was printed from a play-house manuscript, because in i. 3 there are stage-directions in the margin, "2 Hearses ready with Palamon and Arcite; the 3 Queenes, Theseus and his Lordes ready ;" and again in iii. 5, "Knock for Schoole," etc. In the Prologue we are also told this was a new play. Whatever further indications can be found, then, in the quarto as to date will apply to the original production, and not to a revival. Now in iv. 2 we find "Enter Messenger. Curtis." Curtis was then the name of the actor who took the Messenger's part. The only Cur- tis known among actors in Fletcher's time is Curtis Gre- ville, member of Lady Elizabeth's Players in 1622; of the Palsgrave's in the same year ; of the King's in October, 1626, when Massinger's Roman Actor was performed. This * After the preceding pages were in type, this paper was sent us by Mr. Fleay, with permission to use it in this edition. t We have made it a separate scene in this edition, as Knight, Little- dale, and Hudson do. } That is, scenes 2-6, according to the numbering of this edition. 40 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. gives us as date for our play 1623-1626, which agrees with Dyce's opinion that Fletcher's part was written at the close of his career. But we can get closer than this. In August, 1624, the King's Players were in difficulties about Middleton's Game of Chess. On June 24, 1625, their patent was granted to the King's Players by Charles L, on condition that they should not perform in London till the number of plague-infested per- sons should be less than forty in the week. Charles I. had succeeded to the throne on March 27, and a cloak, etc., had been distributed to each of the King's Players, including three not named in the patent, and fifteen in all, clearly the whole company. Greville's name is not on this list. The last notice of the Palsgrave's Players is on Novem- ber 3, 1624. The company probably broke up about the time of Charles's accession, and was succeeded by the com- pany of the Fortune. Greville would seem to have taken the first opportunity of joining the King's Players, perhaps immediately after March 27, 1625 ; certainly before Novem- ber, 1626. This brings our limits very close. Again, the Prologue was clearly one of Fletcher's own modest compositions ; for, had it been written after his death, there would have been a flourish about him in it (compare the prologues to The Elder Brother., Lover's Prog- ress, and others written after that event) : and in this Prol- ogue we read " If this play do not keep A little dull time from us, we perceive Our losses fall so thick, we needs must leave." This is in anticipation of the inhibition to act during the prevalence of the plague : the losses were the small at- tendance during the sickly time coming just after the trou- ble about Middleton's play. They did actually leave Lon- don in July because of the plague ; and Fletcher left this life in August by the same disease. INTRO D UCTION. 41 We now get as limits of date March 27, 1625, and June 24, 1625, Fletcher's last complete play having been licensed October 19, 1624. This was Rule a Wife and Have a Wife. We are now justified in concluding that as about April, 1625, the plague began to threaten, and Greville had not joined the company on March 27th, we cannot be wrong in abso- lutely fixing the date at about Easter (April 17th). We may even guess the day as Easter Monday (April i8th), as on that day new plays fi'equently appeared. We can now get rid of many difficulties. The play was not included in the 1623 folio because it did not exist. The editors of that folio were not so careless as is supposed. They omitted Pericles., indeed, but how could they help it while Rowley and Wilkins, joint authors and owners of copyright, were still alive ? ' They omitted Edward III. be- cause it is very likely that Shakespeare never claimed his share in a play that had been acted, not at a regular the- atre, but '' about the city of London " in the plague-year of 1593. As for this play, I have no doubt they gave it to Fletcher to complete, just as they did Timon of Athens to Cyril Tourneur, but he did not get it done in time. For the care exercised in such cases compare the instance of Fletcher's Wild- Goose Chase. Among minor matters confirming this conclusion, note that the prologue was spoken at Blackfriars ; had Fletcher and Shakespeare jointly produced the play on the stage, it would have been spoken at the Globe : also the use of the title Noble, which was a fashion just coming in at that time. Thus Massinger's Bondman was entered as The Noble Bondman in December, 1623 j and other instances are Massinger's Noble Choice, Fletcher's Noble Gentleman^ the Noble Ravishers, Rowley's Noble Spanish Soldier, originally entered as the Spanish Soldier, Sharpe's Noble Stranger, and Glapthorne's Noble Trial. All these occur between 1623 and 1636, and in no earlier instance does the word Noble occur in a title. 42 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Now for the case of Henry VIII. This play was being acted in 1613 when the Globe was burned. It was then a new play, and the allusions to its second title, "All is True," in the prologue written by Fletcher, show that our present copy is the one then produced. Fletcher from the latter part of 161 1 till the early part of 1613 was writing with Beau- mont for the Children of the Revels. Beaumont then ceased to write, and Fletcher returned to the King's Company. Hence Henry VIII. was probably his first play for them after his return. But this also was in all probability not a case of joint composition any more than the Kinsmen. Had Shakespeare continued to work after 161 1 (the latest date for the Wmter's Tale), he would hardly have taken two years to finish two plays. He probably began these in 161 1 (1612 at latest), and for reasons unknown to us gave up work suddenly. However this may be, the differences in Fletcher's handling of the two plays are fully accounted for by the different dates of work. I cannot conclude without noticing the epochs marked by these plays : the one coincident with the retirement of Beaumont, Marston, Chapman, and Shakespeare, the begin- ning of Massinger's career, the burning of the Globe, the abolition of Whitefriars, the marriage of the Palatine ; the other, with the deaths of Rowley, Middleton, and Fletcher, the end of the theatrical career of Dekker and Webster, the beginning of Ford's, the epoch of many theatrical changes, and the accession of a new King. Finally, we have in these two plays the very latest work of our two most influential dramatists ; the one in all senses the great playwright of the stage in Blackfriars, the other the still greater poet of the Globe. One marks the end of the Silver, the other of the Golden, Age of our theatre : after them came the Brazen Age of Ford, Massinger, and Shirley, again to be succeeded by the Iron Age of the men of the Restoration. THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Theseus, duke of Athens. PiRiTHOus, an Athenian general. Artesius, an Athenian captain. . ' > nephews to Creon, king of Thebes. Arcite, j ^ > o Valerius, a Theban nobleman. Six Knights. A Herald. A Gaoler. Wooer to the Gaoler's Daughter. A Doctor. Brother to the Gaoler. Friends to the Gaoler. A Gentleman. Gerrold, a schoolmaster. HippoLYTA, bride to Theseus. Emilia, her sister. Three Queens. The Gaoler's Daughter, Waiting-woman to Emilia. Countrymen, Messengers, a man personating Hymen, Boy, Executioners, Guard, and At- tendants. Country Wenches, and women per- sonating Nymphs. Scene: Athe?is and the neighbour- hood; and z« part of the first act, " -" - Thebes and the tieighbotirhood. - -■ ^? 'I x.;.-^. GRECIAN HORSEMEN. FKOM THE FRIEZE OF THE PARTHENON. PROLOGUE. New plays and maidenheads are near akin ; Much follow'd both, for both much money gi'en, If they stand sound and well : and a good play, Whose modest scenes blush on his marriage-day, And shake to lose his honour, is like her That, after holy tie and first night's stir. Yet still is modesty, and still retains More of the maid to sight than husband's pains. We pray our play may be so ; for I'm sure It has a noble breeder and a pure, A learned, and a poet never went More famous yet 'twixt Po and silver Trent. Chaucer, of all admir'd, the story gives ; There constant to eternity it lives. If we let fall the nobleness of this. And the first sound this child hear be a hiss, How will it shake the bones of that good man, 46 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. And make him cry from under ground, ' O, fan From me the witless chaff of such a writer That blasts my bays, and my fam'd works makes lighter 20 Than Robin Hood !' This is the fear we bring ; For, to say truth, it were an endless thing, And too ambitious, to aspire to him. Weak as we are, and almost breathless swim In this deep water, do but you hold out Your helping hands, and we shall tack about. And something do to save us : you shall hear Scenes, though below his art, may yet appear Worth two hours' travail. To his bones sweet sleep ! Content to you ! — If this play do not keep 30 A little dull time from us, we perceive Our losses fall so thick, we needs must leave. \Flourish. AN AMAZON. ACT I. Scene I. Athens. Before a Temple. Ejiter 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, &he bride, led by Piri- THOUS, and another holdhig a garland over her head, her tresses likewise hangiftg; after her, Emilia, holding up her train; Artesius and Attendants, The Song. 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 ; {Music. 48 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Primrose, first-horn child of Ver, Merry spring-time's harbinger. With her bells dim ; Oxlips in their cradles growing, lo Marigolds on death-beds blowing. Larks'' -heels trim; All dear Nature^ s children sweet. Lie fore bride and bridegroom'' s feet. Blessing their sense I [Strewing flowers. Not an angel of the air. Bird melodious, or bird fair, Be absent hence I 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 the7tt any discord bring, But from it fly / Enter three Queens, iti black, with veils stained, and with im- perial crowns. The First Queen falls down at the foot of Theseus; the Second falls down at the foot of Hifvoj^yta ; the Third before Emilia. 1 Queen. For pity's sake and true gentility's, Hear and respect me ! 2 Queen. For your mother's sake, And as you wish yourself may thrive with fair ones, Hear and respect me ! 3 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 ACT /. SCENE I. 49 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 distress'd Does bind me to her. Theseus. What 's your request? Deliver you for all. I 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 fields of Thebes. He will not suffer us to burn their bones. To urn their ashes, nor to take the 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 the 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 crowned heads we have no roof Save this, which is the lion's and the bear's, And vault to everything ! 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. King Capaneus 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, D . so THE TWO ATOBLE KINSMEN. Nor in more bounty spread her; 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 1 Queen. O, I hope some god, Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood, Whereto he '11 infuse power, and p^ess 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. 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 styl'd 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 ow'st his strength And his love too, who is a servant for The tenour 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 ; ACT I. SCENE I. 51 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-siz'd field lay swoln, Showing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon, 100 What you would do! Hippolyta. 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 '11 speak anon. 3 Queen. O, my petition was [Kneels to Emilia. Set down in ice, which, by hot grief uncandied, Melts into drops; so sorrow, wanting form, Is press'd with -deeper matter. Emilia. Pray stand up; Your grief is written in your cheek. 3 Queen. O, woe ! no 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' 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. Emilia. Pray you, say nothing, pray you ; Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in 't, «o 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, 52 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. 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 the temple! leave not out a jot 130 O' the 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' 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. 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 the dead ! mi Those that, with cords, knives, drams, precipitance, Weary of this world's light, have to themselves Been death's most horrid agents, human grace Afibrds them dust and shadow — I Quee7i. But our lords Lie blistering 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. 150 I Queen. And that work now presents itself to the doing; Now 't will take form ; the heats are gone to-morrow. Then bootless toil must recompense itself With it's own sweat; now he 's secure. Not dreams we stand before your puissance, ACT I. SCENE I. 53 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 know'st How to draw out, fit to this enterprise, i6a 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 the Queens. Farewell! 2 Queen. We come unseasonably; but when could grief Cull forth, as unpang'd judgment can, fitt'st time For best solicitation "i Theseus. 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. I 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 iSo 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 ^4 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and Thou shalt remember nothing more than what That banquet bids thee to ! Hippolyta. {Kneeling to Theseus) Though much unlike You should be so transported, as much sorry I should be such a suitor, yet I think, Did I not, by the abstaining of my joy, Which breeds a deeper longing, cure their surfeit 19° 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 Queens. O, help now! \To Emilia. Our cause cries for your knee. Emilia. {Kfieeling to Theseus) 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 '11 not dare To ask you any thing, nor be so hardy Ever to take a husband. Theseus. Pray stand up! \Hippolyta and Emilia 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 anything In the pretended celebration. — Queens, zro Follow your soldier. — As before, hence you, [to.ArtesiUs. And at the banks of Aulis meet us with The forces you can raise, where we shall find ACT I. SCENE IT. 55 The moiety of a number, for a business More bigger look'd. — {To Hippolytd) Since that our theme is haste. I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip ; Sweet, keep it as my token ! — {To Artesius) 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 ! Pirithous. Sir, 220 I '11 follow you at heels; the feast's solemnity Shall v/ant 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! \Hippolyta^ Emilia, Pirithous, Hymen, Boy, Nymphs, and Attendants enter the temple. 1 Queen. Thus dost thou still make good The tongue o' the world — 2 Queen. And earn'st a deity 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, 230 Groan under such a mastery. 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. Scene II. Thebes. The Court of the Palace. Enter Palamon and Arcite. Arcite. Dear Palamon, dearer in love than blood. And our prime cousin, yet unharden'd in -5 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. 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' the aid o' the current were almost to sink, At least to frustrate striving ; and to follow The common stream, 't would bring us to an eddy lo 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' the martialist, who did propound To his bold ends honour and golden ingots, AVhich, 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 retain anew Her charitable heart, now hard, and harsher Than 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 30 But the unconsidered soldier? Palamon. 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. ACT I. SCENE IL 57 Arcite. 'T is 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. Palamon. It is 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 50 Follows his tailor, haply so long until The follow'd make pursuit? Or let me know Why mine own barber is unbless'd, with him My poor chin too, for 't is 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 plantain ; that which rips my bosom, Almost to the heart, 's — Arcite. Our uncle Creon. Palamon. He, A most unbounded tyrant, whose successes Makes heaven unfear'd, and villany assur'd Beyond its power there 's nothing; almost puts 58 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Faith in a fever, and deifies alone Voluble cliance; who only attributes The faculties of other instruments To his own nerves and act; commands men's service, And what they win in 't, boot and glory; one 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 ! 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 80 The ears of heavenly justice ; widows' cries Descend again into their throats, and have not Due audience of the gods. — Valerius ! Enter Valerius. Valerius. The king calls for you ; yet be leaden-footed Till his great rage be off him. Phoebus, 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 90 Deadly defiance to him, and pronounces Ruin to Thebes; who is at hand to seal The promise of his wrath. Arcite. Let him approach ! ACT I. SCENE III. 59 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 action 's dregg'd with mind assur'd 'T is bad he goes about ? Palamon. Leave that unreason'd ; Our services stand now for Thebes, not Creon. Yet to be neutral to him were dishonour, loo Rebellious to oppose ; therefore we must With him stand to the mercy of our fate, Who hath bounded our last minute. A r cite. So we must. — Is 't said this war 's afoot ? or it shall be, On fail of some condition ? Valerius. 'T is 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 comes in, the blood we venture Should be as for our health; which were not spent, no Rather laid out for purchase : but, alas. Our hands advanc'd before our hearts, what will The fall o' the stroke do damage ? Arcite. Let the event, That never-erring arbitrator, tell us When we know all ourselves; and let us follow The becking of our chance. \Exeunt. Scene III. Before the Gates of Athens. Enter Pirithous, Hippolyta, and Emilia. Pirithous. No further ! Hippolyta. Sir, farewell ! Repeat my wishes To our great lord, of whose success I dare not 5o THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Make any timorous question ; yet I wish him Excess and overflow of power, an 't miglit be, To dare ill-dealing fortune. Speed to him ; Store never hurts good governors. Firithous. 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 f^ In their best-temper'd pieces keep enthron'd ' lo In your dear heart ! , Emilia. Thanks, sir. Remember me To our all-royal brother, for whose speed The great Bellona I '11 solicit ; and Since, in our terrene state, petitions are not Without gifts understood, I '11 offer to her What I shall be advis'd 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 broach'd on the lance, or women 20 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. Pirithoiis. Peace be to you, As I pursue this war ! which shall be then Beyond further requiring. \Exit. Emilia. How his longing Follows his friend ! Since his depart his sports, Though craving seriousness and skill, pass'd slightly His careless execution, where nor gain Made him regard, or loss consider; but 30 Playing one business in his hand, another Directing in his head, his mind nurse equal ACT I. SCENE III. 6 1 To these so differing 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 cabin'd In many as dangerous as poor a corner, Peril and want contending; they have skiif'd Torrents, whose roaring tyranny and power I' the least of these was dreadful ; and they have Fought out together, where death's self was lodg'd, 40 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, 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 enjoy'd a playfellow; 50 You were at wars when she the grave enrich'd. Who made too proud the bed, took leave o' the moon — Which then look'd pale at parting — when our count Was each eleven. Hippolyta. 'T was Flavina. Emilia. Yes. You talk of Pirithous' and Theseus' love : Theirs has more ground, is more maturely seasoned, More buckled with strong judgment, 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, 60 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 62 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Did so to one another. What she lik'd, Was then of me approv'd; what not, condemn'd, No more arraignment. The flower that I would pluck And put between my breasts — 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 phcenix-like 70 They died in perfume. On my head no toy But was her pattern ; her affections — pretty, Though happily her careless wear — I follow'd For my most serious decking. Had mine ear Stol'n some new air, or at adventure humm'd 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, every innocent wots well, comes in Like old importment's bastard — has this end, 80 That the true love 'tween maid and maid may be More than 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 call'd 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, ^o 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. ACT I. SCENE IV. 63 Emilia. I am not Against your faith ; yet I continue mine. [Exeunt. Scene IV". A Field before Thebes. Cornets. A battle struck within; then a retreat; then a flour- ish. Then enter Theseus, 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 wish'd upon thy head, I cry amen to 't ! Theseus. The 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 10 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 judg'd By their appointment; some of Thebes have told 's They are sisters' children, nephews to the king. Theseus. ^^ the helm of Mars, I saw them in the war, Like to a pair of lions smear'd with prey. Make lanes in troops aghast; I fix'd my note Constantly on them, for they were a mark 20 Worth a god's view. What was 't that prisoner told me, When I inquir'd their names } Herald. We learn, they're call'd Arcite and Palamon. 64 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Theseus. 'T is right ; those, those. They are not dead ?. Herald. Nor in a state of Hfe : had they been taken When their last hurts were given, 't was possible They might have been recover'd; yet they breathe, And have tlie name of men. Theseus. Then Uke men use 'em ; The very lees of such, millions of rates Exceed the wine of others. All our surgeons 30 Convent in their behoof; our richest balms, Rather than niggard, waste : their lives concern us Much more than Thebes is worth. Rather than 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 fight's fury, friends' behests, 40 Love's 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, Or 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 scatter'd, we will post To Athens fore our army. \Flourish. Exeunt. ACT I. SCENE V. 6$ Scene V. Another Fart of the Field. Enter the Queens with the hearses of their husbands in a funeral solemnity^ etc. Song. Urns a?id odours bring away I Vapours^ sighs, darken the day / Our dole more deadly looks than dying; Balms, and gmns, and heavy cheers, Sacred vials fiWd with tears, And clamours through the wild air flying! Come, all sad and solemn shows. That are quick-eyed pleasure' s foes ! We co?ive?it nought else but woes. We conve7it, etc. lo 3 Queen. This funeral path brings to your household's grave. Joy seize on you again ! Peace sleep with him ! 2 Queen. And this to yours ! I 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. E - ^:-^^""'i£i^.-^ EMILIA AND HER WAITING-WOMAN. ACT 11. Scene I. Athens. A Garden, with a Castle in the back- ground. Enter Gaoler and Wooer. Gaoler. I may depart with little, while I live ; something I may cast to you, not much. Alas, the prison I keep, though it be for great ones, yet they seldom come ; before one salmon, you shall take a number of minnows. I am given out to be better lined than it can appear to me report is a true speaker ; I would I were really that I am delivered to be ! Marry, what I have — be it what it will — I will assure upon my daughter at the day of my death. Wooer. Sir, I demand no more than your own ofifer; and I will estate your daughter in what I have promised. lo ACT 11. SCENE I. 67 Gaoler. Well, we will talk more of this when the solem- nity is past. But have you a full promise of her ? When that shall be seen, I tender my consent. Wooer. I have, sir. Here she comes. Enter Gaoler's Daughter, with rushes. Gaoler. Your friend and I have chanced to name you here, upon the old business: but no more of that now. So soon as the court-hurry is over, we will have an end of it. I* the mean time, look tenderly to the two prisoners. I can tell you they are princes. ig Daughter. These strewings are for their chamber. 