Introduction
Perhaps Shakespeare’s final play, The Two Noble Kinsmen is about as obscure as any of the Bard’s works. This could be because it is a collaborative work, written with John Fletcher, or perhaps because it is a waning work, far removed from the period of his great tragic successes. Shakespeare will retire to Stratford soon after writing Two Noble Kinsmen, never to return, and will be dead within three years at the age of 52. These are the final writings of any sort from the author of Hamlet and King Lear. The rest is silence. Considering the life expectancy in Elizabethan England was around 35 years, the Bard did alright and earned his brief retirement from the London theatre scene. The Globe burned down during the opening performance of Henry VIII in 1613, or perhaps Shakespeare might have hung around a bit longer and created three of four more plays. Then again, London was an increasingly wicked place during the reign of King James. The court was corrupt and the city was overcrowded and disease ridden. It may have simply been time to go home.
Two Noble Kinsman is a late Tragic-Comedy written by Shakespeare and John Fletcher. It is a story about the trials of friendship, a very familiar Shakespearean theme. Palamon and his cousin, Arcite, vow that their friendship will last forever. However, after they are captured in a war and brought back to Athens as prisoners, they encounter Princess Emilia, and each fall hopelessly in love with her immediately and their relationship becomes one of rivalry. Arcite is released and banished from Athens but returns disguised, to be a servant for Emilia. The jailer’s daughter falls in love with and releases Palamon, but then goes mad with desire for him. Outside of Athens, in the forest, the two kinsmen encounter each other and decide to fight a duel over Emilia, when Theseus, the Athenian ruler, discovers them and demands that their duel determine which of them will wed Emilia. The loser will be executed. Arcite wins the fight but is crushed by a horse he is riding while celebrating his victory. As he is dying he reconciles with Palamon and offers him Emilia. The play ends with Palamon wedding Emilia and the jailer’s daughter being restored to sanity.
While the characters lack the depth we associate with Shakespeare, the language is exquisite. We do not explore the psychology of the characters or the moral dilemma of their choices so much as the resolution of what seems irresolvable and the passions provoked by the dilemma the characters face. This is consistent with Fletcher’s reputation as a writer. He had become one of the masters of the Jacobean stage, with its emphasis on theatrical extravagance and tragic comedic romance. But the language is superb throughout the play, especially between the two cousins as they become rivals and must oppose one another while at the same time preserving and acknowledging their love as kinsmen. This play was rarely produced until the twentieth century, and only very recently included conclusively into the Shakespeare canon, which offers hope that we may encounter it more and more on the stage, where no doubt, it will excel.
Prologue
“New plays and maidenheads are near akin, much followed both; and a good play is like her that after holy tie and first night’s stir yet still is modesty and still retains more of the maid to site than husband’s pains. We pray our play may be so, for I am sure it has a noble breeder. Chaucer, of all admired, 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 shakes the bones of that good man. 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’ travel. To his bones sweet sleep. If this play do not keep a little dull time from us, we perceive our losses fall so thick we must needs leave.”
Summary and Analysis
The prologue addresses the audience and compares a new play to virginity and a new bride, suggesting that both are highly admirable and wishing to appear fresh and robust as things progress. This analogy may seem sexist to modern audiences, but Shakespeare’s crowds would not have batted an eye. Prologue furthermore states that this play has a noble breeder in Chaucer and the players hope to do justice to his work, as weak as they are compared to him. Though below his art, with their applause they will try to make their effort worthy of the two hours of the play. Two Noble Kinsmen is based on Chaucer’s The Knight’s Tale, a part of The Canterbury Tales.
Act I (5 scenes)
Scene i
Wedding procession to an Athenian temple
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous and Emilia.
A song is heard.
Then enter Three Queens. The first falls down at the foot of Theseus; the second at the foot of Hippolyta; 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 clear virginity, be advocate for us and our distresses. This good deed shall raze you out of the Book of Trespasses, where all of you are set down there.”
Theseus: “Sad lady, rise.”
Hippolyta: “Stand up.”
Emilia: “No knees to me. What woman I may help that is distressed does bind me to her.”
The Queen rises
Theseus: “What’s your request? Deliver you for all.”
