22 BAVIAN a baboon, an animal thought to be a cross between a dog and an ape; here, an actor impersonating one. Cotgrave’s French–English dictionary defines Babion, the alternative form, as both baboon and ‘crafty knave’. They seem to have been something of a craze in this period: the name is a synonym for fools in The Gull’s Horn-book (1608) and The Roaring Girl (1611); Lording Barry’s Ram Alley (1611) refers to a woman trying to imitate their contortions; and the leading comic of the Red Bull, Thomas Greene, specialized in dancing in a baboon costume (see Baskervill, 117 (RP)).

  23 FIVE COUNTRYWOMEN Their names are given in 3.5.26–8. A sixth, Cicely, is named at 3.5.45 but fails to appear. These would have been boys, like all the antimasquers.

  27 THREE QUEENS Perhaps played by men rather than boys, given the unusually large number of boy players required in 1.1. The First Queen, in KT, is described only as ‘the oldest lady of them all’ (912); in the classical sources she is called Evadne, a name which Beaumont and Fletcher gave to the heroine of The Maid’s Tragedy (1610–11).

  28 ARCITE probably derived, as Skeat suggests, from the Greek Archytes. He is Arcita in Boccaccio, with three syllables and the ‘c’ pronounced like ‘ch’ in ‘church’. In KT he is usually Arcite (two syllables, stressed on the second, rhyming with ‘quite’, ‘lite’ and ‘smyte’). The verse sometimes requires three syllables (‘“Alas,” quod he, “Arcita, cosyn mine”’ (1281)) and a shift of stress, as in ‘The pryere stint of Arcita the stronge’ (2421). In the play, both authors stress the first syllable. The occasional Chaucerian spelling Arsett and the variant spellings in Henslowe’s references to the 1595 Palamon and Arcite (arset, harset, arsett) (Henslowe, 24–5) indicate that the ‘c’ in his name was soft, but in some modern productions it is pronounced like ‘k’. He has 514 lines, the second-largest role in the play.

  29 PALAMON anglicized from the Italian Palemone and stressed on the first syllable. Palaemon (stressed on the second syllable) is a very common name in classical literature (occurring several times in Statius) and in pastoral literature in the vernacular: Guarini’s Pastor Fido, Spenser’s Shepherd’s Calendar, Brooke’s Melanthe, Daniel’s Queen’s Arcadia. With 589 lines, he has the largest part in the play, well behind some contemporary dramatic heroes (Coriolanus has 886 lines, Leontes 682) but more than Posthumus and Iachimo in Cym (441 and 432 respectively).

  30 VALERIUS a common name in plays with a classical setting, e.g. Thomas Heywood’s Rape of Lucrece (and cf. Valeria in Cor); also used for one of the outlaws in TGV (5.3.8)

  31–2 KNIGHTS In the Teseida and KT the tournament that decides the lovers’ fate involves 100 knights on each side. None of the knights in TNK is seen fighting. Only Palamon’s knights speak, and they have very few lines. Their roles seem largely decorative and may have been taken by dancers. See Appendix 4.

  33 Speaker of the EPILOGUE The speech seems to have been written for a popular boy actor, who is invited to emphasize his youth and the tension between stage persona and ‘real’ self. The most likely candidate is the actor who played the Jailer’s Daughter, especially as he is not on stage in the final scene. But the speaker’s (feigned) timidity, his insistence that he ‘cannot say’ what he should, and his asking the audience to admit having been in love with ‘a young handsome wench’ might also be an effective way of completing Emilia’s role.

  THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN

  [PROLOGUE]

  Flourish. [Enter Speaker of the Prologue.]

  New plays and maidenheads are near akin:

  Much followed 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

  5 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 am sure

  10 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 admired, the story gives;

  There, constant to eternity, it lives.

  15 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

  And make him cry from under ground, ‘Oh, fan

  From me the witless chaff of such a writer

  20 That blasts my bays and my famed works makes lighter

  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

  25 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’ travel. To his bones sweet sleep;

  30 Content to you. If this play do not keep

  A little dull time from us, we perceive

  Our losses fall so thick, we must needs leave.

  Flourish. [Exit.]

  [1.1] [Music.] Enter Hymen with a torch burning; a Boy, in a white robe, before, singing and strewing flowers; after Hymen, a Nymph encompassed in her tresses, bearing a wheaten garland. Then THESEUS between two other nymphs with wheaten chaplets on their heads. Then HIPPOLYTA the bride, led by PIRITHOUS and another holding a garland over her head (her tresses likewise hanging). After her, EMILIA, holding up her train; [Artesius; attendants; musicians].