'T is pity they are in prison, and 't were pity they should be out. I do think they have patience to make any adversity ashamed ; the prison itself is proud of 'em, and they have all the world in their chamber. Gaoler. They are famed to be a pair of absolute men. Daughter. By my troth, I think fame but stammers 'em ; they stand a grise above the reach of report. Gaoler. I heard them reported in the battle to be the only doers. 29 Daughter. Nay, most likely; for they are noble sufferers. I marvel how they would have looked, had they been vic- tors, that with such a constant nobility enforce a freedom out of bondage, making misery their mirth, and affliction a toy to jest at. Gaoler. Do they so "i Daughter. It seems to me, they have no more sense of their captivity, than I of ruling Athens ; they eat well, look merrily, discourse of many things, but nothing of their own restraint and disasters. Yet sometime a divided sigh, mar- tyred as 't were i' the deliverance, will break from one of them ; when the other presently gives it so sweet a rebuke, that I could wish myself a sigh to be so chid, or at least a sigher to be comforted. 43 68 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Wooer. I never saw 'em. Gaoler. The duke himself came privately in the night, and so did they; what the reason of it is, I know not. — \Palainon and Arcite appear at a window^ above\ Look, yon- der they are ! that 's Arcite looks out. Daughter. No, sir, no; that's Palamon. Arcite is the lower of the twain ; you may perceive a part of him. 50 Gaoler. Go to, leave your pointing ! They would not make us their object ; out of their sight ! Daughter. It is a holiday to look on them ! Lord, the difference of men ! [Exeunt. Scene 1 1. A Room in the Prison. Enter Palamon and Arcite. Palamofi. How do you, noble cousin ? Arcite. How do you, sir ? Palamon. Why, strong enough to laugh at misery. And bear the chance of war yet. We are prisoners I fear for ever, cousin. Arcite. I believe it; And to that destiny have patiently Laid up my hour to come. Palamon. O, cousin Arcite, Where is Thebes now? where is our noble country? Where are our friends and kindreds ? Never more Must we behold those comforts ; never see The hardy youths strive for the games of honour, 10 Hung with the painted favours of their ladies. Like tall ships under sail ; then start amongst 'em, And, as an east wind, leave 'em all behind us Like lazy clouds, whilst Palamon and Arcite, Even in the wagging of a wanton leg, Outstripp'd the people's praises, won the garlands, Ere they have time to wish 'em ours. O, never ACT II. SCENE II. 69 Shall we two exercise, like twins of honour, Our arms again, and feel our fiery horses Like proud seas under us ! Our good swords now — 20 Better the red-eyed god of war ne'er wore — Ravish'd our sides, like age, must run to rust, And deck the temples of those gods that hate us ; These hands shall never draw 'em out like lightning, To blast whole armies, more ! Arcite. No, Palamon, Those hopes are prisoners with us : here we are, And here the graces of our youths must wither, Like a too-timely spring \ here age must find us, And, which is heaviest, Palamon, unmarried ; The sweet embraces of a loving wife, 30 Loaden with kisses, arm'd with thousand Cupids, Shall never clasp our necks; no issue know us. No figures of ourselves shall we e'er see, To glad our age, and like young eagles teach 'em Boldly to gaze against bright arms, and say, * Remember what your fathers were, and conquer !' The fair-eyed maids shall weep our banishments. And in their songs curse ever-blinded Fortune, Till she for shame see what a wrong she has done To youth and nature. This is all our world j 40 We shall know nothing here but one another. Hear nothing but the clock that tells our woes ; The vine shall grow, but we shall never see it; Summer shall come, and with her all delights, But dead-cold winter must inhabit here still. Palamon. 'T is too true, Arcite. To our Theban hounds. That shook the aged forest with their echoes, No more now must we halloo; no more shake Our pointed javelins, whilst the angry swine Flies like a Parthian quiver from our rages, 50 Stuck with our well-steel'd darts ! All valiant uses — 70 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. The food and nourishment of noble minds — In us two here shall perish ; we shall die — Which is the curse of honour — lazily, Children of grief and ignorance. Arcite. Yet, cousin. Even from the bottom of these miseries, From all that fortune can inflict upon us, I see two comforts rising, two mere blessings, If the gods please to hold here, — a brave patience. And the enjoying of our griefs together. 60 Whilst Palamon is with me, let me perish If I think this our prison ! Pala7non. Certainly, *T is a main goodness, cousin, that our fortunes Were twin'd together: 't is most true, two souls Put in two noble bodies, let 'em suffer The gall of hazard, so they grow together. Will never sink; they must not; say they could, A willing man dies sleeping, and all 's done. Arcite. Shall we make worthy uses of this place. That all men hate so much ? Palamon. How, gentle cousin ? 70 Arcite. Let ^s think this prison holy sanctuary. To keep us from corruption of worse men. We are young, and yet desire the ways of honour, That liberty and common conversation. The poison of pure spirits, might, like women, Woo us to wander from. What worthy blessing Can be, but our imaginations May make it ours ? and here being thus together, We are an endless mine to one another; We are one another's wife, ever begetting 80 New births of love; we are father, friends, acquaintance; We are, in one another, families; I am your heir, and you are mine; this place ACT 11, SCENE II. 71 Is our inheritance ; no hard oppressor Dare take this from us ; here, with a little patience, We shall live long, and loving ; no surfeits seek us ; The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seas Swallow their youth. Were we at liberty, A wife might part us lawfully, or business ; Quarrels consume us ; envy of ill men 90 Grave our acquaintance ; I might sicken, cousin, Where you should never know it, and so perish Without your noble hand to close mine eyes, Or prayers to the gods : a thousand chances, Were we from hence, would sever us. Palamon. You have made me — • I thank you, cousin Arcite — almost wanton With my captivity \ what a misery It is to live abroad, and everywhere ! 'T is like a beast, methinks ! I find the court here, I am sure, a more content j and all those pleasures, 100 That woo the wills of men to vanity, I see through now; and am sufficient To tell the world, 't is but a gaudy shadow. That old Time, as he passes by, takes with him. What had we been, old in the court of Creon, Where sin is justice, lust and ignorance The virtues of the great ones ! Cousin Arcite, Had not the loving gods found this place for us. We had died as they do, ill old men, unwept. And had their epitaphs, the people's curses. no Shall I say more? Arcite. I would hear you still. Palamon. Ye shall. Is there record of any two that lov'd Better than we do, Arcite ? Arcite. Sure, there cannot. Palamon. I do not think it possible our friendship Should ever leave us. r y2 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Arcite. Till our deaths it cannot; And after death our spirits shall be led To those that love eternally. Speak on, sin Enter Emilia and Waiting-woman, below. Emilia. This garden has a world of pleasures in 't. What flower is this ? Waiting-woman. 'T is call'd narcissus, madam. Emilia. That was a fair boy certain, but a fool 120 To love himself; were there not maids enough? Arcite. Pray, forward. Palamon. Yes. Emilia. Or were they all hard-hearted t Waiting-woman. They could not be to one so fair. Emilia. Thou wouldst not ? Waiting-woman. I think I should not, madam. Emilia. That 's a good wench ; But take heed to your kindness though ! Waiting-woman. Why, madam ? Emilia. Men are mad things. Arcite. Will ye go forward, cousin ? Emilia. Canst thou not work such flowers in silk, wench ? Waiting-woman. Yes. Emilia. I '11 have a gown full of 'em ; and of these ; This is a pretty colour : will 't not do Rarely upon a skirt, wench ? Waiting-woman. Dainty, madam. 130 Arcite. Cousin ! Cousin ! How do you, sir ? Why, Pala- mon ! Palamon. Never till now I was in prison, Arcite. Arcite. Why, what 's the matter, man ? Palamon. Behold, and wonder ! By heaven, she is a goddess ! Arcite. Ha ! Palamon. Do reverence ! She is a goddess, Arcite ! ACT 11. SCENE I J. 73 Emilia. Of all flowers Methinks a rose is best. Waiting-woman. Why, gentle madam ? Emilia. It is the very emblem of a maid ; For when the west wind courts her gently, How modestly she blows, and paints the sun With her chaste blushes ! when the north comes near her, Rude and impatient, then, like chastity, 141 She locks her beauties in her bud again. And leaves him to base briers. Arcite. She is wondrous fair ! Falamon. She is all the beauty extant ! Emilia. The sun grows high ; let 's walk in. Keep these flowers j We '11 see how near art can come near their colours. \Exit with Waiting-woman. Palamon. What think you of this beauty ? Arcite. 'T is a rare one. Pala?non. Is 't but a rare one ? Arcite. Yes, a matchless beauty. Falamon. Might not a man well lose himself, and love her? Arcite. I cannot tell what you have done ; I have, 130 Beshrew mine eyes for 't ! Now I feel my shackles. Pala7non. You love her then ? Arcite. Who would not ? Palamon. And desire her ? Arcite. Before my liberty. Palamon. I saw her first. Arcite. That 's nothing. Palamon. But it shall be. Arcite. I saw her too. Palamon. Yes ; but you must not love her. Arcite. I will not, as you do, to worship her, As she is heavenly and a blessed goddess : 74 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. I love her as a woman, to enjoy her ; So both may love. Palamon. You shall not love at all. Arcite. Not love at all ? who shall deny me ? 160 Palamon. I that first saw her ; I that took possession First with mine eye of all those beauties in her Reveal'd to mankind ! If thou lovest her, Or entertain'st a hope to blast my wishes, Thou art a traitor, Arcite, and a fellow False as thy title to her ; friendship, blood, And all the ties between us I disclaim. If thou once think upon her ! Arcite. Yes, I love her ; And if the lives of all my name lay on it, I must do so ; I love her with my soul. 170 If that will lose ye, farewell, Palamon ! I say again, I love ; and, in loving her, maintain I am as worthy and as free a lover, And have as just a title to her beauty, As any Palamon, or any living That is a man's son. Palamon. Have I call'd thee friend ? Arcite. Yes, and have found me so. Why are you mov'd thus ? Let me deal coldly with you : am not I Part of your blood, part of your soul ? you have told me That I was Palamon, and you were Arcite. 180 Palamon. Yes. Arcite. Am not I liable to those affections. Those joys, griefs, angers, fears, my friend shall suffer? Palamon. Ye may be. Arcite. Why then would you deal so cunningly. So strangely, so unlike a noble kinsman, To love alone ? Speak truly; do you think me Unworthy of her sight ? ACT II. SCENE II. 75 Falamon. No ; but unjust If thou pursue that sight. Arcite. Because another First sees the enemy, shall I stand still, And let mine honour down, and never charge ? 190 Palamon. Yes, if he be but one. Arcite. But say that one Had rather combat me ? Palamon. Let that one say so, And use thy freedom ; else, if thou pursuest her, Be as that cursed man that hates his country, A branded villain ! Arcite. You are mad. Palamon. I must be, Till thou art worthy, Arcite ; it concerns me ; And, in this madness, if I hazard thee And take thy life, I deal but truly. Arcite. Fie, sir ! You play the child extremely : I will love her, I must, I ought to do so, and I dare ; 200 And all this justly. Palamon. O, that now, that now, Thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune. To be one hour at liberty, and grasp Our good swords in our hands I I ^d quickly teach thee What 't were to filch affection from another ! Thou art baser in it than a cutpurse ! Put but thy head out of this window more. And, as I have a soul, I '11 nail thy life to \ ! Arcite. Thou dar'st not,fool; thou canst not; thou art feeble. Put my head out ! I '11 throw my body out, 210 And leap the garden, when I see her next. And pitch between her arms, to anger thee. Palamon. No more ! the keeper 's coming; I shall liv^e To knock thy brains out with my shackles. Arcite. Do ! 76 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN, Enter Gaoler. Gaoler, By your leave, gentlemen. Palamon. Now, honest keeper ? Gaoler. Lord Arcite, you must presently to the duke \ The cause I know not yet. Arcite. I am ready, keeper. Gaoler. Prince Palamon, I must awhile bereave you Of your fair cousin's company. \Exit with Arcite. Palamon. And me too. Even when you please, of life. — Why is he sent for? 220 It may be, he shall marry her; he 's goodly. And like enough the duke hath taken notice Both of his blood and body. But his falsehood ! Why vshould a friend be treacherous ? If that Get him a wife so noble and so fair, Let honest men ne'er love again ! Once more I would but see this fair one. — Blessed garden. And fruit and flowers more blessed, that still blossom As her bright eyes shine on ye ! Would I were, For all the fortune of my life hereafter, 230 Yon little tree, yon blooming apricock ! How I would spread, and fling my wanton arms In at her window ! I would bring her fruit Fit for the gods to feed on % youth and pleasure, Still as she tasted, should be doubled on her; And, if she be not heavenly, I would make her So near the gods in nature, they should fear her; And then I am sure she would love me. — Re-enter Gaoler. How now, keeper ! Where 's Arcite ? Gaoler. Banish'd. Prince Pirithous Obtain'd his liberty; but never more, 240 ACT If. SCENE IL 77 Upon his oath and life, must he set foot Upon this kingdom. Palamon. He 's a blessed man ! He shall see Thebes again, and call to arms The bold young men that, when he bids 'em charge, Fall on like fire. Arcite shall have a fortune, If he dare make himself a worthy lover. Yet in the field to strike a battle for her ; And if he lose her then, he 's a cold coward. How bravely may he bear himself to win her. If he be noble Arcite, thousand ways ! ztp Were I at liberty, I would do things Of such a virtuous greatness that this lady, This blushing virgin, should take manhood to her, And seek to ravish me ! Gaoler. My lord, for you I have this charge too — Palamon. To discharge my life ? Gaoler. No; but from this place to remove your lord- ship j The windows are too open. Palamon. Devils take 'em, That are so envious to me ! Prithee, kill me ! Gaoler. And hang for 't afterward ? Palamon. By this good light. Had I a sword, I 'd kill thee ! Gaoler. Why, my lord ? 260 Palamon. Thou bring'st such pelting scurvy news con- tinually, Thou art not worthy life ! I will not go. Gaoler. Indeed you must, my lord. Palamon. May I see the garden ? Gaoler. No. Palamon. Then I am resolv'd I will not go. Gaoler. I must ^8 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Constrain you then; and, for you are dangerous, I '11 clap more irons on you. , Palamon. Do, good keeper ! I '11 shake 'em so, ye shall not sleep; I '11 make ye a new morris ! Must I go ? Gaoler. There is no remedy. Palamon. Farewell, kind window ! May rude wind never hurt thee ! — O my lady, 271 If ever thou hast felt what sorrow was. Dream how I suffer ! — Come, now bury me. [Exeunt Scene III. The Country near Athens. Enter Arcite. Arcite. Banish'd thr kingdom ? 'T is a benefit, A mercy I must thank 'em for; but banish'd The free enjoying of that face I die for, O, 't was a studied punishment, a death Beyond imagination ! such a vengeance That, were I old and wicked, all my sins Could never pluck upon me. — Palamon, Thou hast the start now ; thou shalt stay and see Her bright eyes break each morning 'gainst thy window, And let in life into thee; thou shalt feed 10 Upon the sweetness of a noble beauty, That nature ne'er exceeded, nor ne'er shall. Good gods, what happiness has Palamon ! Twenty to one, he '11 come to speak to her ; And, if she be as gentle as she 's fair, I know she 's his ; he has a tongue will tame Tempests, and make the wild rocks wanton. Come what can come. The worst is death ; I will not leave the kingdom. I know mine own is but a heap of ruins. And no redress there; if I go, he has her. 20 ACT IL SCEiVE III. yg r I am resolv'd ; another shape shall make me, Or end my fortunes ; either way, I 'm happy : I '11 see her, and be near her, or no more. Enter four Countrymen; ofie with a garland before them. 1 Countryman. My masters, I '11 be there, that 's certain. 2 Countryman. And 1 '11 be there. 3 Countryman. And I, 4 Countryman. Why then, have with ye, boys, 't is but a chiding; Let the plough play to day! I '11 tickle 't out Of the jades' tails to-morrow ! 1 Countryman. I am sure To have my wife as jealous as a turkey : But that 's all one; I '11 go through, let her mumble. 30 3 Countryman. Do we all hold against the Maying? 4 Countryman. Hold ! what should ail us .'' 3 Countryman. Areas will be there. 2 Countryman. And Sennois, And Rycas ; and three better lads ne'er danc'd Under green tree; and ye know what wenches, ha! But will the dainty domine, the schoolmaster, Keep touch, do you think ? for he does all, ye know. 3 Countryman. He '11 eat a horn-book, ere he fail ; go to ! The matter 's too far driven between Him and the tanner's daughter, to let slip now ; 40 And she must see the duke, and she must dance too. 4 Coufitryman. Shall we be lusty ? 2 Countrymafi. Here I '11 be, And there I '11 be, for our town ; and here again. And there again ! Ha, boys, heigh for the weavers ! 1 Countryman. This must be done i' the woods. 4 Countryman. O, pardon me ! 2 Comitryman. Byany means; our thing of learning says so; Where he himself will edify the duke 8o THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Most parlously in our behalfs: he 's excellent i' the woods; Bring him to th' plains, his learning makes no cry. 3 Coufitryman. We '11 see the sports ; then every man to 's tackle ! 50 And, sweet companions, let 's rehearse by any means, Before the ladies see us, and do sweetly, And God knows what may come on 't. 4 Countryman. Content; the sports Once ended, we '11 perform. Away, boys, and hold ! Arcite. By your leaves, honest friends; pray you, whither go you .'' 4 Countrymafi. Whither ? why, what a question 's that ! Arcite. Yes, 't is a question To me that know not. 3 Cou?itryma?i. To the games, my friend. 2 Countryman. Where were you bred, you know it not .-* Arcite. Not far, sir. Are there such games to-day? \ Countryman. Yes, marry, are there; And such as you ne'er saw: the duke himself 60 Will be in person there. Arcite. What pastimes are they ? 2 Countryman. Wrestling and running. — 'T is a pretty fellow. 3 Countryman. Thou wilt not go along ? Arcite. Not yet, sir, 4 Countryman. Well, sir. Take your own time. — Come, boys ! 1 Countryman. My mind misgives me This fellow has a vengeance trick o' the hip ; Mark, how his body 's made for 't! 2 Countryman. I '11 be hang'd though If he dare venture; hang him, plum-porridge ! He wrestle ? He roast eggs ! Come, let 's be gone, lads. \^Exeunt Countrymen. ACT 11. SCENE IV. gl Arcite. This is an offer'd opportunity I durst not wish for. Well I could have wrestled, 70 The best men call'd it excellent; and run Swifter than wind upon a field of corn, Curling the wealthy ears, e'er flew. I '11 venture, And in some poor disguise be there ; who knows Whether my brows may not be girt with garlands, And happiness prefer me to a place Where 1 may ever dwell in sight of her ? \Exit. Scene IV. Athens. A Room in the Prison. Enter Gaoler's Daughter. Daughter. Why should I love this gentleman ? 'T is odds He never will affect me ; I am base. My father the mean keeper of his prison, And he a prince: to marry him is hopeless, To be his whore is witless. Out upon 't ! What pushes are we wenches driven to, When fifteen once has found us ! First, I saw him ; I, seeing, thought he was a goodly man ; He has as much to please a woman in him — If he please to bestow it so — as ever 10 These eyes yet look'd on: next, I pitied him; And so would any young wench, o' my conscience, That ever dream'd, or vow'd her maidenhead To a young handsome man : then, I lov'd him ! Extremely lov'd him, infinitely lov'd him ! And yet he had a cousin, fair as he too; But in my heart was Palamon, and there. Lord, what a coil he keeps ! To hear him Sing in an evening, what a heaven it is ! And yet his songs are sad ones. Fairer spoken 20 Was never gentleman; when I come in To bring him water in a morning, first F 82 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. He bows his noble body, then salutes me thus : ' Fair gentle maid, good morrow ! may thy goodness Get thee a happy husband !' Once he kiss'd me; I lov'd my lips the better ten days after : Would he would do so every day ! He grieves much, And me as much to see his misery. What should I do, to make him know I love him ? For I would fain enjoy him : say I ventur'd 30 To set him free ? what says the law then ? Thus much for law, or kindred ! I will do it, And this night or to-morrow he shall love me. \Exit. Scene V. Ati Open Place in Athens. A short flourish of cornets^ and shouts within. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, PirithouSj Emilia ; Arcite, disguised, wearing a garland ; and Countrymen. Theseus. You have done worthily ; I have not seen, Since Hercules, a man of tougher sinews. Whate'er you are, you run the best and wrestle, That these times can allow. Arcite. I am proud to please you. Theseus. What country bred you ? Arcite. This j but far off, prince. Theseus. Are you a gentleman ? Arcite. My father said so. And to those gentle uses gave me life. Theseus. Are you his heir ? Arcite. His youngest, sir. Theseus. Your father, Sure, is a happy sire then. What proves you? Arcite. A little of all noble qualities : 10 I could have kept a hawk, and well have halloo'd To a deep cry of dogs; I dare not praise My feat in horsemanship, yet they that knew me ACT II. SCENE V. 83 Would say it was my best piece ; last, and greatest, I would be thought a soldier. Theseus. You are perfect, Ph'ithous. Upon my soul, a proper man ! Emilia. He is so. Pirithous. How do you like him, lady ? Hippolyta. I admire him ; I have not seen so young a man so noble. If he say true, of his sort. Emilia. Believe, His mother was a wondrous handsome woman ; 20 His face methinks goes that way. Hippolyta. But his body And fiery mind illustrate a brave father. Pirithous. Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun, Breaks through his baser garments ! Hippolyta. He 's well got, sure. Theseus. What made you seek this place, sir ? Arcite. Noble Theseus, To purchase name, and do my ablest service To such a well-found wonder as thy worth ; For only in thy court, of all the world. Dwells fair-eyed Honour. Pirithous. All his words are worthy. Theseus. Sir, we are much indebted to your travail, 30 Nor shall you lose your wish. — Pirithous, Dispose of this fair gentleman. Pirithous. Thanks, Theseus. — Whate'er you are, you 're mine ; and I shall give you To a most noble service, — to this lady. This bright young virgin : pray observe her goodness. You 've honour'd her fair birthday with your virtues. And, as your due, you 're hers ; kiss her fair hand, sir. Arcite. Sir, you 're a noble giver. — Dearest beauty, Thus let me seal my vow'd faith ! when your servant — 34 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Your most unworthy creature — but offends you, 40 Command him die, he shall. E?nilia. That were too cruel. If you deserve well, sir, I shall soon see 't : You 're mine; and somewhat better than your rank I '11 use you. Pirithous. I '11 see you furnish'd: and because you say You are a horseman, I must needs entreat you This afternoon to ride ; but 't is a rough one. Arcite. I like him better, prince ; I shall not then Freeze in my saddle. Theseus. Sweet, you must be ready — And you, Emilia — and you, friend — and all — 50 To-morrow, by the sun, to do observance To flowery May, in Dian's wood. — Wait well, sir. Upon your mistress ! — Emily, I hope He shall not go afoot. Emilia. That were a shame, sir. While i have horses. — Take your choice ; and what You want at any time, let me but know it. If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you You '11 find a loving mistress. Arcite. If I do not, Let me find that my father ever hated, — Disgrace and blows ! Theseus. Go, lead the way; you've won it; 60 It shall be so ; you shall receive all dues Fit for the honour you have won ; 't were wrong else. — Sister, beshrew my heart, you have a servant, That, if I were a woman, would be master ; But you are wise. Emilia. I hope too wise for that, sir. [^Flourish. Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE VI. 8$ Scene VI. Before the Prison. Enter Gaoler's Daughter. Daughter. Let all the dukes and all the devils roar, He is at liberty! I 've ventur'd for him j And out I have brought him to a little wood A mile hence. I have sent him where a cedar, Higher than all the rest, spreads like a plane Fast by a brook; and there he shall keep close, Till I provide him files and food, for yet His iron bracelets are not off. O Love, What a stout-hearted child thou art! My father Durst better have endur'd cold iron than done it. lo I love him beyond love and beyond reason, Or wit, or safety. I have made him know it: I care not ; I am desperate. If the law Find me, and then condemn me for 't, some wenches. Some honest-hearted maids, will sing my dirge, And tell to memory my death was noble, Dying almost a martyr. That way he takes, I purpose, is my way too j sure he cannot Be so unmanly as to leave me here ! If he do, maids will not so easily 20 Trust men again : and yet he has not thank'd me For what I have done ; no, not so much as kiss'd me ; And that, methinks, is not so well ; nor scarcely Could I persuade him to become a freeman, He made such scruples of the wrong he did To me and to my father. Yet, I hope, When he considers more, this love of mine Will take more root within him : let him do What he will with me, so he use me kindly ! For use me so he shall, or I '11 proclaim him, 3° And to his face, no man. I '11 presently 86 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Provide him necessaries, and pack my clothes up, And where there is a patch of ground I '11 venture, So he be with me ; by him, like a shadow, I '11 ever dwell. Within this hour the whoo-bub Will be all o'er the prison ; I am then Kissing the man they look for. — Farewell, father! Get many more such prisoners and such daughters, And shortly you may keep yourself. Now to him I \Exit. THE PROPYL^A AT ATHENS. What ignorant and mad-malicious traitors Are you. that, 'gainst the tenour of my laws, Are making battle? (iii. 6. 134). ACT III. Scene I. A Forest. Cornets in sundry places. Noise and hallooing, as of People a- Maying. Enter Arcite. Arcite. The duke has lost Hippolyta; each took A several laund. This is a solemn rite They owe bloom'd May, and the Athenians pay it To the heart of ceremony. — O queen Emilia, Fresher than May, sweeter Than her gold buttons on the boughs, or all Th' enamell'd knacks o' the mead or garden! yea, We challenge too the bank of any nymph, 88 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. That makes the stream seem flowers; thou, O jewel O' the wood, o' the world, hast likewise bless'd a place lo With thy sole presence ! In thy rumination That I, poor man, might eftsoons come between, And chop on some cold thought! — Thrice blessed chance, To drop on such a mistress, expectation Most guiltless on 't! Tell me, O lady Fortune- — Next after Emily my sovereign — how far I may be proud. She takes strong note of me. Hath made me near her, and this beauteous morn, The prim'st of all the year, presents me with A brace of horses; two such steeds might well 20 Be by a pair of kings back'd, in a field That their crowns' titles tried. Alas, alas, Poor cousin Palamon, poor prisoner! thou So little dream'st upon my fortune, that Thou think'st thyself the happier thing, to be So near Emilia! Me thou deem'st at Thebes, And therein wretched, although free ; but if Thou knew'st my mistress breath'd on me, and that I ear'd her language, liv'd in her eye, O coz. What passion would enclose thee ! Enter Palamon out of a bush, with his shackles ; he lends his fist at Arcite. Palamon. Traitor kinsman! 30 Thou shouldst perceive my passion, if these signs Of prisonment were off me, and this hand But owner of a sword ! By all oaths in one, I, and the justice of my love, would make thee A confess'd traitor ! O thou most perfidious That ever gently look'd ! the void'st of honour . That e'er bore gentle token! falsest cousin That ever blood made kin ! call'st thou her thine? I '11 prove it in my shackles, with these hands ACT III. SCENE I. 89 Void of appointment, that thou Hest, and art 40 A very thief in love, a chaffy lord. Nor worth the name of villain ! Had I a sword, And these house-clogs away — Arcite. Dear cousin Palamon — - Palamon. Cozener Arcite, give me language such As thou hast show'd me feat! Arcite. Not finding in The circuit of my breast any gross stuff To form me like your blazon, holds me to This gentleness of answer: 't is your passion That thus mistakes ; the which, to you being enemy, Cannot to me be kind. Honour and honesty 50 I cherish and depend on, howsoe'er You skip them in me, and with them, fair coz, I '11 maintain my proceedings. Pray be pleas'd To show in generous terms your griefs, since that Your question 's with your equal, who professes To clear his own way with the mind and sword Of a true gentleman. Palamon. That thou durst, Arcite ! Arcite. My coz, my coz, you have been well advertis'd How much I dare ; you 've seen me use my sword Against the advice of fear. Sure, of another 60 You would not hear me doubted, but your silence Should break out, though i' the sanctuary. Palamon. Sir, I 've seen you move in such a place, which well Might justify your manhood; you were call'd- A good knight and a bold : but the whole week 's not fair, If any day it rain. Their valiant temper Men lose when they incline to treachery; And then they fight like compell'd bears, would fly Were they not tied. Arcite. Kinsman, you might as well QO THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Speak this, and act it in your glass, as to 7° His ear which now disdains you. Palamon. Come up to me! Quit me of these cold gyves, give me a sword, Though it be rusty, and the charity Of one meal lend me ; come before me then, A good sword in thy hand, and do but say That Emily is thine, I will forgive The trespass thou hast done me, yea, my life, If then thou carry 't; and brave souls in shades, That have died manly, which will seek of me Some news from earth, they shall get none but this, so That thou art brave and noble. Arcite. Be content; Again betake you to your hawthorn-house. With counsel of the night, I will be here With wholesome viands; these impediments Will I file off; you shall have garments, and Perfumes to kill the smell o' the prison ; after. When you shall stretch yourself, and say but, ' Arcite, I am in plight !' there shall be at your choice Both sword and armour. Palamon. O you heavens, dares any So noble bear a guilty business? None ^o But only Arcite ; therefore none but Arcite In this kind is so bold. Arcite. Sweet Palamon — Palamon. I do embrace you, and your offer: for Your offer do- 't I only, sir ; your person. Without hypocrisy, I may not wish More than my sword's edge on 't. ^Horns winded within. Arcite. You hear the horns ; Enter your musit, lest this match betwean 's Be cross'd ere met. Give me your hand; farewell! I '11 bring you every needful thing ; I pray you Take comfort, and be strong. ACT III. SCENE IL gj Palamon. Pray hold your promise, loo And do the deed with a bent brow. Most certain You love me not; be rough with me, and pour This oil out of your language. By this air, I could for each word give a cuff, my stomach Not reconcil'd by reason ! Arcite. Plainly spoken ! Yet pardon me hard language: when I spur My horse, I chide him not; content and anger \Horns winded again. In me have but one face. — Hark, sir! they call The scatter'd to the banquet; you must guess I have an office there. Palamon. Sir, your attendance "o Cannot please heaven; and I know your office Unjustly is achiev'd. Arcite. I 've a good title, I am persuaded ; this question, sick between 's, By bleeding must be cur'd. I am a suitor That to your sword you will bequeath this plea, And talk of it no more. Palamon. But this one word: You are going now to gaze upon my mistress; For, note you, mine she is — Arcite. Nay, then — Palamon. Nay, pray you ! — You talk of feeding me to breed me strength: You are going now to look upon a sun 15-0 That strengthens what it looks on; there you have A vantage o'er me; but eiyoy it till I may enforce my remedy. Farewell! \^ExeHnt. 92 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Scene 1 1. Another Fart of the Forest. Enter Gaoler's Daughter. Daughter. He has mistook the brake I meant, is gone After his fancy. 'T is now well-nigh morning; No matter! would it were perpetual night, And darkness lord o' the world! — Hark! 't is a wolf; In me hath grief slain fear, and, but for one thing, . I care for nothing, and that 's Palamon. I reck not if the wolves would jaw me, so He had this file. What if I halloo'd for him? I cannot halloo ; if I whoop'd, what then? If he not answer'd, I should call a wolf, lo And do him but that service. I have heard Strange howls this livelong night; why may 't not be They have made prey of him? He has no weapons. He cannot run ; the jingling of his gyves Might call fell things to listen, who have in them A sense to know a man unarm'd, and can Smell where resistance is. I '11 set it down He 's torn to pieces ; they howl'd many together, And then they fed on him : so much for that! Be bold to ring the bell ; how stand I then ? 20 All 's char'd when he is gone. No, no, I lie, My father 's to be hang'd for his escape ; Myself to beg, if I priz'd life so much As to deny my act ; but that I would not, Should I try death by dozens ! — I am mop'd : Food took I none these two days — Sipp'd some water. I have not clos'd mine eyes, Save when my lids scour'd off their brine. Alas, Dissolve, my life ! let not my sense unsettle, Lest I should drown, or stab, or hang myself! 30 O state of nature, fail together in me, Since thy best props are warp'd! — So! which way now? ACT in. SCENE III. 92 The best way is the next way to a grave ; Each errant step beside is torment. Lo, The moon is down, the crickets chirp, the screech-owl Calls in the dawn ! all offices are done, Save what I fail in ; but the point is this, An end, and that is all ! [Exit. Scene III. The same Part of the Forest as in Scene I. Enter Arcite, with fneat, wine, fles, etc. Arcite. I should be near the place. — Ho, cousin Palamon ! Enter Palamon. Palamoti. Arcite? Arcite. The same; I 've brought you food and files. Come forth, and fear not; here 's no Theseus. Palamon. Nor none so honest, Arcite. Arcite. That 's no matter ; We '11 argue that hereafter. Come, take courage; You shall not die thus beastly ; here, sir, drink. I know you 're faint; then I '11 talk further with you. Palamon. Arcite, thou mightst now poison me. Arcite. I might; But I must fear you first. Sit down ; and, good now. No more of these vain parleys ! Let us not, lo Having our ancient reputation with us. Make talk for fools and cowards. To your health ! [Drinks. Palamon. Do. Arcite. Pray, sit down then ; and let me entreat you, By all the honesty and honour in you, No mention of this woman ! 't will disturb us; We shall have time enough. Palamon. Well, sir, I '11 pledge you. [Drinks. Arcite. Drink a good hearty draught; it breeds good blood, man. Do not you feel it thaw you .? 04 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Palamon. Stay ; I '11 tell you After a draught or two more. Arcite. Spare it not ; The duke has more, coz. Eat now. Palamon. Yes. Arcite. I am glad 20 You have so good a stomach. Palamon. I am gladder I have so good meat to 't. Arcite. Is 't not mad lodging Here in the wild woods, cousin? Palamon. Yes, for them That have wild consciences. Arcite. How tastes your victuals? Your hunger needs no sauce, I see. Palamon. Not much ; But if it did, yours is too tart, sweet cousin. What is this? Arcite. Venison. Palamon. 'T is a lusty meat. Give me more wine: here, Arcite, to the wenches We have known in our days! The lord-steward's daugh- ter; Do you remember her ? Arcite. After you, coz. 30 Palamon. She lov'd a black-hair'd man. Arcite. She did so; well, sir? Palamon. And I have heard some call him Arcite; and — Arcite. Out with it, faith ! Pala?non. She met him in an arbour : What did she there, coz? play o' the virginals? = Arcite. Something she did, sir. Palamon. Made her groan a month for 't ; Or two, or three, or ten. Arcite. The marshal's sister ACT III. SCENE IV. 95 Had her share too, as I remember, cousin, Else there be tales abroad ; you '11 pledge her ? Palamon. Yes. Arcite. A pretty brown wench 't is ! There was a time When young men went a-hunting, and a wood, 40 And a broad beech ; and thereby hangs a tale. — Heigh-ho ! Palamon. For Emily, upon my life ! Fool, Away with this strain'd mirth ! I say again. That sigh was breath'd for Emily ! Base cousin, Dar'st thou break first ? Arcite. You are wide. Palamon. By heaven and earth, There 's nothing in thee honest ! Arcite. Then I '11 leave you ; You are a beast now. Palamon. As thou mak'st me, traitor. Arcite. There 's all things needful, — files, and shirts, and perfumes. I '11 come again some two hours hence, and bring That that shall quiet all. Palamon. A sword and armour ? so Arcite. Fear me not. You are now too foul ; farewell ! Get off your trinkets ; you shall want nought. Palamon. Sirrah — Arcite. I '11 hear no more ! \Exit. Palamon. If he keep touch, he dies for 't. \Exit. Scene IV. Another Part of the Forest. Enter Gaoler's Daughter. Daughter. I 'm very cold ; and all the stars are out too, The little stars, and all that look like aglets : The sun has seen my folly. Palamon ! Alas, no ; he 's in heaven ! — Where am I now ? — 96 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Yonder 's the sea, and there 's a ship ; how 't tumbles ! And there 's a rock lies watching under water ; Now, now, it beats upon it ! now, now, now ! There 's a leak sprung, a sound one ; how they cry ! Run her before the wind, you '11 lose all else ! Up with a course or two, and tack about, boys ! lo Good night, good night; y' are gone ! — I 'm very hungry : Would I could find a fine frog ! he would tell me News from all parts o' the world ; then would I make A carack of a cockle-shell, and sail By east and north-east to the King of Pigmies, For he tells fortunes rarely. Now my father, Twenty to one, is truss'd up in a trice To-morrow morning ; I '11 say never a word. [Sings] For I '// cut my green coat afoot above my knee ; And I '// clip my yellow locks an inch below mine e'e. 20 Hey^ nonny, nonny, nonny. He V buy me a white cut, forth for to ride. And I ^11 go seek him through the world that is so wide. Hey, nonny, nonny, nonny. O for a prick now, like a nightingale, To put my breast against ! I shall sleep like a top else. \Exit. Scene V. Another Part of the Forest. Enter Gerrold, /^z^r Countrymen as morris-dancers, another as the B2Lvia.n,fve Wenches, and a Taborer. G err old. Fie, fie ! What tediosity and disensanity Is here among ye ! Have my rudiments Been labour'd so long with ye, milk'd unto ye, And, by a figure, even the very plum-broth And marrow of my understanding laid upon ye, And do you still cry * where,' and ' how,' and 'wherefore V You most coarse frize capacities, ye jane judgments. ACT HI. SCENE V. 97 Have I said ' thus let be,' and ' there let be/ And ' then let be,' and no man understand me? lo Proh Deum, medius fidius, ye are all dunces ! For why, here stand I; here the duke comes ; there are you, Close in the thicket ; the duke appears, I meet him, And unto him I utter learned things, And many figures ; he hears, and nods, and hums, And then cries ' rare !' and I go forward ; at length I fling my cap up ; mark there ! then do you. As once did Meleager and the boar, Break comely out before him, like true lovers, Cast yourselves in a body decently, 20 And sweetly, by a figure, trace and turn, boys ! 1 Coimtrynian. And sweetly we will do it, master Gerrold. 2 Countryma7i. Draw up the company. Where 's the la- borer ? 3 Coufitryfnan. Why, Timothy ! Taborer. Here, my mad boys ; have at ye ! Gerrold. But I say, where 's their women ? 4 Coimtrynian. Here 's Friz and Maudlin, 2 Countryman. And little Luce with the white legs, and bouncing Barbar}^ I Countryman. And freckled Nell; that never failed her master. Gerrold. Where be your ribands, maids .? Swim with your bodies, And carry it sweetly and deliverly; And now and then a favour and a frisk ! 30 Nell. Let us alone, sir. Gerrold. Where 's the rest o' the music ? 3 Countrymaji. Dispers'd as you commanded. Gerrold. Couple, then, And see what 's wanting. Where 's the Bavian 1 — My friend, carry your tail without offence Or scandal to the ladies; and be sure G 98 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. You tumble with audacity and manhood; And when you bark, do it with judgment. Bavian. Yes, sir. Gerrold. Quousque tandem? Here is a woman want- ing! 4 Countryman. We may go whistle ; all the fat 's i' the fire ! Gerrold. We have, 40 As learned authors utter, wash'd a tile ; We have been fatuus, and labour'd vainly. 2 Countryman. This is that scornful piece, that scurvy hilding, That gave her promise faithfully she would Be here. Cicely the sempster's daughter ! The next gloves that I give her shall be dog-skin ; Nay, an she fail me once — You can tell. Areas, She swore, by wine and bread, she would not break. Gerrold. An eel and woman, A learned poet says, unless by the tail 50 And with thy teeth thou hold, will either fail. In manners this was false position. I Countryman. A fire-ill take her ? does she flinch now ? 3 Coutttryman. What Shall we determine, sir? Gerrold. Nothing ; Our business is become a nullity. Yea, and a woeful and a piteous nullity, 4 Countryman. Now, when the credit of our town lay on it, Now to be frampal ! Go thy ways ; I '11 remember thee, I '11 fit thee ! Enter Gaoler's Daughter, and sings. The George alow came from the souths 60 F?'o?n the coast of Barbary-a ; And there he met with brave gallants of war. By one, by two, by three- a. ACT III. SCENE V. 99 Well haiPd, well hair d, you Jolly gallants / And whither now are you bound-a 'i O, let 7tie have your company Till I come to the Sound-a / The7'e was three fools fell out about an how let ; The one said it was an owl, The other he said nay, 7° The third he said it was a hawk, And her bells were cut away. 3 Countryman. There 's a dainty mad woman, master, Comes i' the nick, — as mad as a March hare ! If we can get her dance, we are made again ; I warrant her she '11 do the rarest gambols ! 1 Countryman. A mad woman ! We are made, boys. Gerrold. And are you mad, good woman ? Daughter. I 'd be sorry else ; Give me your hand. Gerrold. Why t Daughter. I can tell your fortune : You are a fool. Tell ten. I have pos'd him. Buz ! 80 Friend, you must eat no white bread ; if you do, Your teeth will bleed extremely. Shall we dance, ho ? I know you ; you 're a tinker : sirrah tinker — Gerrold. Dii boni ! A tinker, damsel ? Daughter. Or a conjurer : Raise me a devil now, and let him play * Qui passa ' o' the bells and bones ! Gerrold. Go, take her, And fluently persuade her to a peace. Et opus exegi, quod nee lovis ira, nee ignis — Strike up, and lead her in. 2 Countryman. Come, lass, let 's trip it ! 90 Daughter. I '11 lead. 3 Countryman. Do, do. \Wind horns. ipo THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Gerrold. Persuasively and cunningly; away, boys ! I hear the horns ; give me some meditation, And mark your cue. — \Exeunt all but Gerrold. Pallas inspire me ! Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia, Arcite, and traifi. Theseus. This way the stag took. Gerrold. Stay, and edify ! Theseus. What have we here ? Pirithous. Some country sport, upon my life, sir. Theseus. Well, sir, go forward ; we will edify. — Ladies, sit down ! we '11 stay it. Gerrold. Thou doughty duke, all hail ! — All hail, sweet ladies ! loo Theseus. This is a cold beginning. Gerrold. If you but favour, our country pastime made is. We are a few of those collected here, That ruder tongues distinguish villager ; And to say verity, and not to fable, We are a merry rout, or else a rable, Or company, or, by a figure, choris. That fore thy dignity will dance a morris. And I, that am the rectifier of all, By title Pedagogus, that let fall no The birch upon the breeches of the small ones, And humble with a ferula the tall ones, Do here present this machine, or this frame ; And, dainty duke, whose doughty dismal fame From Dis to Daedalus, from post to pillar. Is blown abroad, help me, thy poor well-wilier, And with thy twinkling eyes look right and straight Upon this mighty morr — of mickle weight — — is now comes in, which being glued together Makes morris, and the cause that we came hither, 120 ACT III. SCENE V. loi The body of our sport, of no small study, I first appear, though rude, and raw, and muddy, To speak, before thy noble grace, this tenour ; At whose great feet I offer up my penner. The next, the Lord of May and Lady bright, The Chambermaid and Servingman, by night That seek out silent hanging ; then mine host And his fat spouse, that welcomes to their cost The galled traveller, and with a beck'ning Informs the tapster to inflame the reck'ning; 130 Then the beast-eating Clown, and next the Fool, The Bavian, with long tail and eke long tool ; Cum multis aliis that make a dance : . ^ Say ay, and all shall presently advance. Theseus. Ay, ay, by any means, dear domine ! Pirithous. Produce. Gerrold. Intrate, filii ! Come forth, and foot it. Enter the four Countrymen, the Bavian, the Taborer, the five Wenches and the Gaoler's Daughter, with others of both sexes. They dance a morris. After ivhich Gerrold speaks the Epilogue. Ladies, if we have been merry. And have pleas 'd ye with a derry, And a derry, and a down, 140 Say the schoolmaster 's no clown. — Duke, if we have pleas'd thee too. And have done as good boys should do, Give us but a tree or twain For a Maypole, and again, Ere another year run out. We '11 make thee laugh, and all this rout. Theseus. Take twenty, domine. — How does my sweet- heart .'' Hippolyta. Never so. pleas'd, sir. 102 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Emilia. 'T was an excellent dance ; and, for a preface, I never heard a better. Theseus. Schoolmaster, I thank you. — is' One see 'em all rewarded. Firithous. And here 's something To paint your pole withal. \Gives money. Theseus. Now to our sports again ! Gerrold. May the stag thou hunt'st stand long, And thy dogs be swift and strong! May they kill him without lets, And the ladies eat his doucets ! — Come, we are all made ! — Dii Deaeque omnes ! [ Wind horns. Ye have danc'd rarely, wenches ! \Exeunt. Scene VI. The same Part of the Forest as iti Scene FIT. Enter Palamon from the bush. Palamon. About this hour my cousin gave his faith To visit me again, and with him bring Two swords and two good armours ; if he fail. He 's neither man nor soldier. When he left me, I did not think a week could have restor'd My lost strength to me, I was grown so low And crest-fallen with my wants ; I thank thee, Arcite, Thou art yet a fair foe, and I feel myself, With this refreshing, able once again To out-dure danger. To delay it longer lo Would make the world think, when it comes to hearing, That I lay fatting like a swine, to fight. And not a soldier. Therefore this blest morning Shall be the last, and that sword he refuses. If it but hold, I kill him with ; 't is justice : So, love and fortune for me ! — O, good morrow ! ACT III. SCENE VI. 103 Enter Arcite, with armours and swords, Arcite. Good morrow, noble kinsman ! Falamon. I have put you To too much pains, sir. Arcite. That too much, fair cousin, Is but a debt to honour, and my duty. Palamon. Would you were so in all, sir ! I could wish ye As kind a kinsman as you force me find 21 A beneficial foe, that my embraces Might thank ye, not my blows. A7'dte. I shall think either, Well done, a noble recompense. Falamon. Then I shall quit you. Arcite. Defy me in these fair terms, and you shew More than a mistress to me ; no more anger, As you love any thing that 's honourable ! We were not bred to talk, man \ when we are arm'd, And both upon our guards, then let our fury, Like meeting of two tides, fly strongly from us ! 