1 Queen: (kneels) “We are three queens whose sovereigns fell before the wrath of cruel Creon, who endured the beaks of ravens, talons of kites, and pecks of crows in the foul fields of Thebes. He will not suffer us to burn their bones, to urn their ashes, but infects the winds with stench of our slain lords. O, pity, duke, thou purger of the earth. Give us the bones of our dead kings that we may chapel them.”
Theseus: “Pray you, kneel not; I was transported with your speech. 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, I met your groom. You were that time fair.”
1 Queen: “O, I hope some god has put his mercy in your manhood, whereto he’ll infuse power and press you forth our undertaker.”
Theseus: “O, no knees, none, widow; and pray for me, your soldier – troubled I am.”
2 Queen: (kneels) “Honoured Hippolyta, most dreaded Amazonian, that with thy arm was near to make the male to thy sex captive, but that this thy lord, at once subduing thy force and thy affection: whom now I know has much more power on him than ever he had on thee, bid him that we, whom flaming war does scorch, under the shadow of his sword may cool us; speak it in a woman’s key; weep ere you fail.”
Hippolyta: “Poor lady, say no more. My lord is taken heart-deep with your distress. Let him consider; I’ll speak anon.”
3 Queen: (kneels) “O, my petition was set down in ice, which by hot grief uncandied melts into drops.”
Emilia: “Pray, stand up; your grief is written in your cheek.”
3 Queen: “O, pardon me; extremity that sharpens sundry wits makes me a fool.”
Emilia: “Pray you say nothing. Being a natural sister of our sex, your sorrow beats so ardently upon me that it shall make a counter-reflect against 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.”
1 Queen: “Remember that your fame knolls in the ear of the world. 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.”
1 Queen: “But our lords lie blistering before the visiting 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.”
1 Queen: “And that work presents itself to the doing.”
2 Queen: “Now you may take him drunk with his victory.”
3 Queen: “And his army full of bread and sloth.”
Theseus: “Artesius, fit to this enterprise, and the number to carry such a business forth and levy our worthiest instruments while we dispatch this grand act of our life, this daring deed of fate in wedlock.”
1 Queen: “Widows, take hands; let us be widows to our woes.”
2 Queen: “We come unseasonably, but when could grief cull forth for best solicitation?”
Theseus: “Why, good ladies, this is a service, whereto I am going greater than any; more imports me than all the actions that I have foregone or futurely can cope.”
1 Queen: “The more proclaiming our suit shall be neglected. When her arms shall corset thee what will thou think of rotten kings or blubbered queens? What thou feels being able to make Mars spurn his drum? O, if thou couch but one night with her, every hour in it will take hostage of thee for a hundred, and thou shall remember nothing more than what that banquet bids thee too.”
Hippolyta: (kneels) “Sir, prorogue this business we are going about and hang your shield afore your heart, about that neck which I freely lend to do these poor queens service.”
All queens: (to Emilia) ” O, help now!”
Emilia: (kneels) “If you grant not my sister her petition I’ll not dare to ask you anything nor be so hardy ever to take a husband.”
Theseus: “Pray stand up. 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 celebrations, Queens, follow your soldier. (to Artesius) As before, meet with us the forces you can raise, for a business more bigger looked. (exit Artesius) Since that our theme is haste, I stamp this kiss upon thy current lip; sweet, keep it as my token. Farewell, my beauteous sister. Pirithous, keep the feast full.”
Pirithous: “Sir, the feast’s solemnity shall want till your return.”
Theseus: “We shall be returning ere you can end this feast. Once more, farewell all.”
1 Queen: “Thus does thou still make good the tongue of the world.”
2 Queen: “And earns a deity equal with Mars.”
3 Queen: “If not above him, for thou being but mortal make affections bend to godlike honours.”
Theseus: “As we are men, thus should we do; being sensually subdued, we lose our human title. Good cheer, ladies. Now we turn towards your comforts.”