  BOY [Sings.]

  Roses, their sharp spines being gone,

  Not royal in their smells alone

  But in their hue;

  Maiden pinks of odour faint,

  5 Daisies smell-less yet most quaint,

  And sweet thyme true;

  Primrose, first-born child of Ver,

  Merry springtime’s harbinger,

  With harebells dim,

  10 Oxlips in their cradles growing,

  Marigolds on deathbeds blowing,

  Lark’s-heels trim: Strews flowers.

  All dear Nature’s children sweet

  Lie ’fore bride and bridegroom’s feet,

  15 Blessing their sense.

  Not an angel of the air,

  Bird melodious, or bird fair,

  Is absent hence.

  The crow, the sland’rous cuckoo, nor

  20 The boding raven, nor chough hoar,

  Nor chatt’ring ’pie,

  May on our bride-house perch or sing,

  Or with them any discord bring,

  But from it fly.

  Enter three Queens in black, with veils stained, with imperial crowns. The First Queen falls down at the foot of THESEUS; the Second falls down at the foot of HIPPOLYTA; the Third before EMILIA.

  1 QUEEN [to Theseus]

  25 For pity’s sake and true gentility’s,

  Hear and respect me.

  2 QUEEN [to Hippolyta] For your mother’s sake

  And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair ones,

  Hear and respect me.

  3 QUEEN [to Emilia]

  Now, for the love of him whom Jove hath marked

  30 The honour of your bed and for the sake

  Of clear virginity, be advocate

  For us and our distresses. This good deed

  Shall raze you out o’th’ book of trespasses

  All you are set down there.

  THESEUS

  Sad lady, rise.

  HIPPOLYTA Stand up.

  35 EMILIA No knees to me!

  What woman I may stead that is distressed

  Does bind me to her.

  THESEUS

  What’s your request? [to First Queen]

  Deliver you for all.

  1 QUEEN

  We are three queens whose sovereigns fell before

  40 The wrath of cruel Creon, who endure

  The beaks of ravens, talons of the kites

  And pecks of crows, in the foul fields of Thebes.

  He will not suffer us to burn their bones,

  To urn their ashes, nor to take th’offence

  45 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 feared sword

  That does good turns to th’ world; give us the bones

  50 Of our dead kings that we may chapel them;

  And of thy boundless goodness take some note

  That for our crowned heads we have no roof,

  Save this which is the lion’s and the bear’s

  And vault to every thing.

  THESEUS Pray you, kneel not:

  55 I was transported with your speech and suffered

  Your knees to wrong themselves. I have heard the fortunes

  Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting

  As wakes my vengeance and revenge for ’em.

  [to First Queen]

  King Capaneus was your lord. The day

  60 That he should marry you, at such a season

  As now it is with me, I met your groom.

  By Mars’s altar, you were that time fair!

  Not Juno’s mantle fairer than your tresses

  Nor in more bounty spread her. Your wheaten wreath

  65 Was then nor threshed nor blasted; Fortune at you

  Dimpled her cheek with smiles. Hercules our kinsman,

  Then weaker than your eyes, laid by his club;

  He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide

  And swore his sinews thawed. Oh, grief and time,

  70 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.

  THESEUS Oh, no knees, none, widow.

  75 Unto the helmeted Bellona use them,

  And pray for me, your soldier.

  Troubled I am. Turns away.

  2 QUEEN Honoured Hippolyta,

  Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slain

  The scythe-tusked boar; that with thy arm, as strong

  80 As it is white, wast near to make the male

  To thy sex captive, but that this thy lord,

  Born to uphold creation in that honour

  First nature styled it in, shrunk thee into

  The bound thou wast o’erflowing, at once subduing

  85 Thy force and thy affection; soldieress,

  That equally canst poise sternness with pity,

  Whom now I know hast much more power on him

  Than ever he had on thee, who ow’st his strength

  And his love too, who is a servant for

  90 The tenor of thy speech; dear glass of ladies:

  Bid him that we, whom flaming war doth scorch,

  Under the shadow of his sword may cool us.

  Require him he advance it o’er our heads.

  Speak’t in a woman’s key; like such a woman

  95 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 plucked off.

  Tell him, if he i’th’ blood-sized field lay swollen,

  100 Showing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon,

  What you would do.

  HIPPOLYTA Poor lady, say no more.

  I had as lief trace this good action with you

  As that whereto I am going, and never yet

  Went I so willing way. My lord is taken

  105 Heart-deep with your distress. Let him consider:

  I’ll speak anon. [Second Queen rises.]