30 And then to whom the birthright of this beauty Truly pertains — without upbraidings, scorns, Despisings of our persons, and such poutings, Fitter for girls and schoolboys — will be seen. And quickly, yours or mine. Will 't please you arm, sir? Or if you feel yourself not fitting yet. And furnish'd with your old strength, I '11 stay, cousin, And every day discourse you into health. As I am spar'd : your person I am friends with, And I could wish I had not said I lov'd her, 40 Though I had died \ but, loving such a lady. And justifying my love, I must not fly from 't. Falamon. Arcite, thou art so brave an enemy, That no man but thy cousin 's fit to kill thee. I 'm well and lusty ] choose your arms. I04 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Arcite. Choose you, sir. Falamon. Wilt thou exceed in all, or dost thou do it To make me spare thee ? Arcite. If you think so, cousin, You are deceiv'd ; for, as I am a soldier, I will not spare you ! Falamofi. That 's well said. Arcite, You '11 find it. Palamo7i. Then, as I am an honest man, and love so AVith all the justice of affection, I '11 pay thee soundly ! This I '11 take. Arcite. That 's mine then ; I '11 arm you first. \Proceeds to arm Falamon. Falamon. Do. Pray thee, tell me, cousin. Where gott 'st thou this good armour ? Arcite. 'T is the duke's ; And, to say true, I stole it. — Do I pinch you ? Falamon. No. Arcite. Is 't not too heavy ? Falamo7i. I have worn a lighter ; But I shall make it serve. Ai'cite. I '11 buckle 't close. Falamon. By any means. Arcite. You care not for a grand-guard ? Falamon. No, no ; we '11 use no horses ; I perceive 6o You 'd fain be at that fight. Arcite. I am indifferent. Falamon. Faith, so am I. Good cousin, thrust the buckle Through far enough. Arcite. I warrant you. Falamo?t. My casque now. A?rite. Will you fight bare-arm'd ? Falamon. We shall be the nimbler. Arcite. But use your gauntlets though : those are o' the least; Prithee take mine, good cousin. ACT III. SCENE VL 105 Palamon. Thank you, Arcite. How do I look ? am I fallen much away ? Arcite. Faith, very little ; love has us'd you kindly. Falamon. I '11 warrant thee I '11 strike home. Arcite. Do, and spare not ! I '11 give you cause, sweet cousin. Palamon {arming Arcite). Now to you, sir. 70 Methinks this armour 's very like that, Arcite, Thou wor'st that day the three kings fell, but lighter. Arcite. That was a very good one ; and that day, I well remember, you outdid me, cousin. I never saw such valour ; when you charg'd ' Upon the left wing of the enemy, I spurr'd hard to come up, and under me I had a right good horse. Fala?non. You had indeed ; A bright bay, I remember. A7rite. Yes. But all Was vainly labour'd in me ; you outwent me, 8c Nor could my wishes reach you : yet a little I did by imitation. Palamon. More by virtue ; You are modest, cousin. Arcite. When I saw you charge first, Methought I heard a dreadful clap of thunder Break from the troop. Palamon. But still before that flew The lightning of your valour. Stay a little ! Is not this piece too strait ? Arcite. No, no ; 't is well. Palamon. I would have nothing hurt thee but my sword ; A bruise would be dishonour. Arcite. Now I am perfect. Pala77ion. Stand off then ! Arcite. Take my sword ; I hold it better. lo6 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Palamo?i. I thank ye, no ; keep it, your life lies on it. ci Here 's one, if it but hold, I ask no more For all my hopes. My cause and honour guard me ! Arcite. And me my love ! Is there aught else to say? \They bow several ways ; then advance and stand. Palamofi. This only, and no more: thou art mine aunt's son, And that blood we desire to shed is mutual j In me thine, and in thee mine : my sword Is in my hand, and, if thou killest me, The gods and I forgive thee. If there be A place prepar'd for those that sleep in honour, loo I wish his we^ry soul that falls may win it. Fight bravely, cousin ; give me thy noble hand. Arcite. Here, Palamon; this hand shall never more Come near thee with such friendship. Palamon. I commend thee. Arcite. If I fall, curse me, and say I was a coward j For none but such dare die in these just trials. Once more farewell, my cousin ! Palamon. Farewell, Arcite ! \They fight. Ho?'ns ivithin; they stand. Arcite. Lo, cousin, lo ! our folly has undone us ! Palamon. Why ? Arcite. This is the duke, a-hunting as I told you ; no If we be found, we are wretched. O, retire, P'or honour's sake and safety, presently Into your bush again, sir ! We shall find Too many hours to die in. Gentle cousin, If you be seen, you perish instantly. For breaking prison ; and I, if you reveal me. For my contempt : then all the world will scorn us, And say we had a noble difference, But base disposers of it. Palamon. No, no, cousin ; I will no more be hidden, nor put off 120 ACT III. SCENE VL 107 This great adventure to a second trial. I know your cunning, and I know your cause. He that faints now, shame take him ! Put thyself Upon thy present guard — Arcite. You are not mad ? Palamon. Or I will make the advantage of this hour Mine own; and what to come shall threaten me, I fear less than my fortune. Know, weak cousin, I love Emilia; and in that I '11 bury Thee, and all crosses else. Arcite. Then come what can come. Thou shalt know, Palamon, I dare as well 130 Die, as discourse or sleep ; only this fears me, The law will have the honour of our ends. Have at thy life ! Palamon. Look to thine own well, Arcite ! [They fight again. Horns. Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia, Pirithous, and trai?i. Theseus. What ignorant and mad-malicious traitors Are you, that, 'gainst the tenour of my laws, Are making battle, thus like knights appointed, Without my leave, and officers of arms "i By Castor, both shall die ! Palamon. Hold thy word, Theseus ! We are certainly both traitors, both despisers Of thee and of thy goodness: I am Palamon, 140 That cannot love thee, he that broke thy prison ; Think well what that deserves ! and this is Arcite; A bolder traitor never trod thy ground, A falser ne'er seem'd friend: this is the man Was begg'd and banish'd ; this is he contemns thee, And what thou dar'st do ; and in this disguise, Against thine own edict, follows thy sister, That fortunate bright star, the fair Emilia — io8 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Whose servant, if there be a right in seeing, And first bequeathing of the soul to, justly 150 I am — and, which is more, dares think her his ! This treachery, like a most trusty lover, I call'd him now to answer. If thou beest, As thou art spoken, great and virtuous, The true decider of all injuries, Say, ' Fight again !' and thou shalt see me, Theseus, Do such a justice thou thyself wilt envy : Then take my life ! I '11 woo thee to 't. Pirithoiis. O heaven, What more than man is this ! Theseus. I 've sworn. Arcite. We seek not Thy breath of mercy, Theseus ! 'T is to me i6o A thing as soon to die as thee to say it, And no more mov'do Where this man calls me traitor, Let me say thus much : if in love be treason, In service of so excellent a beauty — As I love most, and in that faith will perish. As I have brought my life here to confirm, it. As I have serv'd her truest, worthiest. As I dare kill this cousin that denies it — So let me be most traitor, and ye please me. For scorning thy edict, duke, ask that lady 17c Why she is fair, and why her eyes command me Stay here to love her ? and if she say traitor, I am a villain fit to lie unburied. Palanion. Thou shalt have pity of us both, O Theseus, If unto neither thou show mercy ; stop, As thou art just, thy noble ear against us; As thou art valiant, for thy cousin's soul, Whose twelve strong labours crown his memory. Let 's die together, at one instant, duke ! Only a little let him fall before me, 180 That I may tell my soul he shall not have her. ACT TIL SCENE VI. 1 09 Theseus. I grant your wish ; for, to say true, your cousin Has ten times more offended, for I gave him More mercy than you found, sir, your offences Being no more than his. — None here speak for 'em ! For ere the sun set, both shall sleep for ever. Hippolyta. Alas, the pity ! now or never, sister, Speak, not to be denied ; that face of yours Will bear the curses else of after ages For these lost cousins. Emilia. In my face, dear sister, 19c I find no anger to 'em, nor no ruin ; The misadventure of their own eyes kill 'em : Yet that I will be woman and have pity. My knees shall grow to the ground but I '11 get mercy. Help me, dear sister ! in a deed so virtuous The powers of all women will be with us. — Most royal brother — Hippolyta. Sir, by our tie of marriage — Ei7iilia. By your own spotless honour — Hippolyta. By that faith, That fair hand, and that honest heart you gave me — Emilia. By that you would have pity in another, 200 By your own virtues infinite — Hippolyta. By valour, By all the chaste nights I have ever pleas'd you — Theseus. These are strange conjurings ! Pirithous. Nay, then, I '11 in too ! — By all our friendship, sir, by all our dangers. By all you love most, — wars, and this sweet lady — Emilia. By that you would have trembled to deny A blushing maid — Hippolyta. By your own eyes, by strength, In which you swore I went beyond all women. Almost all men, and yet I yielded, Theseus — Pirithous. To crown all this, by your most noble soul, 210 Which cannot want due mercy, I beg first ! no THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Hippolyta. Next hear my prayers ! Emilia. Last, let me entreat, sir ! Pirithous. For mercy ! Hippolyta, Mercy ! Emilia. Mercy on these princes! 2"heseus. Ye make my faith reel ; say I felt Compassion to 'em both, how would you place it ? Emilia. Upon their lives; but with their banishments. Theseus. You are a right woman, sister! you have pity. But want the understanding where to use it. If you desire their lives, invent a way Safer than banishment. Can these two live, 220 And have the agony of love about 'em. And. not kill one another.? Every day They'd fight about you, hourly bring your honour In public question with their swords. Be wise then, And here forget 'em ; it concerns your credit, And my oath equally : I have said, they die ! Better they fall by the law than one another. Bow not my honour. Emilia. O my noble brother, That oath was rashly made, and in your anger; Your reason will not hold it : if such vows 230 Stand for express will, all the world must perish. Beside, I have another oath 'gainst yours, Of more authority, I 'm sure more love ; Not made in passion neither, but good heed. Theseus. What is it, sister ? Pirithous. Urge it home, brave lady ! Emilia. That you would ne'er deny me anything Fit for my modest suit and your free granting. I tie you to your word now; if ye fail in 't, Think bow you maim your honour ; For now I am set a-begging, sir, I am deaf 240 To all but your compassion. How their lives ACT III. SCENE VL m Might breed the ruin of my name's opinion ! Shall any thing that loves me perish for me ? That were a cruel wisdom ; do men proin The straight young boughs that blush with thousand blossoms, Because they may be rotten ? O duke Theseus, The goodly mothers that have groan'd for these, And all the longing maids that ever lov'd, If your vow siand, shall curse me and my beauty, And, in their funeral songs for these two cousins, 250 Despise my cruelty and cry woe worth me, Till I am nothing but the scorn of women. For heaven's sake save their lives, and banish 'em ! Theseus. On what conditions ? Emilia. Swear 'em never more To make me their contention, or to know me. To tread upon thy dukedom, and to be, Wherever they shall travel, ever strangers To one another. Palamon. I '11 be cut a-pieces Before I take this oath ! Forget I love her ? all ye gods, despise me then ! Thy banishment 25o 1 not mislike, so we may fairly carry Our swords and cause along ; else never trifle, But take our lives, duke ! I must love, and will; And for that love must and dare kill this cousin. On any piece the earth has. Theseus. Will you, Arcite, Take these conditions 1 Palamon. He 's a villain then ! Pirithous. These are men ! Arcite. No, never, dukej 't is worse to me than begging, To take my life so basely. Though I think I never shall enjoy her, yet I '11 preserve 270 The honour of affection, and die for her. Make death a devil. 112 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Theseus. What may be done ? for now I feel compassion. Pirithous. Let it not fall again, sir ! Theseus. Say, Emilia, If one of them were dead, as one must, are you Content to take the other to your husband ? They cannot both enjoy you. They are princes As goodly as your own eyes, and as noble As ever fame yet spoke of: look upon 'em, And if you can love, end this difference ; 2S0 I give consent. — Are you content, too, princes ? Both. With all our souls. Theseus. He that she refuses Must die then. Both. Any death thou canst invent, duke. Palamon. If I fall from that mouth, I fall with favour, And lovers yet unborn shall bless my ashes. Arcite. If she refuse me, yet my grave will wed me, And soldiers sing my epitaph. Theseus. Make choice then. Emilia, I cannot, sir; they are both too excellent: For me, a hair shall never fall of these men. Hippolyta. What will become of 'em .'' Theseus. Thus I ordain it; And, by mine honour, once again it stands, 291 Or both shall die ! — You shall both to your country ; And each, within this month, accompanied With three fair knights, appear again in this place. In which I '11 plant a pyramid : and whether. Before us that are here, can force his cousin By fair and knightly strength to touch the pillar. He shall enjoy her; the other lose his head, And all his friends ; nor shall he grudge to fall. Nor think he dies with interest in this lady. 300 Will this content ye? Palamon. Yes. — Here, cousin Arcite, I am friends again till that hour. ACT III. SCENE VI. 113 Arcite. I embrace ye. Theseus. Are you content, sister ? Ejnilia. Yes ; I must, sir. Else botli miscarry. Theseus. Come, shake hands again then ; And take heed, as you are gentlemen, this quarrel Sleep till the hour prefix'd, and hold your course. Pala7non. We dare not fail thee, Theseus. Theseus. Come, I '11 give ye Now usage like to princes and to friends. When ye return, who wins, I '11 settle here ; Who loses, yet I '11 weep upon his bier. \Exeunt, H ACT IV. Scene I. Athens. A Room in the Prison. Enter Gaoler and First Friend. Gaoler. Hear you no more ? Was nothing said of me Concerning the escape of Palamon ? Good sir, remember ! I Friend. Nothing that I heard ; ACT IV. SCENE I. 115 For I came home before the business Was fully ended : yet I might perceive, Ere I departed, a great likelihood Of both their pardons ; for Hippolyta And fair-eyed Emily upon their knees Begg'd with such handsome pity, that the duke Methought stood staggering whether he should follow 10 His rash oath or the sweet compassion Of those two ladies ; and to second them, That truly noble prince Pirithous, Half his own heart, set in too, that I hope All shall be well : neither heard I one question Of your name or his scape. Gaoler. Pray heaven, it hold so ! Enter Second Friend. 2 Friend. Be of good comfort, man ! 1 bring you news, Good news. Gaoler. They 're welcome. 2 Friend. Palamon has cfear'd you And got your pardon, and discover'd how And by whose means he scap'd, which was your daughter's, Whose pardon is procur'd too ; and the prisoner — 21 Not to be held ungrateful to her goodness- Has given a sum of money to her marriage, A large one, I '11 assure you. Gaoler. Ye 're a good man And ever bring good news. 1 Friend. How was it ended ? 2 Friend. Why, as it should be ; they that never begg'd But they prevail'd had their suits fairly granted ; The prisoners have their lives. 1 Friend. I knew 't would be so. 2 Friend. But there be new conditions, which you '11 hear of At better time. Il6 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Gaokr. I hope they are good. 2 Friend. They 're honourable ; How good they '11 prove, I know not. 1 Friend. 'T will be known. 31 Enter Wooer. Wooer. Alas, sir, where 's your daughter? Gaoler. Why do you ask ? Wooer. O, sir, when did you see her ? 2 Friend. How he looks ! Gaoler. This morning. Wooer. Was she well ? was she in health, sir ? Where did she sleep ? I Friend. These are strange questions. Gaoler. I do not think she was very well; for, now You make me mind her, but this very day I ask'd her questions, and she answer'd me So far from what she was, so childishly, So sillily, as if she were a fool, 40 An innocent; and I was very angry. But what of her, sir ? Wooer. Nothing but my pity; But you must know it, and as good by me As by another that less loves her. Gaoler. Well, sir ? 1 Friend. Not right ? 2 Friend. Not well 1 Wooer. No, sir, not well ; 'Tis too true, she is mad. I Friend. It cannot be. Wooer. Believe, you '11 find it so. Gaoler. I half suspected What you have told me ; the gods comfort her ! Either this was her love to Palamon, Or fear of my miscarrying on his scape, 50 Or both. AC 7^ IV. SCEiVE I, , 117 Wooer. 'T is likely. Gaoler. But why all this haste, sir ? Wooer. I '11 tell you quickly. As I late was angling In the great lake that lies behind the palace, From the far shore, thick-set with reeds and sedges, As patiently I was attending sport, I heard a voice, a shrill one, and attentive I gave my ear ; when I might well perceive 'T was one that sung, and, by the smallness of it, A boy or woman. I then left my angle To his own skill, came near, but yet perceiv'd not 60 Who made the sound, the rushes and the reeds Had so encompass'd it. I laid me down. And listen'd to the words she sung; for then, Through a small glade cut by the fishermen, I saw it was your daughter. Gaoler. Pray go on, sir ! Wooer. She sung much, but no sense j only I heard her Repeat this often : ' Palamon is gone. Is gone to the wood to gather mulberries ; I '11 find him out to-morrow.' I Friend. Pretty soul ! Wooer. ' His shackles will betray him, he '11 be taken ; 70 And what shall I do then ? I '11 bring a bevy, A hundred black-eyed maids that love as I do. With chaplets on their heads of daffodillies, With cherry lips, and cheeks of damask roses, And all we '11 dance an antic fore the duke. And beg his pardon.' Then she talk'd of you, sir; That you must lose your head to-morrow morning, And she must gather flowers to bury you. And see the house made handsome. Then she sung Nothing but 'Willow, willow, willow;' and between 80 Ever was, ' Palamon, fair Palamon !' And ' Palamon was a tall young man !' The place Il8 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Was knee-deep where she sat ; her careless tressed A wreath of bulrush rounded ; about her stuck Thousand fresh water-flowers of several colours ; That methought she appeared like the fair nymph That feeds the lake with waters, or as Iris Newly dropt down from heaven. Rings she made Of rushes that grew by, and to 'em spoke The prettiest posies, — ' Thus our true love ^s tied,' go 'This you may lose, not me,' and many a one ; And then she wept, and sung again, and sigh'd, And with the same breath smil'd and kiss'd her hand. 2 Friend. Alas, what pity 't is 1 Wooer. I made in to her ; She saw me, and straight sought the flood; I sav'd her. And set her safe to land ; when presently She slipt away, and to the city made With such a cry and swiftness that, believe me. She left me far behind her. Three or four I saw from far off cross her, one of 'em loo I knew to be your brother; where she stay'd. And fell, scarce to be got away : I left them with her. And hither came to tell you. Here they are ! Enter Gaoler's Brother, Daughter, and others. Daughter. [Sings] May you never more enjoy the light, etc. Is not this a fine song? Brother. O, a very fine one I Daughter. I can sing twenty more. Brother. I think you can. Daughter. Yes, truly can I ; I can sing ' The Broom,' And 'Bonny Robin.' Are not you a tailor? Brother. Yes. Daughter. Where 's my wedding-gown ? Brother. I '11 bring it to-morrow. ACT IV. SCENE L 1 19 Daughter. Do, very rarely; 1 must be abroad else, no To call the maids, and pay the minstrels. [Sings] Ofai?', O sweet, etc. Brother. You must even take it patiently. Gaoler. *T is true. Daughter. Good even, good men ! Pray did you ever hear Of one young Palamon ? Gaoler. Yes, wench, we know him. Daughter. Is 't not a fine young gentleman ? Gaoler. 'T is love ! Brother. By no means cross her; she is then distemper'd Far worse than now she shews. I Friend. Yes, he 's a fine man. Daughter. O, is he so ? You have a sister ? I Friend. Yes. Daughter. But she shall never have him, tell her so, 120 For a trick that I know ; y' had best look to her, For if she see him once, she 's gone, she 's done And undone in an hour. All the young maids Of our town are in love with him ; but I laugh at 'em. And let 'em all alone : is 't not a wise course ? I Friend. Yes. Daughter. They come from all parts of the dukedom to him ; I '11 warrant ye — Gaoler. She 's lost. Past all cure ! Brother. Heaven forbid, man ! 129 Daughter. Come hither ; you 're a wise man. 1 Friend. Does she know him ? 2 Friend. No ; would she did ! Daughter. You 're .master of a ship t Gaoler. Yes. Daughter. Where 's your compass ? 120 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. ^ Gaoler. Here. Daughter. Set it to the north ; And now direct your course to the wood, where Palamon Lies longing for me ; for the tackling Let me alone : come, weigh, my hearts, cheerly ! All. Owgh, owgh, owgh ! 't is up, the wind is fair ; Top the bowling; out with the mainsail ! Where 's your whistle, master ? Brother. Let 's get her in. Gaoler. Up to the top, boy ! : Brother. Where 's the pilot ? 1 Friend. Here. Daughter. What kenn'st thou? 2 Friend. A fair wood. 140 Daughter. Bear for it, master ; tack about ! [Sings] When Cynthia with her borrowed lights etc. [Exeunt. Scene II. Athens. A Room in the Palace. Enter Emilia, with two pictures. Emilia. Yet I may bind those wounds up, that must open And bleed to death for my sake else. I '11 choose. And end their strife ; two such young handsome men Shall never fall for me : their weeping mothers. Following the dead-cold ashes of their sons. Shall never curse my cruelty. Good heaven, What a sweet face has Arcite ! If wise Nature, With all her best endowments, all those beauties She sows into the births of noble bodies. Were here a mortal woman, and had in her 10 The coy denials of young maids, yet doubtless She would run mad for this man. What an eye. Of what a fiery sparkle and quick sweetness. Has this young prince ! here Love himself sits smiling; Just such another wanton Ganymede ACT IV. SCENE 11. 12 1 Set Jove afire with, and enforc'd the god Snatch up the goodly boy, and set him by hmi, A shining constellation. What a brow, Of what a spacious majesty, he carries, Arch'd like the great-eyed Juno's, but far sweeter, 20 Smoother than Pelops' shoulder ! Fame and Honour, Methinks, from hence, as from a promontory Pointed in heaven, should clap their wings, and sing To all the under-world the loves and fights Of gods and such men near 'em. Palamon Is but his foil; to him, a mere dull shadow; He 's swarth and meagre, of an eye as heavy As if he had lost his mother; a still temper, No stirring in him, no alacrity; Of all this sprightly sharpness, not a smile. — 30 Yet these that we count errors, may become him; Narcissus was a sad boy, but a heavenly. O, who can find the bent of woman's fancy? 1 am a fool, my reason is lost in me ; I have no choice, and I have lied so lewdly That women ought to beat me. — On my knees I ask thy pardon, Palamon ! Thou art alone. And only beautiful ; and these the eyes. These the bright lamps of beauty, that command And threaten Love, and what young maid dare cross 'em? 40 What a bold gravity, and yet inviting, Has this brown manly face ! O Love, this only From this hour is complexion. Lie there, Arcite ! Thou art a changeling to him, a mere gipsy, And this the noble body. — I am sotted. Utterly lost ! my virgin's faith has fled me ! For if my brother but e'en now had ask'd me Whether I lov'd, I had run mad for Arcite ; Now if my sister, more for Palamon. — Stand both together !^ — Now come, ask me, brother; — 50 122 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Alas, I know not ! — Ask me now, sweet sister; — I may go look !' — What a mere child is fancy, That, having two fair gawds of equal sweetness, Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both ! — Enter a Gentleman. How now, sir? Gentleman. From the noble duke your brother, Madam, I bring you news : the knights are come ! Emilia. To end the quarrel ? Gentleman. Yes. Emilia. Would I might end first ! What sins have I committed, chaste Diana, That my unspotted youth must now be soil'd With blood of princes ? and my chastity 60 Be made the altar, where the lives of lovers — Two greater and two better never yet Made mothers joy — must be the sacrifice To my unhappy beauty? Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, and Attendants. Theseus. Bring 'em in Quickly, by any means ! I long to see 'em. — Your two contending lovers are return'd. And with them their fair knights ; now, my fair sister, You must love one of them. Ejnilia. I had rather both, So neither for my sake should fall untimely. Theseus. Who saw 'em ? Firithous. I a while. Gentleman. And I. 70 Enter Messenger. Theseus. From whence come you, sir ? Messenger. From the knights. ACT IF. SCENE II. 1 23 Theseus. Pray speak, You that have seen them, what- they are. Messenger. I will, sir, And truly what I think. Six braver spirits Than these they have brought — if we judge by the outside — I never saw nor read of. He that stands In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming Should be a stout man, by his face a prince, — His very looks so say him ; his complexion Nearer a brown than black; stern, and yet noble. Which shows him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers; 80 The circles of his eyes show fire within him. And as a heated lion, so he looks; His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining Like ravens' wings; his shoulders broad and strong; Arm'd long and round: and on his thigh a sword Hung by a curious baldrick, when he frowns To seal his will with ; better, o' my conscience, Was never soldier's friend. Theseus. Thou hast well describ'd him. Pirithous. Yet a great deal short, Methinks, of him that 's first with Palamon. 90 Theseus. Pray speak him, friend. Pirithous. I guess he is a prince too. And, if it may be, greater; for his show Has all the ornament of honour in 't. He 's somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of, But of a face far sweeter; his complexion Is, as a ripe grape, ruddy ; he has felt, Without doubt, what he fights for, and so apter To make this cause his own ; in 's face appears All the fair hopes of what he undertakes ; And when he 's angry, then a settled valour, 100 Not tainted with extremes, runs through his body. And guides his arm to brave things ; fear he cannot, 124 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. He shows no such soft temper, flis head 's yellow, Hard-hair'd, and curl'd, thick twin'd, like ivy-tods, Not to undo with thunder; in his face The livery of the warlike maid appears, Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blest him ; And in his rolling eyes sits Victory, As if she ever meant to crown his valour; His nose stands high, a character of honour; no His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies. — Emilia. Must these men die too ? Pirithous. When he speaks, his tongue Sounds like a trumpet ; all his lineaments Are as a man would wish 'em, strong and clean ; He wears a well-steel'd axe, the staff of gold ; His age some five-and-twenty. Messenger. There 's another, A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming As great as any ; fairer promises In such a body yet I never look'd on. ng Pirithous. O, he that 's freckled-fac'd ? Messenger. The same, my lord ; Are they not sweet ones ? Pirithous. Yes, they 're well. Messenger. Methinks, Being so few and well dispos'd, they show Great and fine art in nature. He 's white-hair'd, Not wanton-white, but such a manly colour Next to an auburn ; tough, and nimble-set. Which shews an active soul ; his arms are brawny, Lin'd with strong sinews ; to the shoulder-piece Gently they swell, like women new-conceiv'd, Which speaks him prone to labour, never fainting Under the weight of arms ; stout-hearted, still, 130 But, when he stirs, a tiger ; he 's grey-eyed, Which yields compassion where he conquers ; sharp ACT IV. SCENE III. 125 To spy advantages, and where he finds 'em He 's swift to make 'em his; he does no wrongs, Nor takes none ; he 's round-fac'd, and when he smiles He shows a lover, when he frowns a soldier. About his head he wears the winner's oak, And in it stuck the favour of his lady ; His age, some six-and-thirty. In his hand He bears a charging-staff, emboss'd with silver. 140 Theseus. Are they all thus ? Pirithous. They 're all the sons of honour. Theseus. Now, as I have a soul, I long to see 'em ! — Lady, you shall see men fight now. Hippolyta. I wish it. But not the cause, my lord : they would shew Bravely about the titles of two kingdoms ; 'T is pity love should be so tyrannous. — Oh, my soft-hearted sister, what think you ? Weep not, till they weep blood, wench ! it must be. Theseus. You have steel'd 'em with your beauty. — Honour'd friend. To you I give the field ; pray order it 150 Fitting the persons that must use it ! Pirithous. Yes, sir. Theseus. Come, I '11 go visit 'em ; I cannot stay — Their fame has fir'd me so — till they appear. Good friend, be royal ! Pirithous. There shall want no braver}^ Emilia. Poor wench, go weep ; for whosoever wins Loses a noble cousin for thy sins. \Exeu?tf. Scene III. Athens. A Room in the Prison. Enter Gaoler, Wooer, and Doctor. Doctor. Her distraction is more at some time of the moon than at other some, is it not .'' 126 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Gaoler, She is continually in a harmless distemper ; sleeps little, altogether without appetite, save often drinking; dreaming of another world, and a better ; and what broken piece of matter soe'er she 's about, the name Palamon lards it ; that she farces every business withal, fits it to every question. — Look, where she comes ! you shall perceive her behaviour. 9 Enter Daughter. Daughter. I have forgot it quite ; the burden on 't was ' down-a down-a ;' and penned by no worse man than Ge- raldo, Emilia's schoolmaster : he 's as fantastical, too, as ever he may go upon 's legs ; for in the next world will Dido see Palamon, and then will she be out of love with ^neas. Doctor. What stuff 's here ! poor soul ! Gaoler. Even thus all day long. Daughter. Now for this charm, that I told j^ou of: you must bring a piece of silver on the tip of your tongue, or no ferry; then if it be your chance to come where the blessed spirits are — there 's a sight now! — we maids that have our livers perished, cracked to pieces with love, we shall come there, and do nothing all day long but pick flowers with Proserpine ; then will I make Palamon a nosegay ; then let him — mark me — then — 24 Doctor. How prettily she 's amiss ! note her a little further. Daughter. Faith, I '11 tell you ; sometime we go to barley- break, we of the blessed. Alas, 't is a sore life they have i' the other place, such burning, hissing, howling, chattering, cursing ! O, they have shrewd measure ! Take heed : if one be mad, or hang or drown themselves, thither they go, Jupiter bless us ! and there shall they be put in a cauldron of lead and usurers' "grease, amongst a whole million of cutpurses, and there boil like a gammon of bacon that will never be enough. 34 Doctor. How she continues this fancy! 'T is not an en- graffed madness, but a most thick and profound melancholy. ACT IV. SCENE III. 127 Daughter. To hear there a proud lady and a proud city- wife howl together ! I were a beast, an I 'd call it good sport ! [Sings] / will he true, my stars, my fate, etc. \Exit Daughter. Gaoler. What think you of her, sir ? Doctor. I think she has a perturbed mind, which I cannot minister to. Gaoler. Alas, what then ? 44 Doctor. Understand you she ever affected any man ere she beheld Palamon ? Gaoler. I was once, sir, in great hope she had fixed her liking on this gentleman, my friend. Wooer. I did think so too ; and would account I had a great pen'worth on 't, to give half my state, that both she and I at this present stood unfeignedly on the same terms. Doctor. That intemperate surfeit of her eye hath dis- tempered the other senses ; they may return, and settle again to execute their preordained faculties ; but they are now in a most extravagant vagary. This you must do: con- fine her to a place where the light may rather seem to steal in than be permitted. Take upon you, young sir, her friend, the name of Palamon ; say you come to eat with her, and to commune of love ; this will catch her attention, for this her mind beats upon ; other objects, that are inserted 'tween her mind and eye, become the pranks and friskings of her madness. Sing to her such green songs of love as she says Palamon hath sung in prison ; come to her, stuck in as sweet flowers as the season is mistress of, and thereto make an addition of some other compounded odours which are grateful to the sense : all this shall become Palamon, for Palamon can sing, and Palamon is sweet, and every good thing. Desire to eat with her, carve her, drink to her, and still among intermingle your petition of grace and accept- ance into her favour \ learn what maids have been her com- panions and play-feres ; and let them repair to her with 128 THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN. Palamon in their mouths, and appear with tokens, as if they suggested for him. It is a falsehood she is in, which is with falsehoods to be combated. This may bring her to eat, to sleep, and reduce what is now out of square in her into their former law and regiment. I have seen it approved, how many times I know not j but to make the number more, I have great hope in this. I will, between the passages of this project, come in with my appliance. Let us put it in execution, and hasten the success, which, doubt not, will bring forth comfort. \Exeunt, THE DEATH OF ARCITE. ACT V. Scene I. Athens. An Opeii Space before the Temples of Mars, Venus ^ and Diana. ^;//earian Grammar (third edition). A. S., Anglo-Saxon. A. v., Authorized Version of the Bible (1611). B. and F., Beaumont and Fletcher. B. J., Ben Jonson. Camb. ed., " Cambridge edition" of Shakespeare, edited by Clark and Wright. Cf. {confer), compare. Clarke, " Cassell's Illustrated Shakespeare," edited by Charles and Mary Cowden- Clarke (London, n. d.). Coll., Collier (second edition). Coll. MS., Manuscript CoiTections of Second Folio, edited by Collier. Colman, 1778 ed. of B. and F., with notes by Colman, Reed, et al. D., Dyce (second edition). H., Hudson (" Harvard" edition). Halliwell, J. O. Halliwell (folio ed. of Shakespeare). Id. {idern), the same. K., Knight (second edition). L., H. Littledale's ed. of The Two Noble Kinsviett (London, 1876). Nares, Glossary, edited by Halliwell and Wright (London, 1859). Pro!., Prologue. S., Shakespeare. Schmidt, A. Schmidt's Shakespeare- Lexico7t (Berlin, 1874). Sk., Rev. W. W. Skeat's ed. of The Two Noble Kinsmen (Cambridge, 1875). Sr., Singer. St., Staunton. Theo. , Theobald. Tonson, 171 1 ed. of B. and F., published by Jacob Tonson (London). v., Verplanck. W., R. Grant White. Walker, Wm. Sidney Walker's Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare (London, i860). Warb., Warburton. Wb., Webster's Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1879). Weber, Henry Weber's ed. of B. and F. {1812). Wore, Worcester's Dictionary (quarto edition). The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare's Plays will be readily understood ; as T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriola?ms, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of King Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to The Passiotiate Pilgrim ; V. and A . to Venus and Adonis ; L. C. to Lover' s Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets. When the abbreviation of the name of a play is followed by a reference to page, Rolfe's edition of the play is meant. The numbers of the lines (except for the present play) are those of the " Globe " 6d. NOTES. THE PARTHENON AT ATHENS. PROLOGUE. This prologue is certainly not Shakespeare's. It is probably by Fletcher. " Several of his favourite images are employed in it, and the general style resembles that of his undoubted prologues " (L.). K. omits the whole of it, and Sk. the first twelve lines. 24 25 Weak . . . wnier. The quarto joins this to what precedes, put- tin^ a period after water. The arrangement in the text is due to D. 26. Tack. The reading of the folio;* the quarto has "taice. 29. Travail. The old eds. have "travell" or "travel." Cf. A. W. P- 153- * That is, the 1679 folio of B. and F. See p. 10 above. 154 NOTES. ACT I. Scene I. — The critics generally agree that this scene is Shake- speare's ; but Dowden, Nicholson, L., Furnivall, and H. assign the Song to Fletcher, to whom it probably belongs. The old stage-direction makes the bride " led by Pirithous ;" corrected by Theo.* On her tresses likewise hanging, Nicholson (quoted by L.) says : " This appearance of the bride in dishevelled hair, apparently a classic custom, betokened virginity, and was in use up to Jacobian times at least." He cites the reference to the marriage of the Coyntess of Essex to Somerset in A. Wilson's Life of James L: " She, thinking all the world ignorant of her slie practices, hath the impudence to appear in the habit of a Vir- gin, with her hair pendent almost to her feet; which Ornament of her body (though a fair one) could not cover the deformities of her soul." The ivheaten garland " seems to have been worn as an emblem of fer- tility, and perhaps also of peace — the causer of plenty " (L.). The .S'^;/^is " evidently intended to be sung by the Boy, who also strews flowers, as indicated in the stage-direction and at line 15 " (Sk.). 4. Maiden pinks. Fresh pinks. L. thinks the reference may be to "the Matted Pinck" of Bacon's Essay Of Gardens, wYi&ve it is specially commended for its odour. Miller {Gardener's Diet.) describes a kind oi Dianthiis as "the small creeping or Maiden Pink, commonly called the mated Pink by seedsmen." Sk. says that this is the Diattthus vir- i^inens, but the name is probably modern. We may add that S. refers to the pink only once (in R. and J. ii. 4. 61) and then figuratively. 5. S7nell-less yet most qztaint. Furnivall says : " I cannot get over Chaucer's daisies being called 'smell-less yet most quaint:' the epithets seem to me not only poor but pauper, implying entire absence of fancy and imagination." ^//rt'/«/=" trim, neat " (Sk.). 6 Thyme. Spelt " time " in the quarto -, as in M. N. D. ii. i. 249 and 0th. i. 3. 326, in the early eds. 7. Primrose, first-born child of Ver. Alluding, as Sk. says (in a note sent to L., correcting that given in his own ed.) "to the apparent ety- mology of the French name for the \)x\vi\xo'a&, primevere,^'' which was sup- posed to be =pri?fia veris. It is rather ■=^pri7n7ila veris, if taken from the Latin ; but Brachet supposes it to be the Italian primavera. The usual spelling in old writers is prii?ie-rose ; as in Bacon's Essay Of Gardens. 9. With her bells dim. Sk. (followed by H.) reads "hairbells dim." This, as L. remarks, " is very ingenious and supported by strong pre- sumptive evidence ;" but he goes on to show that the old reading is * That is, in the 1750 ed. of B. and F., edited by Theobald, Seward, and Sympson. L. says of it : " Theobald, who died before the edition had advanced very far, has left a few good notes ; Sympson's are occasionally presentable, but as for Seward — Seward ' never deviates into sense. ' ' ' Coleridge asks : ' ' Did the name of criticism ever descend so low as in the hands of those two fools and knaves, Seward and Sympson?" Again he apostrophizes the former thus: "Mr. Seward! Mr. Seward! you may be, and I trust you are, an angel ; but you were an ass." ACT I. SCENE I. 155 probably right. Sk. says that the system requires the accent on the second syllable ; but L. replies that' " the irregularity of the number of syllables and the words used in these third lines rather indicate that there is but ojie emphatic word in the line." Besides, as he adds, there is " an important strtcciural obstacle " to the arrangement of Sk. " Looking through the song, we see one half (three lines exactly) of each stanza occupied by one idea, and the remaining half devoted to a group of objects ;" and " the change would destroy this designed symmetry." Sk. also objects that bells " makes no sense " as applied to X-ho. prmtrose ; but S. uses it of the cowslip in Temp. v. I. 89, and both old and modern poets often make (^t-//^ blossom. Dim is as appropriate an epithet for the pritnrose as pale in W. T. iv. 4. 122 and Cymb. iv. 2. 221 ; but it is not so suitable for the harebell {Campatiula rotuiidifolia) or the blue-bell {Agrapkis mitans), which Sk. thinks to be probably the flower meant here. "Violets dim" in W. T. iv, 4. 120 (see our ed. p. 192) is not a parallel case, as dim seems there to be = retiring, modest, "half-hidden from the eye." 10. Oxlips. "The greater cowslip, Privitda elatior" (Schmidt). Cf. M. N. D. p. 149. Cradles. Mr. Furnivall wrote to Dr. R. C. A. Prior, author oi Popular Nanies of British Plants, for an explanation of this word and of the allu- sion to death-beds in the next line, and got the reply : " I am quite at a loss for the meaning of cradles and death-beds ;" but Mr. William Whale of the Egham Nurseries answered the same inquiry thus : " The root- leaves of the oxlip are cradle-shaped, but circular instead of long. The growth of the leaves would certainly give one an idea of the stem and oxlip flowers being lodged in a cradle [? saucer]. I have seen the mari- gold (the Calendula officinalis, or medicinal marigold, not the African or French sorts which are now so improved and cultivated in gardens) in my boyish days frequently placed on coffins ; and in a warm death-room they would certainly flower." L. quotes Per. iv. i. 16 : " and marigolds Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave While summer days do last." Cf. W. T. p. 191. On death-beds blo7ving may mean planted on graves, as it is said they still are in Wales, and probably elsewhere. 12. Larks'' -heels. " Not the same as larkspur, as one might suppose, but a kind of nasturtium, the Tropceohim mimis'''' (Sk.). The name was, however, sometimes used loosely for larkspur. Cotgrave, s. v. Aloiiette, has: "Pied d''alouefte, the herb Larks -spur. Larks -claw. Larks - heel, Larkes-toes, Monkshood." 16. Angel. " Literally, a messenger (Gk. ayyEKog), but here prettily used to signify a bird. The same use of the word occurs in Massinger's Virgin Martyr, ii. 2, where the Roman eagle is spoken of as ' the Roman angel.'' The idea is as old as Homer, who uses the expression olinivhv, raxi'v dyyeXov {Iliad, xxiv. 292). Observe, too, that angel implies a bird of good omen, to the exclusion of such ill-omened birds as the crow, the cuckoo, and the raven " (Sk.). 1^6 NOTES. 19. Slanderous. Because supposed to tell tales of unfaithful wives. Cf. L. L. L. V. 2. 908 : "The cuckoo, then, on every tree, Mocks married men," etc. See also M. N. D. iii. i. 134 and A. W. i. 3, 67 ; and cf. M. W. p. 143. 20. The boding raven. Cf. T. mid C.w.2. 191 and Otk. iv. i. 22. Chough hoar. The quarto has " dough hee," and the folio " dough he;" corrected by Seward. Cf. M. N. D. iii. 2. 21 ; and see Temp. p. 127. Charles Lamb wanted to read '* The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, The boding raven, nor the chough" (the pronunciation choo is said to be still heard in the North of England), and L. prefers this to " Seward's very feeble bit of tinkering." He objects to hoar that it is " a purely descriptive epithet, and utterly devoid of any symbolic meaning, while all the rest have some reference to the require- ments of the case." It may be added that the emendation makes the verse very clumsy ; but \i nor at the end of 19 is right, this is inevitable, whatever rhyming word may be supplied, 21. Chattering pie. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. v. 6. 47 : "And chattering pies in dismal discords sung." 22. Bride-house. Nares quotes N'omenclator, 1585 : " A bride-house, as when a hall or other large place is provided to keepe the bridall in, when the dvvelling house is not of sufficient roome to serve the turne ;" and the old Taming of a Shreiv: "Why come, man, we shall good cheere Anon at the bride house," 24. Walker asks : " Is the Epithalamium broken off by the entrance of the Queens? It seems unfinished; and it is more natural, I think, that it should be interrupted." 25. Gentility. Gentle birth; as in A. Y. L. i. I. 22 : "mines my gen- tility with my education." 33. Raze you. Erase for you. Cf. Gr. 220. 34. All you, etc. All for which you, etc. 36. Stead. Assist. See M. of V. p. 133, note on May you stead me? 40. Endure. The quarto has "endured," and the folio "endur'd;" corrected by Mason. In Chaucer Creon is " of Thebes kyng," as here. 41. Talons. Spelt " Tallents " in the quarto. Cf. the pun in Z. L. L, iv. 2. 64, and see our ed. p. 146. For the grouping of birds of prey, cf. J. C. v. i. 85 : "ravens, crows, and kites." 44. Urn. Cf. inurn''d in Ham. i. 4. 49. Spalding notes the Shake- spearian character of the verb, as of chapel in 50 below. See Gr. 290 (cf. p. 5). 45. Eye Of holy Phoebus. Cf. Hen. V. iv. I. 290 : "Sweats in the eye of Phoebus," and A. and C. iv. 8. 29 : " holy Phoebus' car." 47. Duke. Cf M. N. D. i. i. 19 : " Theseus, our renowned duke ;" and see our ed. p. 125. ACT I. SCENE I. 1157 48. Purger. Cf. J. C. ii. I. 180: "We shall be call'd purgers, not murtherers." Spalding remarks that "verbal names expressing the agent . . . are in an especial manner frequent with Shakespeare, who invents them to preserve his brevity, and always applies them with great force and quaintness." 55. Transported. Rapt; as in Temp. i. 2. 76. "Theseus means that he would have bidden her rise sooner, only that he was so carried away by her story as to make him unobservant of her attitude" (Sk.). 58. Vengeance and revenge. The tautology is apparently emphatic. Cf. Rich. II. iv. I. 67 : "shall render vengeance and revenge." 59. Capaneus. " Four syllables, accented on the first and third. Chau- cer also has it as four syllables, but accents it on the second and fourth. Properly, it has but three syllables, being the Gk. Y^aTTuvi-vQ. Capaneus was one of the seven heroes who marched from Argos against Thebes. The story is that he was struck by lightning as he was scaling the walls, because he had dared to defy Zeus ; and, whilst his body was burning, his wife Evadne leaped into the flames and destroyed herself. The story in Chaucer and in this play is somewhat different, as Evadne answers to the First Queen" (Sk.). 64. Spread her. Overspread her, cover her. Seward ("stupidly," as L. says) would omit her, but, as Sk, remarks, "this does not improve either the sense or the metre ; the introduction of an extra syllable at a pause in the verse is no blemish, but a beauty." Cf. Or. 454. H. omits her. 66. Kins7nan. Sk. quotes the Life of Theseus in '^oxiWs, Plutarch : " They were neere kinsmen, being cosins remoued by the mothers side. For ^thra [Theseus' mother] was the daughter of Pitheus, and Alcmena, the mother of Hercules, was the daughter of Lysidices, the which was halfe sister to Pitheus, both [being] children of Pelops and of his wife Hippodamia." Cf. M. N. D. v. 1.47 : "In glory of my kinsman Her- cules." Sk. says that '■'■ Hercules is apparently a dissyllable here;" but it should certainly have its ordinary pronunciation, the light extra sylla- ble not marring the measure. 68. Nemean. The early eds. have " Nenuan ;" corrected by Seward. For the pronunciation, cf Ham. i. 4. 83 and L. L. L. iv. i. 90. See Ham, p. 195. 73. Whereto. In addition to which. Cf thereto in W. T. \. 2. 391, 0th. ii. I. 133, and Cymb. iv. 4. 33. 74. Our 7inde7'taker. The man to undertake the work of avenging us. S. uses the word only twice {T. N. iii. 4. 349 and 0th. \v. 1. 224), and in both instances with a meaning similar to this. Sk. quotes Fletcher, Lovers Progress, i. i : " First, for the undertaker, I am he ;" Hallam, Const. Hist, of Eng.: "Neville, and others who, like him, professed to understand the temper of the commons, and to facilitate the King's dealings with them, were called undertakers ;^^ and Spectator, No. 432 : " I find you are a gen- eral undertaker," etc. 75. Bellona. For the allusion to the Roman goddess of war, zi. Macb. \. 2. 54: "Bellona's bridegroom." See our ed. p. 155. 80. Wast near to make, etc. " ' Didst nearly make the male sex cap- tive to thine own sex, had it not been that this lord of thine, Theseus — 158 NOTES. who was born to keep created things in the same relative position of honour in which nature first appointed them — caused thee to shrink back within the bound which thou wast overflowing.' Creation properly means all created things, but is here used with particular reference to human beings. Cf. Gen. iii. i6 " (Sk.). StyVd ?V= fixed the style or rank of it. 87. Whonozv, [know. The quarto has " Whom" for Who ; corrected by D. The old reading may have been a " confusion of construction." Cf. K. John, p. 166, note on Whom. For pozver on, cf. T. G\ of V. iii. I. 238 : " power upon my life ;" Cymb. V. 5. 418 : " The power that I have on you is to spare you," etc. 88. Ow'st. Ownest, possessest ; as in v. 4. 50 below. Cf. Rich. II. p. 204. 89. Servant. Sk. remarks : " Servant is used not quite in the modern sense, but in the old sense of an obedient and devoted lover ; see iii. 6. 