Summary and Analysis
Theseus and Hippolyta are preparing to wed when three mourning queens arrive to tell their story of how cruel King Creon killed their husbands, all good kings, and left their bodies to rot in the blistering sun. The queens have come to ask of King Thesius that he take an army and procure a proper burial for their dead husbands. Theseus, Hippolyta and Emilia are all moved by the petitions of the Queens. At first Theseus wants to continue with the wedding before helping the Queens but he is convinced by Hippolyta to provide more immediate help. He gathers an army and departs for Crete, telling the gathering of wedding guests that he will return home victorious before the feast is concluded. The queens praise Theseus as being equal with the gods. Women were thought to be more tender hearted and merciful than men, so the Queen naturally appeal to Hippolyta and Emilia to influence Theseus. There is an understandable bond between women in an oppressed and sexist culture. These three queens and two women of the court successfully accomplish what individually they would not have been capable of achieving in that patriarchal society.
Act I
Scene ii
Thebes, near Creon’s palace
Enter Palamon and Arcite
Arcite: “Dear Palamon, dearer in love than blood and our prime cousin, yet unhardened in the crimes of nature, let us leave the city Thebes and the temptings in it before we further sully our gloss of youth.”
Palamon: “What strange ruins, since first we went to school, may we perceive walking in Thebes! Scars and bare weeds the gain of the martialist, who did propound to his bold ends honour, which though he won, he had not; and now flirted by peace, for whom he fought. I do bleed when such I meet, to get the soldier work.”
Arcite: “Meet you no ruin but the soldier of Thebes?”
Palamon: “Yes, I pity decays wherever I find them.”
Arcite: “This is virtue of no respect in Thebes; where every evil has a good colour, where ever seeming goods a certain evil; here were to be mere monsters.”
Palamon: “Tis in our power, unless we fear that apes can tutor us, to be masters of our manners.”
Arcite: “Our uncle Creon.”
Palamon: “He, a most unbounded tyrant, whose successes make villainy assured; he who fears not to do harm; good, dares not. Let the blood of mine that is sib to him be sucked from me with leeches!”
Arcite: “Clear-spirited cousin, let’s leave his court that we may nothing share of his loud infamy.”
Palamon: “Nothing truer. I think the echoes of his shames have deafened the ears of heavenly justice. Widows’ cries descend again into their throats and have not due audience of the gods.”
Enter Valerius
Valerius: “The king calls for you, yet be leaden-footed till his great rage be off him.”
Palamon: “But what’s the matter?”
Valerius: “Theseus, has sent deadly defiance to him and pronounces ruin to Thebes, who is at hand to seal the promise of his wrath.”
Arcite: “Let him approach. He brings not a jot of terror to us.”
Palamon: “Our services stand now for Thebes, not Creon; therefore we must with him stand to the mercy of our fate.”
Arcite: “So we must.”
Palamon: “Let’s to the king.”
Summary and Analysis
Summary and Analysis
The two cousins bemoan the tragic state of their home of Thebes, ruled as it is by their evil uncle Creon. It is a corrupt state full of misery and suffering and the two gentlemen fear that they too will become compromised and corrupted if they remain there. When they learn that Theseus is about to attack Thebes, they are initially torn over what is the more honourable response and determine that they must defend their family and friends and remain loyal to their uncle, despite his evil nature. Family is family and Thebes is their home, regardless of the fact that Theseus is righteous and their uncle is not. They put themselves in the hands of the gods and reluctantly accept their fate.
Act I
Scene iii
Near the gates of Athens
Enter Pirithous, Hippolyta and Emilia
Hippolyta: “Sir, farewell. Repeat my wishes to our great lord; I wish him excess and overflow of power; speed to him.”
Pirithous: “My precious maid, those best affections that the heavens infuse in their best-tempered pieces keep enthroned in your dear heart.”
Emilia: “Thanks, sir. Remember me to our all-royal brother, for whose speed I’ll solicit. Our hearts are in his army, in his tent.”
Hippolyta: “In his bosom. We have been soldiers, and we cannot weep when our friends don their helmets, or put to sea, or tell of babes broached on the lance, or women who have sod their infants in the brine they wept at killing them, and after ate them.”
Pirithous: “Peace be to you as I pursue this war.”
Exit Pirithous
Emilia: “How his longing follows his friend! Since his depart, his sports passed slightly his careless execution, where nor gain made him regard or loss consider, but playing one business in his hand, another directing in his head, his mind nurse equal to these so differing twins. Have you observed him since our great lord departed?”
Hippolyta: “With much labour. They two have cabined in many as dangerous peril and want contending; they have skipped torrents whose roaring tyranny and power in the least of these was dreadful; and they have sought out together where death’s self was lodged, yet faith has brought them off. Their knot of love, tied, weaved, entangled, may be outworn, never undone.”