  3 QUEEN Oh, my petition was

  Set down in ice, which by hot grief uncandied

  Melts into drops; so sorrow, wanting form,

  Is pressed with deeper matter.

  EMILIA Pray, stand up;

  Your grief is written in your cheek.

  110 3 QUEEN Oh, woe,

  You cannot read it there. [Rises.]

  There, through my tears,

  Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream,

  You may behold ’em. Lady, lady, alack,

  He that will all the treasure know o’th’ earth

  115 Must know the centre too; he that will fish

  For my least minnow, let him lead his line

  To catch one at my heart. Oh, pardon me;

  Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,

  Makes me a fool.

  EMILIA Pray you, say nothing, pray you:

  120 Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in’t,

  Knows neither wet nor dry. If that you were

  The ground-piece of some painter, I would buy you

  T’instruct me ’gainst a capital grief, indeed

  Such heart-pierced demonstration; but, alas,

  125 Being a natural sister of our sex,

  Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me

  That it shall make a counter-reflect ’gainst

  My brother’s heart and warm it to some pity,

  Though it were made of stone. Pray, have good comfort.

  THESEUS

  130 Forward to th’ temple! Leave not out a jot

  O’th’ sacred ceremony.

  1 QUEEN Oh, this celebration

  Will longer last and be more costly than

  Your suppliants’ war! Remember that your fame

  Knolls in the ear o’th’ world: what you do quickly

  135 Is not done rashly; your first thought is more

  Than others’ laboured meditance; your premeditating

  More than their actions; but, oh Jove, your actions,

  Soon as they move, as ospreys do the fish,

  Subdue before they touch. Think, dear Duke, think

  What beds our slain kings have!

  140 2 QUEEN What griefs our beds,

  That our dear lords have none!

  3 QUEEN None fit for th’ dead.

  Those that with cords, knives, drams’ precipitance,

  Weary of this world’s light, have to themselves

  Been death’s most horrid agents, human grace

  Affords them dust and shadow –

  145 1 QUEEN 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 1 QUEEN And that work

  Presents itself to th’ doing.

  Now ’twill take form; the heats are gone tomorrow.

  Then, bootless toil must recompense itself

  With its own sweat; now, he’s secure,

  155 Nor dreams we stand before your puissance

  Rinsing our holy begging in our eyes

  To make petition clear.

  2 QUEEN Now you may take him,

  Drunk with his victory –

  3 QUEEN And his army full

  Of bread and sloth.

  THESEUS [to Officer] Artesius, that best knowest

  160 How to draw out fit to this enterprise

  The prim’st for this proceeding and the number

  To carry such a business – forth and levy

  Our worthiest instruments, whilst we dispatch

  This grand act of our life, this daring deed

  Of fate in wedlock.

  1 QUEEN [to Second and Third Queens]

  165 Dowagers, take hands.

  Let us be widows to our woes; delay

  Commends us to a famishing hope.

  THE QUEENS Farewell!

  2 QUEEN

  We come unseasonably; but when could grief

  Cull forth, as unpanged judgement can, fitt’st time

  For best solicitation?

  170 THESEUS Why, good ladies,

  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.

  1 QUEEN The more proclaiming

  175 Our suit shall be neglected when her arms,

  Able to lock Jove from a synod, shall

  By warranting moonlight corslet thee. Oh, when

  Her twinning cherries shall their sweetness fall

  Upon thy taste-full lips, what wilt thou think

  180 Of rotten kings or blubbered queens? What care

  For what thou feel’st not, what thou feel’st being able

  To make Mars spurn his drum? Oh, if thou couch

  But one night with her, every hour in’t will

  Take hostage of thee for a hundred and

  185 Thou shalt remember nothing more than what

  That banquet bids thee to.

  HIPPOLYTA Though much unlike

  You should be so transported, as much sorry

  I should be such a suitor, yet I think,

  Did I not, by th’abstaining of my joy

  190 Which breeds a deeper longing, cure their surfeit

  That craves a present med’cine, I should pluck

  All ladies’ scandal on me. Therefore, sir, [Kneels.]

  As I shall here make trial of my prayers,

  Either presuming them to have some force,

  195 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.

  THE QUEENS [to Emilia] Oh, help now.

  Our cause cries for your knee.

  200 EMILIA [Kneels, to Theseus] If you grant not

  My sister her petition in that force,

  With that celerity and nature, which

  She makes it in, from henceforth I’ll not dare

  To ask you anything nor be so hardy

  Ever to take a husband.

  205 THESEUS Pray, stand up.

  I am entreating of my self to do

  That which you kneel to have me. [They rise.]