149 below. It is the proper antithesis of mistress. Thus, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Philaster, iii. 2, Philaster addresses Arethusa as ' my dear- est mistress^ whereupon Arethusa replies with ' my dearest servant.'' The best comment upon this is furnished by the words of Theseus in Chau- cer's Knightes Tale., 956 — ' For in my Xyvs\& a sertiauut was I oon. And therfor, sine I know of tones peyne,'' etc." For — 'a.s regards ; as often in S. Cf. Gr. 149. Seward (followed by II.) changed yi'r to " to." 90. Glass of ladies. "A Shakespeare fancy," as Spalding notes. Cf. IIa?n. iii. I. 161 : "The glass of fashion;" and see our ed. p. 219. Cf. also Hen. V. p. 152, note on The mirror, etc. 93. Require hifn he advance it. Ask him to raise it. On advance, cf. Cor. p. 210 ; and for require, see on v. i. 39 below. 98. Than a dove''s motion, etc. L. quotes R. of L. /[^"j : "Like to a new-kill'd bird she trembling lies." 99. Blood-siz'd. Cf. Ham. ii. 2. 484 : "o'er-sized with coagulate gore " (that is, covered as with size or glue). 102. / had as lief, etc. I would as soon follow out this good work with you as the marriage ceremony to which I am bound, though I never yet went so willingly as to that. For had as lief, see A. Y. L. p. 139. 107. Uncandied. Thawed, dissolved. Cf. " candied with ice " in T. of A. iv. 3. 226, and discandy (=thaw) in A. and C. iii. 13. 165 and iv. 12. 22. ' 108. So sorrozv, etc. " So sorrow, lacking shape (that is, power of ex- pression), is oppressed with still greater occasion for it" (Sk.) ; or sor- row becomes the deeper for being unable to utter itself. 111. There, through viy tears, etc. There you see it only imperfectly, as pebbles appear distorted in the running brook. Wrinkled, to our thinking, is peculiarly expressive, Seward changes there to "here" — in my heart (with appropriate gesture). 112. Glassy. The early eds. have "glass" or "glasse;" corrected by Seward. 113. May behold ''ei7i. D. and H. read "it" for ''em. In our opinion the change to the plural is to be explained by the intervening /^^/V^'j- ; ACT 1. SCENE I. 159 but Nicholson thinks it is made "either because she is thinking of her eyes as ostents of her grief, or, what is much the same, because she is thinking of the grief in either eye, and therefore griefs.^'' Sk. compares the use oi tkeir = \ris, in iii. 5. 128 below. 114. He that will, etc. "He who desires to discover all the world's wealth must dig deeply towards its centre; he who would win the least good- will from me must let his search descend to my heart, like one who, fishing for minnows, so loads his line with lead as to make it sink deeply. The simile is intentionally strained and far-fetched, to denote the queen's distress ; as explained in the next sentence" (Sk.). 118. Extremity, etc. L. quotes B. and F., Honest Mail's Fortune, iii. I ; -'Cunning Calamity, That others' gross wits uses to refine, When I most need it, dulls the edge of mine." 122. Ground-piece. Perhaps =study for a picture, sketch ^S^.). L. thinks ground may be =surface, and "^r^^/;;z<:/-//>^^ = pictured as distin- guished from sculptured work, superficial seeming ; or (2) gro2tnd=io\\\\- dation [cL gi'ound-work) znd grouj/d-piere = model, subject matter; or (3) ^;'<7//«^/= principal, main, chief, and groztful-Jjieee = m3.sterpiecQ ; or (4) ground^foW, dull 'ground' of a picture, as contrasted with the glare and prominence of her sorrow." In any case, " seeming and l>eing are contrasted." 132. Lonoer. The old eds. have "long ;" corrected by Seward. 134. Knolls. Cf A. V. L. ii. 7. 114: "where bells have knoll'd to church." See our ed. p. 166. 135. Your first thought, etc. Sk. remarks: "Possibly suggested by a passage in North's Plutarch, immediately preceding that quoted in the note to 66 above : ' For then he did manifestly open himselfe, and he felt the like passion in his heart which Themistocles long time afterwards endured when he said, that the victorie and triumph of Miltiades would not let him sleepe. For euen so, the wonderful admiration which The- seus had of Hercules courage made him in the night that he neuer dreamed but of his noble acts and doings, and in the daytime, pricked forward with emulation and enuie of his glory, he determined with him- selfe one day to do the like, and the rather because they were neere kinsmen,' etc. Again, in the same Life of Theseus, ed. 1612, p. 15, we read: ' Others say . . . that he was at the iourney of Cholchide [Colchis] with Tason, and that he did helpe Meleager to kil the wild bore of Caly- donia : from whence, as they say, this prouerbe came : Not without The- seus ; meaning that such a thing was not done without great helpe of an- other. Howbeit it is certaine that Theseus selfe did many famous acts without aide of any man, and that for his valiantnesse this prouerbe came in vse, which is spoken : This is another Theseus. Also he did helpe Adrastus, king of the Argives, to recouer the bodies of those that were slaine in the battell before the city of Thebes.' " 136. Meditance. Premeditation ; not found elsewhere in S. 138. As ospreys, etc. Cf. Cor. iv. 7. 34 : " As is the osprey to the fish," etc. See the note in our ed. p. 261. Here, as there, the spelling is as- tray in the old eds. i6o NOTES. 142. Cords, knives, drams, precipitance. That is, hanging, stabbing, poison, leaping down a precipice. K. and Sk. read "cords', knives', drams' precipitance;" making /7-^^z}!'//«;z^^ = " headlong haste, desperate rashness." The early eds. have no comma after drajns. Sk. compares Cymb. V. 5. 213 and Otk. iii. 3. 388. 1430 Weary of this world'' s light. Sk. quotes Virgil, ^n. vi. 434 : " Proxima deinde tenent moesti loca, qui sibi letum Insontes peperere manu, lucenique perosi Proiecere animas." 146. Visitating. Surveying. Sk. cites Cotgrave, Fr. Did. : " Visiter, to visit, or go to see ; to view, survey, overlook, oversee." Visit is often similarly used in S. ; as in Temp. i. 2. 308, M.for M. iii. i. 46, iii. 2. 272, Z. L. L. V. 2. 861, etc. 149. To give. By giving ; " one of the commonest constructions in S." Cf. iii. I. 25 below ; and see Gr. 356. 152. Noiu U will take form, etc. That is, "Strike while the iron is hot " and can be shaped, not wait till it is cold, when you will sweat to no purpose in trying to make it take form. 154. It's. See W. T. p. 155. In i. 2. 65 below, the quarto has " its." Secure. Careless, unguarded. See Ham. p. 196. 155. N'ot dreams. Seward and H. change Not to " Nor." 156. Rinsing. The early eds. have " wrinching," which, as L. notes, is " probably phonetic." In Hejt. VIII. i. i. 167, the ist folio has " wrench- ing." There is no other instance of the word in S. 158. Full of bread. Cf. Ham. iii. 3. 80. Sk. quotes Ezek. xvi. 49. 159. " Artesius must be supposed to be an Athenian captain, present on the stage, though no speech is assigned to him, and his entrance and exit are alike unnoticed in the old copies. Theseus addresses him again in 211 ; and the proper time for his exit is at 218 " (Sk.). D. and H. take^/" to be the verb, and point the passage thus : " Artesius, that best know'st 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," etc. AVe prefer (with Sk. and L.) to follow the early eds. 165. Take hands. " Let us join hands and depart together; intended as an expression of despair" (Sk.). 166. Let us be widows to our woes. Hickson cites this as an example of Shakespeare's " certain boldness of metaphor, carried sometimes to that extreme that it requires a considerable effort of the understanding to follow it." It is certainly far from clear, but we think it means. Let us continue to weep over our woes, as we do over our husbands ; we have no hope here. Sk. says : " Perhaps this obscure expression inti- mates that they would not have even the opportunity of mourning at their husbands' tombs. Having no memorials of their husbands to point to, they had but their woes to shew that they were widows." L. explains it thus : " Let us be widows to our woes, as well as to our husbands ; for as Creon has left our dead lords unburied, so our woes have been left unburied by Theseus." ACT I. SCENE I. ^ 1 6 1 172. War, The early eds. have " was ;" corrected by Theo. Itnforls = concerns. 1 76. Lock. Detain by embraces. For sytiod as applied to an assem- bly of the gods, see Cor. p. 266, or A. V. L. p. 173. 177. Corslet. See on «^'«, 44 above. 178. Twinning. The early eds. have "twyning" or "twining;" cor- rected by Theo. Cf. B. and F., Night- Walker, iii. 6 : "Let me suffer death If in my apprehension two twinn'd cherries Be more akin than her lips to Maria's;" and Pkiiaster, ii. 2 : " they are two twinn'd cherries " (referring to lips). Fall. Let fall ; as often in S. Cf. y. C. p- 169, 179. Tasteful. Not found elsewhere in S. Richardson quotes Cra- shdiVi, Tk£ Flaming H-eari : *' Say, all ye wise and well-pierc'd hearts, That live and die amidst her darts, What is 't your tastefjd spirits do prove, In that rare life of her, and 1-ove ?" 180. Blubber'' d. "The reader ought to recollect that formerly this word did not convey the somewhat ludicrous idea which it does at pres- ent" (D.). The only other instance of it in the text of S. (it is found in a stage-direction in 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 421) is in R. and J. iii. 3. 87, where it is put into the mouth of the Nurse. For the form, see Gr. 374 (cf. 290). 186. Tlwugh viuch mdike, etc. " Though I think it very improbable that you should be so transported as she describes, and equally sorry that I should urge such a petition as I now proceed to make " (Sk.). H. reads " much I like," which seems unmaidenly. 190. Siir/eiL Sickness, from excess of grief, 195. Or sentencing^ etc " Or forever condemning their power to si- lence " (Sk,)- H. explains it : " Or concl»ding them to be forever with- out force, or no better than speechless," 209. Success, Accented on the first syllable. Cf. v, 3. 69 below. 210. Pretended, Intended. See Macb. p. 202 (note on Pretence), or T. G. of V. p, 136. 211. Follow your soldier, etc. The early eds, point the line thus: *' Follow your Soldier (as before) hence you ;" corrected by Mason. 212. Aidis. The early eds. have "Anly;" corrected by Theo. H. adopts Heath's conjecture of "Ilisse" (=Ilyssus), assuming that the name of a river is required; but bank (as Sk. and L. note) is often ap- plied to the sea-shore. See i Hen. IV. iii, i. 45, 2 Hen. VI. iii- 2. 83, Rick. III. iv. 4. 525, Sonii. 56. II, etc. 214. Moiety. Part ; not necessarily a hal£ See Hatn. p. 174. 215, More bigger look\L " Which was expected to have been a greater one. We are to suppose that Theseus had planned some great expedi- tion, to be undertaken after his marriage-feast was over, and had col- lected part of an army for that purpose. He now intends to march against Thebes, the taking of which he looked upon as easy, without completing that army to its full number " (Sk.). For the double com- parative, see Gr. II ; and for the form of look'd, cf, blubber'' d\n 180 above. L i62 ' NOTES. 2i6. Sdifup . . . cnri-ant . . . token. There is a play upon the words as applied to coin. 222. Wiint. Lack, be incomplete. H. adopts Seward's conjecture of *' wait." Sk. remarks : " The suggestion is a poor one ; he must have forgotten the common use of ivajit in our old dramatists.'- Cf. T. ofS. iii. 2. 4, etc. On solemnity, cf. A. W. ii. 3. 187, T. of S. iii. 2. 103, etc. 230. They themselves. That is, the gods, who are sometimes slaves to their passions. 233. Hinnaii. The quarto has "humane." Cf. Macb. p. 218. Hu- vian title — iho. right to the name of man. Spalding says of this scene : " It has sometimes Shakespeare's identi- cal images and words ; it has his quaint force and sententious brevity, crowding thoughts and fancies into the narrowest space, and submitting to obscurity in preference to feeble dilation ; it has sentiments enunci- ated with reference to subordinate relations, which other writers would have expressed with less grasp of thought; it has even Shakespeare's alliteration, and one or two of his singularities in conceit; it has clear- ness in the images taken separately, and confusion from the prodigality with which one is poured out after another, in the heat and hurry of im- agination ; it has both fulness of illustration, and a variety which is drawn from the most distant sources ; and it has, thrown over all, that air of originality and that character of poetry, the principle of which is often hid when their presence and effect are most quickly and instinctively perceptible." Hickson remarks: "The first thing that seems to indicate the pres- ence of the mind of Shakespere is the clearness with which, in the first scene, we are put in possession of the exact state of affairs at the open- ing of the play, without any circumlocution or long-winded harangues, but naturally and dramatically. And, indeed, one of the most striking characteristics of Shakespere is, if we may so express it, the downright honesty of his genius, that disdains anything like trick or mystery. This is almost peculiar to Shakespere. Where, in his works, as much is re- vealed at the very opening as is necessary to the understanding of the plot, we find, in the works of other dramatists, as much kept back as possible ; and we are continually greeted with some surprise or starded with some unexpected turn in the conduct of the piece." Scene II. — i. Dearer in love than blood. Sk. contrasts this with Ham. i. 2. 65 : "A little more than kin, and less than kind." 2. Prifne. Chief, first in our love. 6. We shame. H. reads "were shame." 8. /' the aid d' the airrent. With the stream. "What Arcite means to urge as a reason for their quitting Thebes is, that, if they struggled against the current of the fashion (which is denoted by «^/ swimming in the aid of it), their striving would answer no purpose; and that, if they followed the common stream, it would lead them to an eddy where they would either be drowned or reap no advantage from their labouring through it but life and weakness" (Mason). ACT I. SCENE II. 165 13. Ruins. " Not material ruins of houses, but wrecks of men, that is, men who are but wrecks of their former selves. Palamon is follow- ing up the idea started by Arcite, that the men in Thebes were mostly- coming to ruin. Hence the word tvalkiug may just as well agree with riihis as refer to Palamon himself; and he goes on to say that he sees upon them little else but scars and bare garments (such being the com- mon meaning oi weeds in our old authors) ; and these scars are all that the martialists (or men fond of war) really gain, though hoping to win honour and money. Observe the phrase ' when such I meet ' in 21 ; and so in 27 " (Sk.). There can be no doubt, we think, that walking refers to ruins. For weeds, cf. M. N. D. p. 149. Z?ar£' = threadbare. L. notes that martialist is not used elsewhere by S., while B. and F. have the word twice. 18. Had not. "Did not get for himself, for it went to the captain. Cf. 34 below " (Sk.). Fiurted. Scorned ; used by S. only in the compound flurt-gills {R. and y. ii. 4. 162), but rather common in B. and F. 22. Jealousy. Referring to the origin of the Trojan war. 24. For her repletion. L. makes this ^against her repletion, as a rem- edy for it (Gr. 154) ; but we do not see why it may not mean on account of it. Repletion is not used elsewhere by S. i't'^/«z« = " employ, take into service; as in Hen. VITT. i. 2. 192" (L.). H. adopts Heath's conjecture of" reclaim." Sk. suggests '* regain ;" but, as L. says, regain ane^v would be =gain anew anew. 28. Cranks. Winding streets. 40. Even jump. Just exactly. Cf. Ham.^. 172. 41. As they are here, etc. Weber and Sk. follow the oM eds. in putting the comma after . 184. 46. And so did they. Explaining why the Wooer had not seen them. 53. lord, the difference of men ! Sk. quotes Lear, iv. 2. 26 : " O, the difference of man and man !" Spalding gives this scene (as he does all the underplot) to Fletcher ; but Hickson is firm in the belief that it is Shakespeare's. The fact that it is in prose is against its being Fletcher's ; and so is the fact that it does not fit exactly with the next scene, which is certainly his. In this scene the kinsmen are referred to as if in conversation, but in the next they begin with mutual salutations. There the Daughter speaks of them as having no sense of their captivity and as discoursing nothing of their own restraint and disasters, while here they discourse of nothing else. Scene II. — Weber, D., and Sk. make this scene a continuation of the preceding ; but the quarto distinguishes the two. Cf p. 35 above. 17. Have. H. adopts Dyce's conjecture of "had." 21. Wore. The old eds. have " were ;" corrected by Seward. D. reads " ware." 22. Ravish' d. Snatched from. The old eds. have " Bravishd ;" cor- rected by Seward. 28. Too-timely. Too early, too forward. Yox timely = t2ix\y,c(. C. of E. i. I. 139: "my timely death." 31. Loaden. For the form, cf. i Hen. IV. p. 140. 51. Stuck. The early eds. have " Strucke" or " Struck." The emenda- tion is due to Heath, and is favoured by the comparison of the swine to a quiver. For the allusion to the Parthian custom of shooting as they fled, cf Cymb. i. 6. 20 : " Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight." Uses — exercises. 54, Lazily. The old eds. have " lastly," which is explained as =" worst of all ;" but the measure as well as the sense of the context favours Seward's emendation of " lazily." 58. Mere. Absolute. See Temp.'p. iii, note on We are merely cheated, etc. 63. Main goodness. " Special piece of good luck " (Sk.). 172 NOTES. 64. 'Iwin'd. The old eds. have "twyn'd" or "twinM;" but perhaps we should read " twinn'd," with Seward, K., and L., as that word was often spelled with one n. See on i. i. 178 above. Weber, D., Sk., and H. have twiji'd. 74. Conversation. Intercourse with others. 91. Grave. Bury, destroy. The old eds. have "Crave," which L. de- fends. Grave is due to D., and is adopted by Sk. and H. Theo. suggests " Craze," Sympsou «' Carve," Mason " Cleave," and Heath " Raze." 100. A more conte^it. A greater content than there. For j?tore, see Gr. 17. 112. Record. The noun is often accented by Elizabethan writers on the last syllable. Cf. Ham. p. 197. 118. This garden, etc. The old eds. give this line to Arcite ; corrected by Seward. 122. Forward. That is, go on with what you were saying. " Palamon had said above, ' you shall hear me ;' and now Arcite is eagerly waiting to hear the remainder of his speech. Palamon, engrossed in watching Emilia, pays little attention, and merely says 'yes,' without adding more. Hence Arcite's repeated remonstrance below, ' Will you go forward, cousin .'" And again he says, ' Cousin ! how do you, sir ? why, Pala- mon ' — supposing, for the moment, that Palamon is seized with a fit of illness. Cf. iii. 5. 98 below " (Sk.). 138. Gently. A trisyllable here. Gr. 477. Cf. iv. i. in below. 142. She locks her heatdies in her bud again. Cf Keats, St. Agnes'' Eve: " As though a rose should shut, and be a bud again." Sk. also notes this poetic parallel. 146. Can cofne near. H. changes near to "to." 156-159. I will not, etc. L. compares L. L. L. iv. 3. 64 : "A woman I forswore; but I will prove, Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee : My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love ; Thy grace Iseing gain'd cures all disgrace in me." 163. Mankind. Accented on the first syllable ; as it is by S., except in T. of A. (Schmidt). 171, 172. If that will lose ye, etc. H. gives, without note or comment : " If that will lose ye, farewell, Palamon ! I say Again, I love her; and, in loving her, maintain," etc. The addition of "her" in 172 was suggested by Walker, who would arrange thus : " I say again I love her; and, in loving her, maintain," etc 191. If he be hit one. "That is, if the enemy be but a single person. The ' enemy,' in this instance, is Emilia. Arcite's reply is — suppose the enemy would prefer to fight with me; that is, suppose Emilia were to prefer me. Palamon rejoins that, in that case, Arcite would be free to love ; othertoise, he looks upon him as a villain " (Sk.). 215. Enter Gaoler. In the old theatre the platform of the stage would be the garden, while the raised balcony at the back would be the interior ACT IL SCENE III. 173 of the prison, where Palamon and Arcite are, and where the Gaoler now enters. 231. Apricock. Apricot; the old spelling. Qi. Rich. II.'^.i^']. 261. Pelting. Paltry. See M. N. D. p. 142. 269. Morris. That is, morris-dance. Cf. iii. 5 below, where one is in- troduced. Spalding remarks that " this scene, if it be Fletcher's, is among the very finest he ever wrote." Hickson says that " with all its beautiful poetry, it does not exhibit dramatic power." Scene III. — 10. Into thee. H. has " unto thee ;" but whether it is a misprint or an emendation we cannot say. 21. Another shape. That is, a disguise. On 7nake nie, cf. 0th. v. I. 4: " It makes us, or it mars us," etc. 26. Have with ye. I '11 be with you. See A. Y. L. p. 146. 31. Hold. Hold to our engagement. 35. Ye know. The old eds. have "yet know ;" corrected by Seward. 37. Keep totuh. Keep his appointment ; a phrase of doubtful origin. Nicholson says that it probably came from the custom of shaking hands on a bargain or agreement. Cf. the old word handfast. 38. Horn-book. The child's primer, which at first was a single leaf set in a frame of wood, and covered with horn to keep it from being soiled or torn. See Chambers, ^^'c/^ ^Z?a;j/j-, vol. i. p. 47. Cf. Z. Z. Z. v. i. 49: *' he teaches boys the horn-book." 43. For our town. That is, for its credit or honour. 44. Weavers. Probably =singers here. For the reputation of weavers as singers, see i Hen. IV. p. 165, or T. P/. p. 137. 46. By any means. By all means ; as in iii. 5. 134 below. For says the old eds. have "sees ;" corrected by Seward. 48. Farlonsly. Amazingly. See M. A^. P. p. 155, or Gr. 461. 49. Makes no cry. Makes no noise, amounts to nothing. 50. Tackle. " Equipments, things prepared for the occasion " (Sk.). 65. Trick d' the hip. Trick in wrestling. Sk. says : " The reference is not to the hip of the vanquished wrestler, as some think, but^to that of the victor. If a wrestler can succeed in hitching his hip in a certain way under his adversary's body, he may often succeed in throwing with almost irresistible violence. This is the ' trick of the hip ' referred to here and by Shakespeare." Cf. M. of V. i. 3. 42, iv. i. 334, and 0th. ii. i. 314. For the use of vengeance, cf. Cor. ii. 2.6: " he's vengeance proud ;" and see our ed. p. 227. 68. He roast eggs! "A contemptuous expression, intimating the speak- er's doubt as to Arcite's capacity even for cooking an egg. The phrase ' like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side ' is in A. Y. L. iii. 2. 38. It looks as if eggs were sometimes roasted, like apples, before the fire, and required turning at intervals. Ray gives the phrase ' 1 have eggs on the spit ' as a common proverb, adding that it means ' I am very busy. Eggs, if they be well roasted, require much turning.' Two more proverbs are ' Set a fool to roast eggs, and a wise man to eat them ;' and ' There goes some reason to the roasting of eggs'" (Sk.). 174 NOTES. 73. E'er flew. The old eds. have " never flew," which Sk. thinks may- be what the author wrote. Cf. Gr. 406. 76. Happiness. Good luck. As Spalding says, "neither this scene nor the following have anything in them worthy of particular notice." Scene IV. — 2. Affect. Love. See Much Ado, p. 124. 18. Coih Ado, stir. See Much Ado, p. 146, or M. N. D. p. 168. 20. Fairer spoken. See Gr. 374 (cf. 294). Scene V. — 4. Allotv. Approve, praise. L. quotes Webster, Westward Ho, iii. 4 : " they allow my wit for it extremely." 7. Gave me life. H. adopts Seward's conjecture of " my " for me. 9. Proves yon. That is, to be a gentleman. Sire is here a dissyllable ;' XxV^t fires in V. 1.3 below. Gr. 480. 12. Deep cry. "Deep-mouthed" {T.ofS.'iwA. i. 18) pack. See Cor. p. 248. 16. Proper. Comely. ^e.e. M. of V.Y).iT,2,Vi0ie, on A proper mati'spictzire. 24. Baser garments. It will be borne in mind that Arcite is disguised as a countryman. 26. Pnrchase. Win, gain. Cf. y^. KZ. p. 177. 51. To do observance, etc. Cf. M. N'. D. i. i. 167 : " To do observance to a morn of May." 65. Wise. Discreet. Scene VI. — Devils roar. "Probably we have here a relic of the old mysteries. Cf. Rich. III. iv. 4. 75, Hen. V. iv. 4. 75 [see our ed. p. 179], etc." (L.). . _ 33. Patch. The old eds. have "path." The emendation is Dr. Ingle- by's, and is adopted by L. Cf. Ham. iv. 4. 18. 35. Whoo-bub. Hubbub. See W. T. p. 204. ACT JII. Scene I. — 2. Laund. Lawn, glade. The old eds. have "land." Lanndvf2iS suggested by D. Cf. 3 He/i. VI. iii. I. 2 : " For through this laund anon the deer will come ;" and see our ed. p. 154. Sk. cites Chau- cer, Kn. T. 833 : " And to the launde he rydeth him ful ryghte." Sev- ^r^/=separate. 6. Buttons. Buds. Cf. Ham. i. 3. 40. 7. Knacks. Knick-knacks. Cf. W. T. p. 199. 10. Place. The old eds. have " pace ;" corrected by Seward. 12. Eftsoons. Soon after ; used again in Per. v. i. 256. 