Emilia: “Doubtless there is a best, and reason has no manners to say it is not you. I was acquainted once with a playfellow. You were at wars when she the grave enriched, when our count was each eleven.”
Hippolyta: “Twas Flavina.”
Emilia: “Yes. You talk of Pirithous’ and Theseus’ love; theirs is more maturely seasoned, more buckled with strong judgment, and their needs the one of the other may be said to water their entangled roots of love; but I and she I sigh and spoke of were things innocent, loved for we did, and like the elements that know not what nor why yet do effect rare issues by their operance, our souls did so to one another. What she liked was then of me approved, what not, condemned – no more arraignment. Had my ear stolen some new air or at adventure hummed 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 has this end, that the true love between a maid and maid may be more than in sex distinct.”
Hippolyta: “And this is but to say that you shall never, like the maid Flavina, love any called man.”
Emilia: “I am sure I shall not.”
Hippolyta: “Now alack, weak sister, I must no more believe thee in this point – though in it I know thou does believe thyself – than I will trust a sickly appetite that loathes even as it longs. But sure, my sister, if I were ripe for your persuasion, you have said enough to shake me from the arm of the all-noble Theseus.”
Emilia: “I am not against your faith, yet I continue mine.”
Summary and Analysis
As Pirithous prepares to leave for battle with Theseus, Hippolyta and Emilia send their best wishes and pray to the gods for their support. These gods play a most significant role throughout the play. The two women note that Pirithous and Theseus have fought side by side for so long that they are like two bodies with one soul. They are a second example of the power and intimacy of renaissance friendship. Emilia then offers a third testament by recalling her dear childhood friend, Flavina, who died at the age of eleven. They were likewise close and she believes that true love between two women is stronger than the sexual bond between a man and a woman and she suggests she will never love a man. Hippolyta was once an Amazon warrior, but eventually compromised and married Theseus. Hippolyta believes Emilia will outgrow her preference for women but Emilia insists she will never marry.
Act I
Scene iv
Somewhere between the battlefield and Athens
Enter victorious Theseus and the Three Queens
1 Queen: “To thee no star be dark.”
2 Queen: “Both heaven and earth friend thee forever.”
3 Queen: “All the good that may be wished upon thy head, I cry amen to.”
Theseus: “Go and find out the bones of your dead lords and honour them. So adieu, and heaven’s good eyes look on you.”
Exit queens
Enter Herald before Palamon and Arcite, carried in on hearses.
Theseus: “What are those?”
Heald: “Men of great quality. Some of Thebes have told us they are nephews to the King.”
Theseus: “By the helm of mars, I saw them in the war, liked to a pair of lions smeared with prey. I fixed my note constantly on them, for they were a mark worth a god’s view.”
Herald: “They are called Arcite and Palamon.”
Theseus: “They are not dead?”
Herald: “Nor in a state of life. Yet they breathe and have the name of men.”
Theseus: “Then like men, use them. All our surgeons convent on their behalf; our richest balms waste. Their lives concern us much more than Thebes is worth. Minister what man to man may do. For our love and great Apollo’s mercy, all our best their best skill tender. We will post to Athens before our army.”
Summary and Analysis
Theseus returns home victorious and assures the three queens that they may proceed with dignified funeral rites for their fallen husbands. Attendants enter with Arcite’s and Palamon’s unconscious bodies. Theseus recognizes them and acknowledges their heroism on the battlefield. He insists they be treated with dignity and nursed back to good health as much as possible. Theseus is portrayed as honourable in this scene, caring for and acting on behalf of both the widowed queens and these two noble prisoners of war.”
Act I
Scene v
Somewhere between the battlefield and Athens
Enter the Queens with hearses
The Queens (singing): “Urns and odours bring away; vapours, sighs darken the day; Our dole more deadly looks than dying. Balms and heavy cheers, sacred vials filled with tears.”
3 Queen: “This funeral path brings to your household’s grave. Peace sleep with him.”
2 Queen: “And this to yours.”
1 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 marketplace where each one meets.”
Summary and Analysis
During the funeral procession the Queens acknowledge the unavoidable reality of grieving and death. We may all follow very different paths during life but we meet the same fate in the end.
