The Two Noble Kinsmen

do. Horns winded within. Gerrold

Persuasively and cunningly; away, boys!
I hear the horns: give me some meditation,
And mark your cue. Exeunt all except Gerrold. Pallas inspire me!

Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia, Arcite, and Train. 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’ll stay it.

Gerrold Thou doughty duke, all hail! All hail, sweet ladies! 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 poedagogus, that let fall
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-willer,
And, with thy twinkling eyes, look right and straight
Upon this mighty morr⁠—of mickle weight⁠—
Is⁠—now comes in, which being glu’d together
Makes morris, and the cause that we came hether,
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 tenner;
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:
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. Re-enter the school, the Bavian, five Wenches, and the Taborer, with the Gaoler’s Daughter, and others. They dance a morris.

Ladies, if we have been merry,
And have pleas’d ye with a derry,
And a derry, and a down,
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’ll make thee laugh, and all this rout.

Theseus Take twenty, domine.⁠—How does my sweetheart? Hippolyta Never so pleas’d, sir. Emilia

’Twas an excellent dance; and for a preface,
I never heard a better.

Theseus

Schoolmaster, I thank you.⁠—
One see ’em all rewarded.

Pirithous

And here’s something Gives money.
To paint your pole withal.

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 dowsets! Exeunt Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta, Emilia, Arcite, and Train. Horns winded as they go out.
Come, we’re all made. Dii Deoeque omnes!
Ye have danc’d rarely, wenches. Exeunt.

Scene VI

The same part of the forest as scene III.

	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-fall’n with my wants: I thank thee, Arcite, Thou’rt yet a fair foe; and I feel myself With this refreshing, able once again To outdure danger. To delay it longer 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; ’tis justice: So, love and fortune for me!
	Enter Arcite, with armours and swords.
	O, good morrow.
Arcite	Good morrow, noble kinsman.
Palamon	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 A beneficial foe, that my embraces Might thank ye, not my blows.
Arcite	I shall think either, Well done, a noble recompense.
Palamon	Then I shall quit you.
Arcite	Defy me in these fair terms, and you show More than a mistress to me: no more anger, As you love anything that’s honourable: We were not bred to talk, man; when we’re arm’d, And both upon our guards, then let our fury, Like meeting of two tides, fly strongly from us; 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 school-boys⁠—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’ll 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, Though I had died; but, loving such a lady, And justifying my love, I must not fly from’t.
Palamon	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.
Arcite	Choose you, sir.
Palamon	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.
Palamon	That’s well said.
Arcite	You’ll find it.
Palamon	Then, as I am an honest man, and love With all the justice of affection, I’ll pay thee soundly. This I’ll take.
Arcite	That’s mine, then. I’ll arm you first. Proceeds to put on Palamon’s armour.
Palamon	Do. Pray thee, tell me, cousin, Where gott’st thou this good armour?
Arcite	’Tis the duke’s; And,