13. Chop. " Exchange, make an exchange. Arcite means, Oh ! that I might, whilst thou art meditating, come between, soon after some cold or sober thought, and make an exchange, by changing those cold thoughts to thoughts of love !" (Sk.), ACT III. SCENE I. 175 36. Void'' St. The old eds. have *' voydes ;" corrected by Sympson. 37. Gentle token. The mark or badge of gentle birth. 40. Appointment. Accoutrement, weapons. See on i. 4. 15 above. • 42. Nor worth. L. conjectures "not worth," which may be right. • 43. House-clogs. That is, his fetters. 44. Cozener. Cf. the similar play on cousin in I Hen. IV. i. 3. 254 ; and for other instances see our ed. p. 155. 45. As thou hast show'd me feat. That is, in keeping with your behav- iour. 47. Your blazon. Your description. " The original sense of blason in Old French was simply a shield; then it came to mean a coat-of-arms, which is still the sense it has in French ; then, in English only, it passed on to the sense of description of arms, and even to description in a gen- eral sense, as in Ham. i. 5. 21, Micch Ado, ii. i. 307 " (Sk.). 52. Skip them. Ignore their existence. ' 54. Griefs. Grievances ; as often. Cf. i Hen. IV. p. 192. 58. Advertised. Accented on the second syllable ; as it is regularly in S. Cf. Rick. Ill p. 235. 68. CompelVd. Accented on the first syllable because followed by a noun so accented. See Schmidt, p. 1413 fol. Cf. M.for M. ii. 4. 57 : "I talk not of your soul ; our compell'd sins," etc. On the passage, cf. Macb. v. 7. i : "They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, But, bear-like, I must fight the course." 72. Qiiit me of these cold gyves. Free me from these iron fetters. Cf. Cymb. p. 215, note on 14. 74. Come before me then, etc. Sk. cites Macb. iv. 3. 234 : *' Within my sword's length set him ; if he scape Heaven forgive him too!" 83. With counsel of the night. When the approach of night tells me that I may safely do it. Sk., who makes (rd'w;/j(?/=" assistance," consid- ers it " rather a bold phrase ;" but the transition from advice to assist- ance is an easy one. 86. The smell 6' the prison. This gives us a hint of the "unsanitary" condition of prisons in the poet's time. Sk. refers to iii. 3. 48, 51 below. 88. In plight. In condition for the combat. Cf. T. and Cm. 2. 168: " To keep her constancy in plight," etc. 89. Dares. The reading of the quarto, and, to our thinking, preferable to the "dare" of the folio and the modern editors (except L.). 90. Business. Changed by D. and H. to "baseness." Sk. has " nobly " for noble. The meaning is, "Dares any one who shews himself so noble be capa- ble of aught base.'' None, save Arcite, could be so; and therefore in proportion to the height of his generosity is the depth of his base- ness" (L.). 97. Musit. The early eds. have " Musicke " or " Musick ;" corrected by K. Nares defines miisit-AS, "the opening in a hedge through which a hare, or other beast of sport, is accustomed to pass." Cf. V. and A. 683 : 176 NOTES. ' The many musits through the which he goes Are like a labyrinth, to amaze his foes ;' ' where a hunted hare is referred to. Here the word is == hiding-place, loi. Befit brow. That is, a frowning or angry brow. Cf. i Hen. VI. V. 3. 34 : " See how the ugly wench doth bend her brows !" and 3 Hen. VI. V. 2. 19 : "And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow ?" 104. My stomach, etc. That is, if my stomach were not, etc. Sk. thinks that stomach is " probably ^inclination, used much as we now use palate ; the oil did not suit his palate and he could scarcely persuade himself to like it." The word may, however, be ^resentment (cf. Leaj'^ p. 254), as some explain it. 112. / V^. The old eds. have "If;" corrected by Seward. 114. Bleeding. For the figure, cf. Rich. II. i. i. 157, 2 Hen. IV. iv. i. 5* etc. Scene II. — i. Brake. The old eds, have " Beake " or " Beak ;" cor- rected by Weber (the conjecture of Theo.). Sympson suggested " brook," and Seward reads "beck" ( = brook). Cf. ii. 6. 6 above. Sk. remarks : "Just above (iii. 1.30) we have — 'Enter Palamon out of a bush.'' And again below (iii. 6. 1 13) we have — ' into your btish again !' We may compare also Arcite's expression — 'your hawthorn-house ' (iii. I. 82) with Shakespeare's expression — ' This green plot shall be our stage, this haw- thoxn-brake our tiring-house ' {M. N. D. iii. I. 3), and again, ' enter into that brake'' in the same scene, 'j'].^'' 5. But for one thing. H. reads "but one thing," as '■''for serves no purpose but to mar both sense and rhythm." The change does not im- prove the measure, and mars the sense by shifting the accent from one to thing. 7. Reck. The quarto has " wreake," as the word is sometimes spelled in the early eds. of S. So reckless is sometimes spelled " wreakless." The v^xhjaw is not found elsewhere in S. 19. Fed. The quarto has " feed," 20. Be bold to ring the bell. " You may, without hesitation, begin to toll the bell for him ; that is, he is certainly dead " (Sk.). H. thinks the reference is probably to " the bell of the prison, which will be rung as an alarm-signal when Palamon is found to have escaped." 21. All 'j chared. The deed is done. For the noun chare (the Yankee " chore"), see A. and C. p. 210. Sk. says : " The present passage is par- ticularly well illustrated by the old proverb, given in Hazlitt's collection, *That char is r/za!rV(that business is done), as the good wife said when she had hanged her husband.' In the Marriage of Wit and Science (Haz- litt's Old Plays, ii. 375), we have — 'This char is char'd well now, Ignorance, my son, Thou seest.all this, how featly it is done.' We also find, in B. and F., the spelling chewre ; as in Love's Cnre, iii. 2 : * Here 's two cheivres chewr\l.^ " 25. Mofd. Moping, stupid. Cf. Ham. p. 237. 26, 27. Food took I none, etc. We follow the old eds. except in the ACT III. SCENE III. 177 pointing. Cf. iv. 3. 4 below. Sympson conjectured " 'cept some water." Seward filled up a supposed gap thus : " Food took I none these two days, only sipt Some water, two nights I Ve not clos'd my eyes," etc. D. (followed by Sk. and H.) reads : "Food took I none these two days; once, indeed, I sipp'd some water; I've not clos'd mine eyes," etc. H. has, however, " have " for " I 've." L. says : " It is possible that some words have dropped out ; guessing can avail little in such a case." 28. Brine. The old eds. have " bine ;" corrected by Tonson. Cf. i. 3. 22 above. 29. Lest I should droxvji, etc. " The enumeration of deaths should be noticed, and their connection with insanity " (L.). Cf. i. i. 142 and iv. 3. 30 below ; also Temp. iii. 3. 58. 31. State of nature. " Natural reasoning power" (Sk.). Cf. Lear, i. 4. 290 and Macb. i. 3. 140. Together. Apparently = altogether ; otherwise it seems a strange word here. We wonder that somebody has not suggested "fall together" (^collapse). 33. Next. Nearest. Cf. W.T.]). 181. 35. Crickets . . . screech-ozvl. Sk. quotes Macb. ii. 2. 16: "I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry." 36. All offices are done, etc. " All the duties of the day and night are done, and a new day is beginning; I alone have failed to give Palamon the file I brought for him, which might have saved him" (Sk.). Spalding, who assigns this scene (with all the underplot) to Fletcher, says that there is " some pathos in several parts of the soliloquy, but lit- tle vigour in the expression, or novelty in the thoughts." Hickson re- marks : " It is to this scene that we referred by anticipation as giving an instance of Shakespeare's judgment. It can hardly be said to explain any necessary circumstance ; . . . but it supplies the due gradation be- tween a mind diseased and madness ; and in connection with another scene at which we shall shortly arrive, it displays a depth of insight into the psychological character of this state only exceeded by Shakespeare himself, in Lear. Let our readers observe in particular the unselfish anxiety for Palamon's safety, and her subsequent terror at her own dis- ordered senses. The introduction of the popular notion that wild beasts 'have a sense to know a man unarm'd' is quite a Shakespearian illus- tration ; and we do not know an instance of finer drawing than this of her imagination painting, as absolute reality, the subject of her first fear. From this conviction (of Palamon's death) we come naturally to the con- cluding lines, beyond which the next step is madness." Scene III. — 6. Beastly. Like a beast. Cf. Cymb. iii. 3. 40 : " We are beastly, subtle as the fox for prey," etc. For the adverbial use, cf. A. and C. p. 178. 34. Virginals. " A keyed instrument, somewhat like a small piano- forte, probably so called because used by young girls " (Nares). It was M 178 NOTES. VIRGINAL. sometimes called a fair of virginals ; as in Dekker's GuPs Hornbooke: "leap up and down like the nimble jacks of a i>air of virginals." See also Harper''s Mag. vol. Iviii. p. 857. The noun is not used by S. (this scene is not his), but virginalling occurs in W. T. i. 2. 125. 41. Thereby hangs a tale. Cf M. W. i. 4. 159, T. of S. iv. I. 60, A. Y. L. ii. 7. 28, etc. 45. Break. That is, break our agreement. 51. Fear me not. Fear not for me. Cf. M.for M. iv. i. 70, etc. 53. Keep touch. See on ii. 3. 37 above. " This is one of those scenes by the introduction of which Fletcher succeeded in spoiling a good play " ( L. ). Spalding says : " In most respects the scene is not very characteristic of either writer, but leans towards Fletcher ; and one argument for him might be drawn from an interchange of sarcasms between the two kinsmen, in which they retort on 'each other former amorous adventures : such a dialogue is quite like Fletcher's men of gaiety ; and needless degradation of his principal characters is a fault of which Shakespeare is not guilty." Hickson says : " The 3d scene, without any doubt, is by Fletcher. Arcite brings 'food and files' to Pal anion ; and, after some patter of early reminiscences between them utterly out of character, they sepa- rate." Scene IV. — 2. Aglets. " Properly, tags to laces, or ( as here ) the bright tops or heads of such tags" (Sk.); or "spangles" (L.). Coles ACT III. SCENE IV. 179 {Latin Did.) gives both " An Aglet (tag of a point), (Evamentiim lignlce,^'' and also " An Aglet (a little plate of metal), Bractea, Bracteola''' C(. Spenser, F. Q. ii. 3. 26 : "yclad, for heat of scorching aire, All in a silken camus lilly-white, Purfled upon with many a folded plight, Which all above besprinckled was throughout With golden aygulets, that glistred bright, Like twinckling starres." See also 71 ^6". p. 138, note on Aglet-baby. 9. Run. The early eds. have " Vpon " or " Upon." Seward reads " Up with," and Weber (followed by D. and H.) " Spoom " (Theo. had suggested " Spoon "), which they explain as =" let her spoom." Rtm is the emendation of Sk., who says : " The old text has 'Upon her,' where the first two letters are clearly due to the repetition of the Up of the next line ; and the most likely word is one which shall be a short monosylla- ble, ending with n. Nearly all the modern editions read Spoom her^ from a conjecture of Weber's, founded on the fact that spoom occurs in Beaumont and Fletcher's Double Marriage, ii. i ; but the word spoom, in that passage, is an intransitive verb, meaning to sail steadily, and is a mere variation, apparently, of spume (foam), as if the sense were to throw up foam. Nares remarks: 'an attempt has been made to introduce spoom into the Two Noble Kinsmen, iii. 4, but with small critical judg- ment' " 10. Course. A name applied to the large lower sails of a ship. See Temp. p. Ill, note on Set her two courses. 14. Carack. A large ship. See 0th. p. 160. Sk. says : " Cotgrave has * Carraque, the huge ship termed a Carricke.' Cf. Span, carraca, Ital. caracca, a ship of heavy burden." 15. Pigmies. "A fabulous people, said to be of the height oi2ipygme (TTvynrj), or 13^ inches, mentioned by Homer {Iliad, iii. 5) as dwelling on the shores of Ocean, and at times subject to attacks by cranes. Dwarfs have often been credited with supernatural powers, especially in Northern mythology" (Sk.). Cf Mtich Ado, ii. i. 278. 19. Sk. suggests that this Sotig may have been part of an old ballad. He compares The N^ut-broivn Maid : " Lo yet, before, ye must do more, Yf ye wyll go with me : As cut your here up by your ere, Your kyrtel by the kne." 22. He 's. A vulgar contraction of he shall, still in use in the North of England. Cf. Gr. 461. See also Lear, p. 248, note on 220. Sk. (as quoted by L.) suggests that it be printed lie s\ For cut as applied to a horse, see i Hen. IV. p. 156, or T. N'. p. 139 (note on Call me cut). Cf also v. 2. 44 below. ■• 25. O for a prick now, etc. Allusions to the old idea that the night- ingale presses her breast against a thorn while singing are very common in the poets. Cf. Z*. P. 379 : " Everything did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone ; l8o NOTES. She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the doleful!" st ditty," etc. Hickson says of this scene : "there is some affectation of nautical lan- guage (why, Heaven only knows), and the rest is mere incoherent non- sense." Spalding has nothing of importance to say about it. Scene V. — The Baviaft. A character sometimes introduced into the morris -dance, dressed up as a baboon. He performed some pantomimic tumbling, with occasional barking like a dog. Cf. 33-37 below. 2. Tediosity and disensanity are the pedantic coinage of the School- master. L. compares The Spanish Curate, iii. 2 : " I have taught these twenty years, Preach'd spoonmeat to ye, that a child might swallow. Yet ye are blockheads still." 8. Prize. A coarse woollen cloth (cf. 0th. p. 173), 2iSjane was a cheap cotton one. For the latter the old eds. have "jave;" corrected by D. Seward has "sleave" (cf. Macb. p. 191), and K. "jape." II. Mediiis fidius. "An old Latin oath, apparently short for me dius Fidiiis adtjivet, may the divine Fidius help me ! \{ fidius stands ior filius, then it means, may the divine son of Jupiter help me ! The reference, in that case, is most likely to the god Hercules " (Sk.). 18. Meleager. The hero who slew the monstrous boar in the woods of Calydon. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. p. 153, note on 231. 21. Trace. A term in dancing. L. quotes several instances of the noun ; as Spenser, Shep. Kal. June : " trimly trodden traces ;" Handfid of Pleasant Delites : "Yet daunceth on the trace," etc. 29. Deliverly. Nimbly. Under the adjective, Nares quotes Holinshed : "nimble, leane, and deliver men;" and, again: "all of them- being tall, quicke, and deliver persons," etc. 38. Quousque tandem ? How long ? evidently from Cicero's ist Ora- tion against Catiline : " Quousque tandem abutere, Catilina, patientia nostra ?" 41. Wash''d a tile. Laboured in vain. " It is a Latin proverb, laterem lavare, and occurs in Terence, Phormio, i. 4. 9. There is a similar proverb in Greek, ttKivOovq ttXvvhv, to wash bricks " (Sk.). 42. Patuus. Foolish. 43. Hilding. A term of contempt. See R. and J. p. 172. 45. Sempster. Sempstress ; which word has a double feminine affix, -ster being originally feminine, as it still is in spinster. Cf. the old play of The Roaring Girl (quoted by Nares) : "6". A sempster speak with me, sayst thou?. N. Yes, sir, she 's there viva, voce.'''' 48. Wine and bread. That is, the sacrament. Cf. R. and J. iii. 5. 177 : " God's bread ! it makes me mad." Break. That is, break her promise. H. has " brake," which is probably a misprint. 49. An eel and tvoman, etc. Sk. says: "In Hazlitt's Collection of ACT III. SCENE V. i8i Proverbs we find * There is as much hold of his words as of a wet eel by the tail.' Who the 'learned poet' is, I cannot say. Plautus [Fseiidolus, ii. 4. 56) has ' anguilla est, elabitur.' " 53. A fire-ill take her ! " Pox take her !" (Nares). Cf. T. of A, iv. 3. "142. Seward reads "feril" (=ferule), and Sk. "wildfire." 58. Frampal. Pettish, perverse. We find the ioxva frampold in M. W.. ii. 2. 94. See our ed. p. 146. 60. Alow. Low down ; " possibly referring to the appearance of a ship on the horizon" (Sk.). Quite as likely, as L. suggests, it is a mere ex- clamation. 67. / cojne. The early eds. omit /, which was supplied by Jonson. Weber reads " we come." 68. Howlet. Owlet. See Macb. p. 228. '] /^. r the nick. That is, in the nick of time. 80. Tell ten. Count ten. *' It was a trial of idiocy to make the person count his fingers " (Weber). For tell, cf. Temp. p. 123. See also v. 4. 56 below. For buz as an interjection of impatience when one is about to tell what is already known, see Hani. p. 208, or Macb. p. 243. 87. Qui passa. Here passes (Italian) ; unexplained in this connection. It may be the contracted name of some old tune. The bells are those of the morris-dancers. For the bones as instruments of music, see M. N. D. p. 173, note on The tongs and the bones. 88. To a peace. " To be quiet " (Sk.) ; or, perhaps, to an alliance with us, to joining our dance (L.). Mason would read "a place," and Weber suggests "a pace" ( = a dance). 89. Et opus exegi, etc. From Ovid, Met. xv. 871 : " lamque opus exegi, quod nee lovis ira nee ignes Nee poterit ferrum nee edax abolere vetustas. " 101. A cold beginning. A play on hail. Cf. L. L. L. v. 2. 339. Walker cites Dekker, Old Fortunatus : " ^ ndelocia. Brother, all hail ! Shadow. There 's a rattling salutation." L. adds, from The Faithful Friends, iii. 2 : ^'^ Pergantus. All hail! Learclnis. He begins to storm already." and Cleveland, A zealons Discourse between the Persoii of the Parish and Tabitha : " Hail, Sister, to your snowy Breast — The Word permitteth us to jeast," etc. 104. Distinguish villager. Mark as villagers or peasants. 106. Rable. The pedagogue's rhyming variation of rabble, as choris of chorus. So in 113 he accents machine on the first syllable. 112. Ferula. Sk. says : " It was made of wood and shaped like a bat- tledore, but with the bat much diminished, so as to be adapted for ad- ministering a severe pat on the palm of the victim's hand. In a picture called * The Schoolmaster,' by Gerard Douw, in the Fitzwilliam Museum, i82 NOTES. Cambridge, it will be seen that the master holds di ferula in his left hand, ready for use." 114. For the alliteration, cf. M. N. D, v. i. 147 ; and see our ed. p. 184. 118. Mickle. Much, great. Cf. R. and J. p. 169. 123. This tenonr. To this tenour, to this efifect. 124. Tenner. A pen-case, a case for holding pens (Nares) ; used here, of course, as a symbol for what he has />enned. 125. Sk. remarks : " We have here a list of the characters in the Mor- ris-dance — namely, the Lord of May, the Lady of May (also called Queen of May, or Maid Marian), the Chambermaid, the Servingman, the Host, the Hostess, etc. ; to which should be added the Bavian or Tumbler, and the Clown or Jester, who was seldom absent from such festivities. By putting together the account in this part of the scene and the preceding part, we may make out the list of the twelve principal characters, six of each sex, with the persons who took the parts : " Ma/e. I. Lord of May ; 2. Servingman ; 3. Host ; 4. Clown ; 5. Ba- vian ; 6. Taborer. *■*■ Female. 7. Lady of May ; 8. Chambermaid; 9. Hostess; 10. il. 12. Dancers. "The parts may be thus distributed among the actors: *■'■ Male. I. 2. 3. 4. First, Second, Third, and Fourth Countrymen; 5. A fifth Countryman ; 6. A man named Timothy. '■^Female. 7. Friz ; 8. Gaoler's Daughter, taking the place of Cicely (for it is clearly the Second Countryman's partner who failed to appear) ; 9. Maudlin; 10. Luce; 11. Barbary ; 12. Nell. "In Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Testle, iv. 5, we have 'Enter Ralph, dressed as a May-lord ;' he describes himself as hav- ing a ' gilded staff, and crossed scarf.' " 127. Silent hanging. Tapestry, behind which to hide. Silent may be = " that does not rustle " (Sk.). Cf. K. John, p. 163, note on Within the arras. 128. Welcomes. Changed by most of the editors to " welcome," as In- forms below to "Inform." L. remarks : "With Mr. Skeat, I have left this passage as it stands in the old eds., objections to tht grammar seem- ing hypercritical, and to a student of Dr. Ahhoit''s Shakes. Gr. almost ab- surd." Their is also generally changed to " his ;" but the plural is im- plied in traveller. I'^i. Beast-eating. Mason conjectures " beef-eating." H. is probably right in making it =eating like a beast. The Fool and the Bavian are of course the same character. See on 125 above. 132. With long tail. H. prints " with long long tail" (a misprint?). 137. Intrate,filii, etc. The old eds. give this to ^^Tir.,''^ but Colman is clearly right in transferring it to Gerrold. 139. Ye with. The old eds. have " thee with ;" corrected by Seward. In 142 the quarto has " three" for thee. 156. Lets. Hindrances. Cf. T. of L. 330 : " these lets attend the time," etc. 157. Doucets. "The testes of a deer;" a word not used by S., but often by Fletcher and B. J. Cf. Nares. ACT III. SCENE VI. 183 Spalding refers to " the learned and high-fantaslical schoolmaster Ger- rold" as "a personage who has the pedantry of Shakespeare's Holo- fernes, without one solitary spark of his humour." Hickson says that the scene is " not only imitation, but the imitation of a young and inex- perienced writer." Scene VI. — 10. Out-dtire. Outlast, endure; printed as two words in the quarto. 22. Beneficial. Beneficent; as mC.o/E. i. i. 152, Hen. VIII. i. i. 56, etc. 24. Quit. Requite ; as often in S. See Rich. II. p. 208, note on 43. Cf. V. 4. 35 below. 30. Like meeting of two tides. Spalding notes Fletcher's "want of dis- tinctness in grasping images, and inability to see fully either their pict- uresque or their poetical relations;" in illustration of which he quotes this passage and 83 fol. below : " When I saw you charge first," etc. 59. Grand-guard. A piece of defensive armour, of which the best de- scription that we have seen is in Meyrick's Ajicient ArfJiozcr (quoted by D.) : " It has over the breast, for the purpose of justing, what was called the grand-garde, which is screwed on by three nuts, and protects the left side, the edge of the breast, and the left shoulder." 82. Virtue. Valour (the Latin vi7-tus). Cf. Cor. p, 195. 87. Strait. Tight; as in Hen. V. iii. 7. 57: "your strait strossers," etc. 106. For none but such, etc. Seward remarks : " Our scene lies rather in the land oi knight-errantry than of Athens ; our authors follow Chau- cer, and dress their heroes after the manners of his age, when trials by the sword were thought just, and the conquered always supposed guilty and held infamous." 112. Safety. The early eds. have "safely;" corrected by Seward. 131. Fears me. Frightens me. See M. of V. p. 137, or K. John, p. 147. 133. Have at thy life. " The usual exclamation of warning" (L.). 147. Thine own. The early eds. have " this owne " or " this own ;" corrected by D. For the accent oi edict, cf. 170 below. See also M. N. D. p. 129. 161. Soon. Easy, ready. 162. And no more mov'd. " And I am no more moved than thou wouldst be in giving the order" (Sk.). ^//^r,?= whereas. See Gr. 134. 177. Thy cousin'' s soul. Referring to Hercules. See on i. i. 66 above. 192. Kill. The old reading, changed by some to " kills." For many similar examples of the " confusion of proximity," see Gr. 412. 217. Right. Downright, true. Cf. A. V. L. p. 171, or Gr. 19. 228. Bow not. Do not try to bend or bring down. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iii. I. 73 : " necessity so bow'd the state," etc. 238. Fail. The old eds. have " fall," which L. retains. He quotes Dr. Ingleby, who says : " Cf. 274 below : ' Let it not fall again, sir.' These are remarkable instances of the use of this intransitive verb as a synonym oifail. . . . Fall, of course, is the opposite of sticceed. Now our word for this \sfail. Cf. Sir John Oldcastle : 'Alas ! poor rebels, there your aid i84 NOTES, must fall.' There is also one example in The London Prodigal, and two in Isaiah — xxxi. 3 and lix. 14, 15." 242. Name's opinion. The reputation of my name. The early eds. have "name; opinion." The correction was suggested by Theo., and is adopted by K., D., Sk., and H. L. reads "name, opinion !" and says : " Opi7iion is emphatic, and is used here (as again by Fletcher) in the sense of noio?-iety^ disrepute. Cf. Ihierry and Theodoret, ii. 2 : " my fair reputation, If I thrust into crowds, and seek occasions, Suffers opinion.' " D. points the passage thus : "Think how you maim your honour (For now I am set a-be^ing, sir, I am deaf To all but your compassion) ; how their lives Might breed the ruin of my name's opinion!" Sk. says : " This can only mean — Think how you maim your honour ; (for now that 1 begin to beg, I am deaf to all but your pity) ; think how their lives, etc. But this makes no sense, and can only be made into sense by altering lives into deaths ; and even then it is not clear why their deaths should damage her good name, at any rate in her own es- timation. I take the sentence to mean something very different — namely, Think how you maim your honour ! [After which there is a pause ; and then a new thought arises.] For now that I have begun to beg, sir, I am deaf to all but your compassion ; (I am deaf to the thought) how their lives may bring about the loss of my reputation. That this is clearly right, may be seen from a perusal of 220-226." It seems to us that this is the general idea of the passage, but that it is more simply and directly brought out by the pointing in the text (given, without com- ment, by H.), which makes Hozu their lives, etc., a contemptuous or indig- nant exclamation, referring to what Theseus has said in 220-226. 