Act II (6 scenes)
Scene i
A garden near the prison
Enter jailer and a wooer
Jailer: “I may depart with little while I live. 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. Marry, what I have – be it what it will – I will assure upon my daughter at the end of my death.”
Wooer: “Sir, here she comes.”
Jailer: “Look tenderly to the two prisoners. I can tell you they are princes.”
Daughter: “Tis pity they are in prison, and t’were pity thy should be out. The prison itself is proud of them, and they have all the world in their chamber.”
Jailer: “They are famed to be a pair of absolute men. I heard them reported in the battle to be the only doers.”
Daughter: “Most likely, for they are noble sufferers, making misery their mirth and affliction a toy to jest at. 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 restraint and disasters.”
Jailer: “The Duke himself came privately in the night. What the reason is, I know not.”
Enter Palamon and Arcite
Daughter: “It is a holiday to look on them. Lord, the difference of men!”
Summary and Analysis
The jailer demonstrates his goodness and humility, acknowledging that while he does not have much he will give whatever he can to his daughter. Both the jailer and the daughter agree that Palamon and Arcite are noble and worthy gentlemen to suffer their plight as prisoners with such grace and fortitude. ‘They are absolute men.’ In a foreshadowing of what is to come the jailer’s daughter admits that she enjoys looking at the two prisoners. ’Lord, the difference of men!’
Act II
Scene ii
The prison
Palamon and Arcite imprisoned
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 forever, cousin.”
Arcite: “I believe it.”
Palamon: “O cousin, where is Thebes now? Where is our noble country? Where are our friends and our kindreds? Never more must we behold those comforts? Oh, never 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, like age, must run to rust. These hands shall never blast whole armies more.”
Arcite: “No, Palamon, those hopes are prisoners with us. Here the graces of our youth must wither; here age must find us, which is heaviest, unmarried. The sweet embraces of a loving wife shall never clasp our necks; no issue know us; no figures of ourselves shall we ever see to gladden our age. The fair eyes maids shall weep our banishments and curse ever-blinded fortune till she for shame sees what a wrong she has done to youth and nature. This is all our world, and we shall know nothing here but one another.”
Palamon: “Tis too true, Arcite. The food and nourishment of noble minds in us two here shall perish; we shall die lastly, 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.”
Palamon: “Certainly tis a main goodness, cousin, that our fortunes were twined together. Tis most true, two souls put in two noble bodies, let ’em suffer the gaul of hazard, so they grow together and will never sink.”
Arcite: “Shall we make worthy uses of this place that all men hate so much?
Palamon: “How, gentle cousin?”
Arcite: “Let’s think this prison holy sanctuary to keep us from corruption of worse men. What worthy blessing can be, but our imaginations may make it ours? And here being thus together we are one another’s wife; we are father, friends, acquaintances; we are, in one another, families. I am your heir and you are mine; this place is our inheritance. Here with a little patience we shall live long and loving. Were we at liberty, a wife might part us lawfully; quarrels consume us; envy of ill men crave our acquaintance. I might sicken, cousin, where you should never know it and so perish without your noble hand to close my eyes. A thousand chances, were we from hence, would sever us.”
Palamon: “I thank you, cousin Arcite – almost wanton with my captivity. What a misery it is to live abroad and everywhere! Tis like a beast, methinks, and all those pleasures that woo the wills of men to vanity I see through now and am sufficient to tell the world ’tis 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. Shall I say more?”
Arcite: “I would hear you still.”
Palamon: “Ye shall. Is there record of any two who loved better than we, Arcite?”
Arcite: “Sure, there cannot be.”
Palamon: “I do not think it possible our friendship should ever leave us.”
Arcite: “Till our deaths it cannot.”
Enter Emilia and her woman. Palamon sees her.
Arcite: “And after death our spirits shall be led to those who loved eternally – Speak on, sir.”
Emilia: “This garden has a world of pleasure in it. What flower is this?”
Woman: “Tis called narcissus, madam.”
Emilia: “That was a fair boy, certain, but a fool to love himself. Were there not maids enough?”
Arcite: “Pray, forward.”
Palamon: “Yes.”
Emilia: “Or were they all hard-hearted? Men are mad things.”
