THE BRITISH DRAMA. THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN, BY SHAKESPEARE AND FLETCHER. PROLOGUE. [Flourish. NEW plays and maidenheads are near akin; And the first sound this child hear be a hiss, "From me the witless chaff of such a writer, "Than Robin Hood!" This is the fear we bring; Content to you!-If this play do not keep ROSES, their sharp spines being gone, Primrose, first-born child of Ver, All dear Nature's children sweet, Not an angel of the air, Bird melodious, or bird fair, Be absent hence! The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor May on our bridehouse perch or sing, Enter three Queens, in black, with veils stained, with imperial crowns. The first Queen falls down at the feet of THESEUS; the second falls down at the foot of HIPPOLITA; 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 your womb may thrive with fair ones, Hear and respect me! 3 Queen. Now for the love of him whom Jove hath marked The honour of your bed, and for the sake For us, and our distresses! This good deed Thes. Sad lady, rise. Hipp. Stand up. Emi. No knees to me! What woman I May sted, that is distressed, does bind me to her. Thes. What's your request? Deliver you, for all. 1 Queen. We are three Queens, whose sovereigns fell before The wrath of cruel Creon; who endured 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. Oh, 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! And, of thy boundless goodness, take some note, That for our crowned heads we have no roof Save this, which is the lion's and the bear's, And vault to every thing! Thes. Pray you, kneel not. I was transported with your speech, and suffer'd Your knees to wrong themselves. I've heard the fortunes Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting 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: Oh! grief and time, Fearful consumers, you will all devour! 1 Queen. Oh, I hope some god, Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood, Whereto he'll infuse power, and press you forth Our undertaker! Thes. Oh, no knees, none, widow! Unto the helmeted Bellona use them, And pray for me, your soldier.-Troubled I am. [Turns away. 2 Queen. Honoured Hippolita, Most dreaded Amazonian, that has slain The scithe-tusk'd boar; that, with thy arm as strong As it is white, wast near to make the male Thy force, and thy affection; soldieress, Than e'er he had on thee; who owest his strength, But touch the ground for us no longer time Than a dove's motion, when the head's pluck'd off! Tell him, if he i'the blood-sized field lay swoln, Shewing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon, What you would do! Hip. Poor lady, say no more! I had as lief trace this good action with you 3 Queen. Oh, my petition was [Kneels to EMILIA. Set down in ice, which, by hot grief uncandied, Melts into drops; so sorrow, wanting form, Is pressed with deeper matter. Emi. Pray stand up; Your grief is written in your cheek. 3 Queen. Oh, woe! You cannot read it there; here through my tears, Emi. Pray you, say nothing; pray you! To instruct me 'gainst a capital grief indeed; (Such heart-pierced demonstration!) but, alas, Being a natural sister of our sex, Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me, Thes. Forward to the temple: leave not out a jot O' the sacred ceremony. 1 Queen. Oh, this celebration Will longer last, and be more costly than quickly Is not done rashly; your first thought is more Than others' labour'd meditance; your premeditating More than their actions; but, (oh Jove!) your actions, Soon as they move, as osprays 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: Those that with cords, knives, drams, precipitance, Weary of this world's light, have to themselves Been death's most horrid agents, human grace Affords them dust and shadow. 1 Queen. But our lords Lie blistering 'fore the visitating sun, And were good kings when living. Thes. It is true; And I will give you comfort, To give your dead lords graves: The which to do must make some work with Creon. 1 Queen. And that work now presents itself to the doing: Now 'twill take form; the heats are gone to- With that celerity and nature, which Thes. Artesius, that best knowest The primest for this proceeding, and the number 1 Queen. Dowagers, take hands! 2 Queen. We come unseasonably; but when Cull forth, as unpang'd Judgment can, fit'st time For best solicitation? Thes. Why, good ladies, This is a service, whereto I am going, 1 Queen. The more proclaiming To make Mars spurn his drum? Oh, if thou couch Hip. Though much unlike You should be so transported, as much sorry Your shield afore your heart, about that neck To do these poor queens service. All Queens. Oh, help now! Our cause cries for your knee. My sister her petition, in that force, She makes it in, from henceforth I'll not dare Thes. Pray stand up; I am entreating of myself to do That which you kneel to have me. Perithous, I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip; [Exeunt towards the Temple. I'll follow you at heels: the feast's solemnity Thes. Cousin, I charge you Budge not from Athens; we shall be returning Ere you can end this feast, of which I pray you Make no abatement. Once more, farewell all! 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, Groan under such a mastery. Thes. As we are men, Thus should we do; being sensually subdued, We lose our humane title. Good cheer, ladies! [Flourish. Now turn we towards your comforts. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter PALAMON and ARCITE. Arc. Dear Palamon, dearer in love than blood, And here to keep in abstinence we shame I' the head o' the current, were almost to sink, Our gain but life, and weakness. Pal. Your advice Is cried up with example: what strange ruins, Since first we went to school, may we perceive Walking in Thebes! Scars, and bare weeds, The gain o' the martialist, who did propound To his bold ends, honour, and golden ingots, |