244. Proin. The early eds. have "proyne" or " proyn ;" changed by later editors to "prune" (of which it is an old form) until D. restored it -AS, proin. He has been followed by Sk., L., and H. L. cites examples of it from B. J., Milton {Comus, 378), Gascoigne, and Bacon {Essay 50). 248. That ever lov'd. D. and H. adopt Walker's conjecture of "lov'd them," which is in keeping with "the Fletcherian rhythm," but unnec- essary. 251. Woe worth me. Woe be to me. Sk. remarks: "The A. S. verb weordian, to become, cognate with the German werden, once in very com- mon use, now survives only in such phrases as ' woe worth thee,' or ' woe worth the day.' " 258. Cut a-pieces. Cf. Hen. VII I. v. 4. 80 : " torn a-pieces." Gr. 24, 140. 272. Make death a devil. " Though you should make death as formi- dable as a devil" (L.). Sk. considers the expression "obscure," and suggests that it means " I will turn death into a horrible monster ;" but L. is clearly right. 276. To your husband. For your husband. See Temp. p. 124, note on A paragon to their gueefi. ACT IV. SCENE I. 185 284. From that month. By a sentence pronounced by her. 295. Fyratnid. Apparently ^pillar in the same sentence. Chaucer mentions two stakes, one at each side of the lists (Sk.). Whether. Which of the two. Cf. iv. 2. 48 below; also Matt. xxi. 31, xxiii. 19. 299. And all his friends. Sk. remarks here: " Some readers have ex- pressed surprise at the apparently strange doom of Theseus, in decree- ing death not only to the principal, but to 'all his friends,' if worsted in the combat. Chaucer does not, it is true, go so far as this; but it was quite in accordance with the spirit of the age even in Fletcher's time. Seward's note on the subject is much to the purpose : 'As to the prob- ability of their procuring each three seconds upon such odd terms, it may shock us to suppose any such gallant idiots ; but even so low as our authors' age it was reckoned cowardice to refuse any man,. even a stranger, to be a second in almost any duel whatever, of which there is a most inimitable burlesque in [Beaumont and Fletcher's play of] The Little French Lazvyer. Mankind were mad after knight-errantry; and the reader must catch a little of the spirit himself, or he '11 lose a great part of the beauties of this play ; he must kindle with the flames of military glory, think life a small stake to hazard in such a combat, and death desirable to the conquered as a refuge from shame.' In Beau- mont and Fletcher's play of The Lover s Frogress, ii. 3, the seconds fight as well as the principals. Perhaps the most striking instance is afforded by the ferocious duel fought in Kensington Gardens, on the 15th of No- vember, 1712; in which not only the principals. Lord Mohun and the Duke of Hamilton, were both killed, but the seconds fought with fierce hatred, though interrupted before either of them was slain. See Cham- bers's Book of Days, ii. 583." 304. Miscarry. Perish. Cf T. N. p. 152. See also v. 3. loi below. Spalding says that this scene " is a spirited and excellent one; but its tone is Fletcher's, not Shakespeare's." Hickson considers it " of a much higher character than either of the preceding " scenes. ACT IV. Scene I. — 4. Business. Here a trisyllable. II. Compassion. A quadrisyllable. Gr. 479. 14. That I hope. So that I hope. Gr. 283. 16. Scape. "It is quite unnecessary to prefix an apostrophe, as Mr. Knight does [so H. and others] ; it is a common old spelling " (Sk.). Cf. Macb. p. 214, note on Scaped. In 20 below the quarto has " escapt." 35. Where did she sleep ? The early eds. have " When " for Where, which was suggested by D. 37. Mind her. Think of her, call her to mind. Cf. Hen. V. iv. chor. 53 : " Minding true things by what their mockeries be." 41. Innocent. Idiot. See on i. 3. 79 above. 45. Not right. Not sane, not in her right mind. L. says that "the 1 86 N07ES. expression is still heard in Ireland in this sense." It is also common enough in this country. 48. You have told. The early eds. omit have, which Seward supplied. 55. Attending. " Watching for, waiting for " (Sk.). 58. Smallness. Sk. quotes T. N. i. 4. 32 : " thy small pipe Is as the maiden's organ, shrill and sound." Cf. M. W. i. I. 49 : " speaks small like a woman." 60. His. Its. Gr. 228. 64. Glade. Sometimes =an open track in the wood, as here one cut through the reeds. 71. Bevy. Cf. Hen. VIII. i. 4. 4: " In all this noble bevy," etc. Wedg- wood quotes Fiorio : ^^ Beva, a drinking ; a bevy, as of pheasants." 75. Antic. "An antique dance, a quaint dance" (Sk.). Antick and antique are used interchangeably in the early eds. of S. Cf. M. N. D. p. 179. 80. Willow, xvillow, luillow. For this old song, see 0th. p. 203, note °" 39- 89. Of rushes. Alluding to the rush-rings used in mock-marriages. Cf. ^. W. p. 150, note on Tib''s rush for Tom''s fo7-efnger. 90. Posies. Short mottoes, often inscribed on rings, knives, etc. See M. of V. p. 164. 91. Lose. The old eds. have " loose " (as in 77 above) ; but, as Sk. and L. agree, it is only an old spelling for lose. 107. The Broom. A very popular old song. Weber quotes it from an old interlude thus : " Brome, brome on hill, The gentle brome on hill, hill : Brome, brome on Hive hill." etc. 108. Bonny Robin. Cf. Ham. iv. 5. 187 : " For bonny sweet Robin is all tny joy ;" and see our ed. p. 252. For the tailor making a wedding-gown^ cf. 2 Hen. IV. p. 177, note on A womaiCs tailor. lie. Rarely. Early; the reading of the old eds., changed by Weber and others to "rearly," which is only another spelling of the word (L.). Halliwell {Archaic Diet.) gives ra;v = early, as a Devonshire word. 111. Minstrels. A trisyllable. Gr. 477. Cf. /^zenciird=^ painted. For kind, cf, A. W. p. 141, note on By kind. 16. Price. Prize, reward. Cf. 31 below. 17. Question's title. "The title in dispute, the right of the contro- versy" (L. ). D. and H. read " questant's " ( cf. A. W. ii. i. 16) ; but here, as L. remarks, there being two questants, to crown the questanfs title (that is, the disputant's title) would be unmeaning. 18. Wink. Shut my eyes. Cf. Cymb. p. 182. 21. Envy. Malice. Cf. M.ofV. p. 151, note on Envious. 26. 7"hat. So that. See on v. i. 114 above. 196 NOTES. 28. Set off. Offset, cancel. For to with guilty, see W. T. p. 202. 42. An ettgine bent. An engine of war ready for use. Bend, which is proj^erly used only of a bow, is often applied to other warlike instruments. Cf. K. John, ii. I. 37 : '* Our cannon shall be bent," etc. See also 3 Hen. VI. V. I. 87, Rich. III. i. 2. 95, Lear, iv. 2. 74, etc. In the stage-direction at iii. 1.30 above we have '■'■ bends his fist.'''' 45. Aspect. Regularly accented on the last syllable in S. Cf. Gr. 490. 46. GrmPd. Deeply furrowed. 49. His object. Its object. Gr. 228. 54. On hitn. The old eds. have "on them ;" corrected by Seward. 59. 7he spoiling of his figure. See p. 20 above. 63. Wai'd. Posture of defence. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 471 : "Come from your ward," etc. Offence = '\Ao'^, or offensive movem.ent. 69. Success. Accented here on the first syllable. Cf. i. i. 209 above. 70. Prim' St. For the superlative, cf. Hen. VIII. ii. 4. 229 : " the primest creature." For the contracted form (of which we have already had sev- eral examples in this play), see Gr. 473. 72. Servant. Lover. Cf. i. i. 89 above. 75. In V else. Seward, Colman, and H. omit else. 80. Pyramid. See iii. 6. 295 above. 82. Redemption. Rescue (of Arcite). 83. Titters. The early eds. have "Tytlers," which L. explains as *' contenders about a title, questants." He adds that there were eight bold tillers, but only two bold titters. It seems to us more natural to call Palamon and Arcite here the titters than the tillers. If there were such a word as the latter, it ought to mean givers or possessors of titles rather than contenders about them. The change to Tylters was first made by Tonson, and all the eds. since have given titters. The original reading seems to have been overlooked until L. called attention to it. 86. Their single share, etc. The share of nobleness belonging to each puts any living woman at a disadvantage in the comparison, shows her worth to be inferior. Line 87 is wanting in the folio, and was first re- stored from the quarto by Colman. 95. Half-sights saw, etc. We still speak of "seeing with half an eye." 96. God's lid ! An oath commonly contracted into ''slid ! See M. N. D. p. 155. Emilia swears more like Queen Elizabeth than "like a com- fit-maker's wife," as Hotspur says. See i Hen. IV. p. 177, note on 249. 99. Go to law with. Cope with, defend themselves against. 10 1. Miscarry. See on iii. 6. 304 above. 103. Our fancies. Our affections, our love. See on iv. 2. 52 above. 119. Alcides. Hercules. Cf. M. of V. ii. i. 35, iii. 2. 55, T of S. i. 2. 260, etc. 120. A sow of lead. The word sow is used like //^ to denote a mass of smelted metal. See Wb. Sk. compares 2 Hen. IV. i. i. 118. 124. Philo7nels. Nightingales ; as in R. of L. 1079, 1128, M. N. D. ii. 2. 12, etc. 127. Out-breasted. Outsung. Cf. ^;'(?^j-/= musical voice, in Z! iV. ii. 3. 20. See our ed. p. 136. ACT V. SCENE IV. 197 130. Hardly. After hard fighting. Cf. T. G. of V. ii. i. 115; "Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off" (with difficulty), etc. 133. Piuch ''em. " Vex them. It was in the very spirit of chivalry that a warrior should not care to survive defeat. This doom of Palamou and his three knights would be revolting, if it were not that the specta- tors might be expected to know enough of Chaucer's story to make them suspect that the sentence would not really be executed. To which must be added the consideration, that the spectators of plays in the time of James I. could behold, almost unmoved, many things which we now shud- der even to read " (Sk.). 135. Arm your prize. That is, take her in your arms, embrace her. Cf. Cymb. iv. 2. 400 : " come, arm him." K. explains it rather tamely by " Offer your arm to the lady you have won ;" and Mason says, " Take her by the arm." Spalding says of this scene, that the details "make it clear that Shake- speare's hand was in it." He adds : " The greater part, it is true, is not of the highest excellence ; but the vacillations of Emilia's feelings are well and delicately given, some individual thoughts and words mark Shakespeare, there is little of his obscure brevity, much of his thought- fulness legitimately applied, and an instance or two of its abuse." Scene IV. — 5. To live still. L. is in doubt whether still modifies live^ or Have ; but it seems better to connect it with the former. 6. We prevent. Sk. reads " herein we prevent." %. Rheum. Rheumatism. Qi.M.forM.m.i.T^w " Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum," etc. Lag hours. Latter hours, or lingering hours ; or, perhaps, combining the two meanings. Sk. quotes i Hen. IV. v. i. 23 : " To entertain the lag-end of my life With quiet hours." Attend for grey approachei's = 2iW?dt aged comers towards the gods, or those who die in old age. ID. l/nwapper^d. " Unworn, not debilitated " (D.). In T.ofA.iv.T,. 38, we find wappen'd in the opposite sense (see our ed. p. 158) ; and it is a question whether the original word is wappen or wapper. As Sk. says, both are so rare that it is best to leave them unaltered. II. That. " That is, who ; referring to zve in 9. In the next line stick refers to the grey approachers '^ (Sk.). 13. Eor. Because ; as in i. 2. 54 above. For clear, see on i. 2. 74 above. 15. Too-too. See M. of V. p. 143. 20. Tottering Fortune. Signifying, as Fluellen says {Hen. V. iii. 6. 35), " that she is turning, and inconstant, and mutability, and variation ; and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and rolls." 23. Taste to you. Alluding to the ancient custom of having the king's food tasted before it was served, as a precaution against poison. See Rich. II, p. 220, note on Taste of it first. 35. Quit. Requite. Cf. iii. 6. 24 above. The old eds. have " quight ;" 198 NOTES. and L. thinks we should read "quite," which he takes to be a distinct word from quit. 47. Dearly. The old eds. have "early;" corrected by Seward. Cf. 129 below ; and for the intensive use of the word, see A. Y. L. p. 147. 50. Oiviiig. Owning, having. See on i. i. 88 above. 53. Note. Stigma. Cf. R. of L. 208 : "sham'd with the note," etc. 54. Allowance. Authority, confirmation. 55. Calkins. Calks (or corks, as the word is often spelled and pro- nounced), or the points in a horseshoe that prevent slipping. 56. Tell. Count ; as in iii. 5. 80 above. The calkins seemed to touch the stones lightly, like the fingers in counting. 60. For, as they say, etc. Probably alluding to the story of Pythagoras and the blacksmith's hammers. Cf. Longfellow, To a Child : "As great Pythagoras of yore, Standing beside the blacksmith's door, And hearing the hammers, as they smote The anvils with a different note, Stole from the varying tones that hung Vibrant on every iron tongue The secret of the sounding wire, And formed the seven-corded lyre." Chappell says that the story is an absurd one, because " the tone of a bell cannot be altered in pitch by changing the weight of its clapper." The story is doubtless mythical, but if one wanted to defend it he might re- ply that possibly the blacksmith and his men were hammering on different anvils. It will be noted that Longfellow has " anvils." 62. Cold as old Saturn. A reference to the astrological descriptions of the planet Saturn, which was called cold because the god for whom it was named was represented as bearing the " frosty signs " of extreme old age. Cf. Cymb. ii. 5. 12 : "A pudency so rosy the sweet view on 't Might well have warm'd old Saturn." Here theyfr^ malevolent shows that the planet is meant. Cf. Much Ado, p. 126, note on Bor7i nnder Satiir?i. 66. Toy. " A freak, a sudden whim. Cf. Philaster, v. 3 : * What if a toy take 'em i' the heels now, and they run all away ?' and North's Plu- tarch : ' When a mad mood or toy took him in the head ' " (Sk.). 69. Manage. Used, as often, in the technical sense of the management or training of a horse. See M. of V. p. 153. 72. Jadery. "Jade's tricks" {Much Ado, i. I. 145, A. W. iv. 5. 64, etc.). For Jade as applied to a vicious nag, cf. 81 below. For disseat, cf. Macb. v. 3. 21. 77. On end he stands. The quarto prints thus : " He kept him tweene his legges, on his hind hoofes on end he stands That Arcites leggs being higher then his head," etc. This indicates either that the compositor could not make out the "copy," or that the first part of the line somehow dropped out after it was put in type. The sense, however, is complete, and it seems better to leave the ACT V, SCENE IV. 199 text as it is than to read " Quickly uprearing, so on end he stands," as H. does. Sk. thinks that " the half-line is rather effective." * 81. Poise. Weight ; as in Lear, ii. i. 122 : " Occasions, noble Gloster, of some poise ;" 0th. iii. 3. 82 : " full of poise and difficult weight," etc. 92. Told. Counted. Cf. 56 above. / was false. " Seward remarks : ' I believe the reader will not easily be convinced that Arcite had been false.' In fact, the dramatists have forgotten to insert any instances of his falseness. The epithet 'false Ar- cite ' is in the Knightes Tale, 287 ; but even Chaucer has not made it very clear that Arcite really was so ; unless, indeed, we refer to his poem en- titled Of queen Annelida and false Arcite'''' (Sk.). 98. Honour. That is, Arcite's obsequies. loi. Yonr thanks. The old eds. have " Our thanks ;" corrected by D. 104. Arrose. Sprinkle (Fr. arroser). The old eds. have " arowze ;" and Cotgrave spells the Fr. verb "arrouser." 108. Grace. Honour; as in 125 below. Ci. to do grace (i Hen. IV. ii. I. 79, y. C. iii. 2. 62), /// grace of{M. N. D. iv. I. 139, Ham. i. 2. 124), etc. 109. Bear this hence. This direction to remove the body was proba- bly inserted to suit the requirements of the old stage. See Ham. p. 242. 118. Fancy. Love. Cf. iv. 2. 52 above. 1^3. Lovers. Friends. See on v. i. 34 above. 126. /;/ whose end. At the end of which /?/;/, 183. whereto, 157. whether, 185, 188. whipstock, 164. who (omitted), 163, 164. who (=which), 164. whoo-bub, 174. widows to our woes, 160. Willow, willow, willow, 186. wine and bread, 180. wink ( = shut the eyes), .195- winner's oak, 189. wise (= discreet), 174. woe worth, 184- wood (^mad), 187. THE WALLS OF ATHENS RESTORED- SHAKESPEARE. WITH NOTES BY WM. J. ROLFE, A.M. The Merchant of Venice. The Tempest. Julius Caesar. Hamlet. As You Like It. Henry the Fifth. Macbeth. Henry the Eighth. A Midsummer-Night's Dream. Richard the Second. llichard the Third. Much Ado Ahout Nothing. Antony and Cleopatra. Eomeo and Juliet. OtheUo. Twelfth Night. The Winter's Tale. King John. Henry IV. Part I. Henry IV. Part II. King Lear. The Taming of the Shrew. All 's Well That Ends Well. Coriolanus. Comedy of Errors. Cymbeline. Merry Wives of Windsor. Measure for Measure. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Lore's Labour 's Lost. Timon of Athens. Henry VI. Part I. Henry VI. Part II. Henry VI. Part III. Troilus and Cressida. Pericles, Prince of Tyre. The Two Noble Kinsmen. Poems. Sonnets. Titus Andronicus. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, 56 cts. per Vol. ; Paper, 40 cts. per Yol. In the preparation of this edition of the EngHsh Classics it has been the aim to adapt them for school and home reading, in essentially the same way as Greek and Latin Classics are edited for educational pur- poses. The chief requisites are a pure text (expurgated, if necessary), and the notes needed for its thorough explanation and illustration. Each of Shakespeare's plays is complete in one volume, and is pre- ceded by an Introduction containing the " History of the Play," the " Sources of the Plot," and *' Critical Comments on the Play." From Horace Howard Furness, Ph.D., LL.D., Editor of the ^^JVeiv Vario- rum Shakespeare.'''' No one can examine these volumes and fail to be impressed with the conscientious accuracy and scholarly completeness with which they ai^e edited. The educational purposes for which the notes are written Mr. Rolfe never loses sight of, but like "a well-experienced archer hits the mark his eve doth level at." Rolfe's Shakespeare. Fi'om F. J. FURNIVALL, Director of the New Shakspere Society, London. The merit I see in Mr. Rolfe's school editions of Shakspere's Plays over those most widely used in England is that Mr. Rolfe edits the plays as works of a poet, and not only as productions in Tudor English. Some editors think that all they have to do with a play is to state its source and explain its hard words and allusions j they treat it as they would a charter or a catalogue of household furniture, and then rest satisfied. But Mr. Rolfe, while clearing up all verbal difficulties as carefully as any Dryasdust, always adds the choicest extracts he can find, on the spirit and special "note" of each play, and on the leading characteristics of its chief personages. He does not leave the student without help in getting at Shakspere's chief attributes, his characterization and poetic power. And every practical teacher knows that while every boy can look out hard words in a lexicon for himself, not one in a score can, unhelped, catch points of and realize character, and feel and express the distinctive individuality of each play as a poetic creation. From Prof. Edward Dowden, LL.D., of the' University of Dublin^ Author of ^^ Shakspere : His Mind and Art." I incline to think that no edition is likely to be so useful for school and home reading as yours. Your notes contain so much accurate instruc- tion, with so little that is superfluous ; you do not neglect the aesthetic study of the play ; and in externals, paper, type, binding, etc., you make a book " pleasant to the eyes " (as well as " to be desired to make one wise ") — no small matter, I think, with young readers and with old. From Edwin A. Abbott, M.A., Author of ^^ Shakespearian Grammar.'''' I have not seen any edition that compresses so much necessary infor- mation into so small a space, nor any that so completely avoids the com- mon faults of commentaries on Shakespeare — needless repetition, super- fluous explanation, and unscholar-like ignoring of difficulties. From Hiram Corson, M.A., Professor of Anglo-Saxoji and English Literature, Cornell University, Ithaca, A''. V. In the way of annotated editions of separate plays of Shakespeare, for educational purposes, I know of none quite up to Rolfe's. Rolfe^s Shakespeare. From Prof. F. J. Child, of Harvard University. I read your " Merchant of Venice" with my class, and found it in every respect an excellent edition. I do not agree with my friend White in the opinion that Shalcespeare requires but few notes — that is, if he is to be thoroughly understood. Doubtless he may be enjoyed, and many a hard place slid over. Your notes give all the help a young student requires, and yet the reader for pleasure will easily get at just what he wants. You have indeed been conscientiously concise. Under date of July 25, 1879, Prof. Child adds : Mr. Rolfe's editions of plays of Shakespeare are very valuable and convenient books, whether for a college class or for private study. I have used them with my students, and I welcome every addition that is made to the series. They show care, research, and good judgment, and are fully up to the time in scholarship. I fully agree with the opinion that experienced teachers have expressed of the excellence of these books. From Rev. A. P. Peabody, D.D., Professor in Harvard University. I regard your own woi'k as of the highest meiit, while you have turned the labors of others to the best possible account. I want to have the higher classes of our schools introduced to Shakespeare chief of all, and then to other standard English authors ; but this cannot be done to ad- vantage, unless under a teacher of equally rare gifts and abundant leisure, or through editions specially prepared for such use. I trust that you will have the requisite encouragement to proceed with a work so hap- pily begun. From the Examiner and Chronicle, IV. Y. We repeat what we have often said, that there is no edition of Shake- speare's which seems to us preferable to Mr. Rolfe's. As mere specimens of the printer's and binder's art they are unexcelled, and their other merits are equally high. Mr. Rolfe, having learned by the practical ex- perience of the class-room what aid the average student really needs in order to read Shakespeare intelligently, has put just that amount of aid into his notes, and no more. Having said what needs to be said, he stops there. It is a rare virtue in the editor of a classic, and we are propor- tionately grateful for it. Rolfe^s Shakespeare. From the N". V. Times. This work has been done so well that it could hardly have been done better. It shows throughout knowledge, taste, discriminating judgment, and, what is rarer and of yet higher value, a sympathetic appreciation of the poet's moods and purposes. From the Pacific School Journal^ San Francisco. This edition of Shakespeare's plays bids fair to be the most valuable aid to the study of English literature yet published. For educational pur- poses it is beyond praise. Each of the plays is printed in large clear type and on excellent paper. Every difficulty of the text is clearly explained by copious notes. It is remarkable how many new beauties one may dis- cern in Shakespeare with the aid of the glossaries attached to these books. . . . Teachers can do no higher, better work than to inculcate a love for the best literature, and such books as these will best aid them in cultivating a pure and refined taste. From the Christian Union, N. Y. Mr. W. J. Rolfe's capital edition of Shakespeare — by far the best edi- tion for school and parlor use. We speak after some practical use of it in a village Shakespeare Club. The notes are brief but useful ; and the necessary expurgations are managed with discriminating skill. From the Acade??iy, Lojidon. Mr. Rolfe's excellent series of school-editions of the Plays of Shake- speare. . . . Mr. Rolfe's editions differ from some of the English ones in looking on the plays as something more than word-puzzles. They give the student helps and hints on the characters and meanings of the plays, while the word-notes are also full and posted up to the latest date. . . . Mr. Rolfe also adds to each of his books a most useful " Index of Words and Phrases explained." 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