Arcite: “Will you go forward, cousin? Cousin? Cousin, how do you do, sir? Why, Palamon!”
Palamon: “Never till now was I in prison, Arcite.”
Arcite: “Why, what’s the matter, man?”
Palamon: “Behold and wonder! By seven, she is a goddess.”
Arcite: “Ha!”
Palamon: “Do reverence; she is a goddess, Arcite.”
Emilia: “Of all flowers methinks a rose is best.”
Woman: “Why, gentle madam?”
Emilia: “It is the very emblem of a maid.”
Arcite: “She is wondrous fair.”
Palamon: “She is all the beauty extant.”
Emilia: “The sun grows high; let’s walk in. Keep thee flowers; I am wondrous merry-hearted; I could laugh now.”
Palamon: “What think you of this beauty?”
Alcite: “Tis a rare one. Yes, a matchless beauty.”
Palamon: “Might not a man well lose himself and love her?”
Arcite: “I have. Now I feel my shackles.”
Palamon: “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. 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; 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?”
Palamon: “I who first saw her; I who took possession first with my eyes of all those beauties in her revealed to mankind. If thou loves her or entertains 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 thinks upon her.”
Arcite: “Yes, I love her, I must do so. I love her with my soul. If that will lose ye, farewell Palamon. I say again I love, and have as just a title to her beauty as any Palamon or any living who is a man’s son.”
Palamon: “Have I called thee friend?”
Arcite: “Yes, and have found me so. Let me deal coldly with you. Am I not part of your blood, part of your soul? You have told me that I was Palamon and you were Arcite.”
Palamon: “Yes.”
Arcite: “Am I not 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?”
Palamon: “No, but unjust if thou pursue that sight. If thou pursue her, be as that cursed man who hates his country, a branded villain.”
Arcite: “You are mad.”
Palamon: “I must be, till thou are 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, and all this justly.”
Palamon: “O that now thy false self and thy friend had but this fortune, I would quickly teach thee what it were to filch affection from another. Thou are baser in it than a catpurse. Put but thy head out of this window more, and as I have a soul, I’ll nail thy life to it.”
Arcite: “Thou dares not, fool; thou cannot, thou art feeble. Put my head out? I’ll throw my body out and leap the garden when I see her next, and pitch between her arm to anger thee.”
Enter jailer
Palamon: ” No more; the keeper’s coming. I shall live to knock thy brains out with my shackles.”
Arcite: “Do.”
Jailer: “Lord Arcite, you must presently to the Duke; the cause I know not yet.”
Arcite: “I am ready, keeper.”
Exit Arcite and Jailer
Palamon: “Why is he sent for? It may be he shall marry her; he’s goodly and like enough the Duke has taken notice both of his blood and body. But his falsehood! Why should a friend be treacherous? If that gets him a wife so noble and so fair, let honest men never 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 yon little tree, yon blooming apricot, how I would spread and spring my wanton arms in at her window! I would bring her fruit fit for the gods to feed on. And then I am sure she would love me.”
Enter jailer
Palamon: “How now, keeper? Where’s Arcite?”
Jailer: “Banished. Prince Pirithous obtained his liberty, but nevermore upon his oath and life must he set foot upon this kingdom.”
Palamon: “He’s a blessed man. He shall see Thebes again. 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.”
Jailer: “My lord, for you I have this charge -“
Palamon: “To discharge my life?”
Jailer: “No, but from this place to remove your lordship.”
Palamon: “Prithee kill me.”
Jailer: “And hang for it afterward?”
Palamon: “Had I a sword I would kill thee.”
Jailer: “Why, my lord?”
Palamon: “Thou brings such scurvy news, thou art not worthy of life. I will not go.”
Jailer: “Indeed you must, my lord.”
Palamon: “May I see the garden?”
Jailer: “No.”
Palamon: “Then I am resolved; I will not go.”
Jailer: “I must constrain you then; and as you are dangerous I’ll clap more irons on you.”
Palamon: “Do, good keeper. I’ll shake them so, you shall not sleep. Must I go?”
Jailer: “There is no remedy.”
Palamon: “Farewell, kind window. O my lady, if ever thou has felt what sorrow was, dream how I suffer. Come, now bury me.”
