The Two Noble Kinsmen

class="eoc">etc. Brother You must even take it patiently. Gaoler ’Tis 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 ’Tis love! Brother

By no mean cross her; she is then distemper’d
Far worse than now she shows.

First Friend Yes, he’s a fine man. Daughter O, is he so? You have a sister? First Friend Yes. Daughter

But she shall never have him, tell her so,
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?

First Friend Yes. Daughter

There is at least two hundred now with child by him⁠—
There must be four; yet I keep close for all this,
Close as a cockle; and all these must be boys⁠—
He has the trick on’t; and at ten years old
They must be all gelt for musicians,
And sing the wars of Theseus.

Second Friend This is strange. Daughter As ever you heard: but say nothing. First Friend No. Daughter

They come from all parts of the dukedome to him;
I’ll warrant ye, he had not so few last night
As twenty to dispatch; he’ll tickle’t up
In two hours, if his hand be in.

Gaoler

She’s lost,
Past all cure.

Brother Heaven forbid, man! Daughter Come hither; you’re a wise man. First Friend Does she know him? Second Friend No; would she did! Daughter You’re master of a ship? Gaoler Yes. Daughter Where’s your compass? 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! ’tis up, the wind is fair:
Top the bowling; out with the main-sail:
Where’s your whistle, master?

Brother Let’s get her in. Gaoler Up to the top, boy! Brother Where’s the pilot? First Friend Here. Daughter What kenn’st thou? Second Friend A fair wood. Daughter

Bear for it, master:
Tack about! Sings.

When Cynthia with her borrow’d light, 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’ll 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 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 Set Jove a-fire with, and enforc’d the god Snatch up the goodly boy and set him by him, A shining constellation: what a brow, Of what a spacious majesty, he carries, Arch’d like the great-ey’d Juno’s, but far sweeter, 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;⁠— 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? I 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? 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 even 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;⁠— Alas, I know not!⁠—Ask me now, sweet sister;⁠— I may go look!⁠—What a mere child is fancy, That, having two fair gauds 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 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.
Emilia	I had rather both, So neither for my sake should fall untimely.
Theseus	Who saw ’em?
Pirithous	I a while.
Gentleman	And I.
	Enter Messenger.
Theseus	From whence come you, sir?
Messenger	From the knights.
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 the’ve brought⁠—if we judge by th’ 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; 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’