Summary and Analysis
The two cousins find themselves imprisoned and fear they will remain so forever. They try to accept their fate but this is difficult as they will never be able to exercise, fall in love or fight battles. However they do have each other and wax poetic about making their prison a holy sanctuary free from the corruption in Thebes. They are as one soul shared within two bodies. ‘Were we at liberty, a wife might part us lawfully.’ Prophetically, just then Emilia enters the garden outside their window, reflecting about how men ‘are such mad things,’ due to how their passions lead them to self-destructive and reckless foolishness, and indeed, both cousins immediately fall hopelessly in love with their vision of her. Palamon insists she is his because he saw her first and that Arcite is a traitor if he desires her as well. All of this before they even meet her. Their close friendship and bond as cousins shatters within minutes of seeing Emilia. Palamon actually threatens to kill Arcite if he even looks out the window toward Emilia again. The jailer enters and leads Arcite away to see Theseus. Palamon is informed that Arcite has been released on the condition that he never step foot in Athens gain. This pivotal scene demonstrates the intense bond between the two noble kinsmen and then sees that bond destroyed in an instant with the arrival of Emilia, as they become instant enemies and anything but noble, over a woman they have merely glimpsed from afar.
Act II
Scene iii
The countryside near Athens
Enter Arcite
Arcite: “Banished from the kingdom? Tis a benefit, a mercy I must be thankful for. But banished as well from the free enjoying of that face I die for. O, ’twas studied punishment, a death beyond imagination. Palamon, thou has the start now; thou shall stay and see her bright eyes break each morning against the window and let in life to thee; thou shall feed upon the sweetness of a noble beauty that nature never exceeded nor never shall. Good gods, what happiness has Palamon! Twenty to one he’ll come to speak to her, and if she be as gentle as she is fair, I know she is his. I will not leave the kingdom. If I go, he has her. I’ll see her and be near her or no more.”
Exit Arcite
Enter four country people
1 Countryman: “My masters, I’ll be there; that’s certain.”
2 Countryman: “And I’ll be there.”
3 Countryman: “And I.”
1 Countryman: “I am sure to have my wife as jealous as a turkey.”
2 Countryman: “Clap her aboard tomorrow night and stow her, and all’s made up again.”
4 Countryman: “Shall we be lusty?”
2 Countryman: “All the boys in Athens blow wind in the breech on us. (he dances). And here I’ll be and there I’ll be for our town, and here again and there again.”
1 Countryman: “This must be done in the woods.”
3 Countryman: “We’ll see the sports, sweet companions; let’s rehearse by any means before the ladies see us and do sweetly.”
Enter Arcite
Arcite: “By your leaves, honest friends; pray you, whither go you.”
4 Countryman: “Whither? Why, what a question’s that?”
Arcite: “Yes, ’tis a question, to me who knows not.”
3 Countryman: “To the games, my friend.”
2 Countryman: “Where were you bred, you know it not?”
Arcite: “Not far, sir. Are there such games today?”
1 Countryman: “Yes, marry, are there, and such as you never saw. The Duke himself will be in person there.”
Arcite: “What pastimes are they?”
2 Countryman: “Wrestling and running.”
Exit Countrymen
Arcite: “This is an offered opportunity. I’ll 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 I may ever dwell in sight of her?
Summary and Analysis
Arcite is happy to be free but distraught that he cannot se Emilia. Furthermore, he believes Palamon is fortunate in being able to look upon her daily, not knowing that the jailer has forbid Palamon from looking out the prison window. Four countrymen enter and discuss the May Day sporting games that are about to commence. Arcite arrives and must disguise himself, as he has been banished. He asks about the games and decides he will participate, win honours and perhaps win Emilia.
Act II
Scene iv
Near the prison
Enter the jailer’s daughter
Daughter: “Why should I love this gentleman? Tis 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 it! First I saw him, and, seeing, thought he was a goodly man. He has much to please a woman in him, if he please to bestow it so, if ever these eyes yet looked upon. Next I pitied him, and so would any young wench. O my conscience, that ever dreamed, or vowed her maidenhead to a young handsome man. Then I loved him, extremely loved him, infinitely loved him. To hear him sing in an evening, what a heaven it is, and yet his songs are sad ones. Fairer spoken was never a gentleman. When I come in to bring him water in the morning, first he bows his noble body, then salutes me thus: “Fair gentle maid, good morrow; may thy goodness get thee a happy husband.’ Once he kissed me and I loved 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 ventured to set him free. What says the law then? Thus much for law or kindred! I will do it and this night; ere tomorrow he shall love me.”
Exit
Summary and Analysis
The Jailer’s Daughter knows full well her dilemma, but she marches forward nonetheless, as in a dream. Palamon is out of her reach as a noble but her love is seemingly boundless: ‘I love him extremely and infinitely.’ She determines to betray her very father and set him free, that he might love her. It seems that Palamon has conspired to lull her into such a precarious decision, having kissed her, even though he is hopelessly in love with Emilia. She has fallen in love with Palamon as rashly as the two kinsmen have fallen for Emilia.
Act II
Scene v
Ner Athens
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Emilia and Arcite, disguised.
Theseus: “You have done worthily; I have not seen since Hercules a man of tougher sinews. Whatever you are, you run and wrestle the best that these times can allow.”
Arcite: “I am proud to please you.”
Theseus: “What country bred you?”
Arcite: “This, but far off, prince.”
Theseus: “Are you a gentleman?”
Arcite: “My father said so.”
Theseus: “What proves you?”
Arcite: “A little of all noble qualities. I could have kept a hawk. I dare not praise my feat in horsemanship, yet they who knew me would say it was my best piece. Last and greatest, I would be thought a soldier.”
Theseus: “You are perfect.”
Pirithous: “Upon my soul, a proper man.”
Emilia: “He is so.”
Pirithous: “How do you like him, lady?”
Hippolyta: “I admire him. His body and fiery mind illustrate a brave father.”
Pirithous: “Mark how his virtue, like a hidden sun, breaks through his baser garments.”
Theseus: “What makes you seek this place, sir?”
Arcite: “Noble Theseus, to 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 travel, nor shall you lose your wish. Pirithous, dispose of this fair gentleman.”
Pirithous: “Thanks, Theseus. Whatever 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 have honoured 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 vowed faith. (kisses her hand)
Emilia: “You’re mine, and somewhat better than your rank I’ll use you.”
Pirithous: “I’ll see you furnished, and because you say you are a horseman, I must needs entreat you this afternoon to ride, but tis a rough one.”
Arcite: “I like him better, prince.”
Theseus: “You must be ready, Emilia, and you, friend, tomorrow by the sun to do observance to flowery May in Dian’s wood.”
Emilia: “What you want at any time let me but know it. If you serve faithfully, I dare assure you you’ll find a loving mistress.”
Theseus: “Go lead the way. 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.”
Exit
Summary and Analysis
Arcite has successfully hatched his plan and has impressed his way into Emilia’s life, as her servant. He did this by winning the May Day games put on by Duke Theseus, who claims he ‘has not seen since Hercules a man of tougher sinews.’ Arcite lies to Theseus, as he must, claiming to be a nobleman from a far off region of this Kingdom of Athens. He furthermore tells him that he has chosen to serve him, as only in his court dwells ‘fair-eyed honour.’ Everyone is duly impressed and Arcite is rewarded by being named a servant to his beloved Emilia. He has cleverly positioned himself favourably to win her heart. However, when Theseus tells Emilia that she now has a servant who could easily become a master, she responds with ‘I hope I am too wise for that.’
Act II
Scene vi
The prison
Enter Jailer’s Daughter
Daughter: “Let all the dukes and all the devils roar: he is at liberty. I have ventured for him, and out I have brought him, and there he shall keep close till I provide him files and food, for yet his bracelets are not off. O love, what a stout-hearted child thou art! 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 it, some wenches, some honest-hearted maids, will sing my dirge, and tell to memory my death was noble, dying almost a martyr. Sure, he cannot be so unmanly as to leave me here. If he do, maids will not so easily love men again. And yet he has not thanked me for what I have done; no, not so much as kissed me, and that, methinks, is not so well. 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’ll proclaim him, and to his face, no man. I’ll presently provide him necessaries and pack my clothes up, and where there is a patch of ground I’ll venture, so he be with me. By him like a shadow I’ll ever dwell. Within this hour the hubbub will be all over 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.”
Exit
Summary and Analysis
The Jailer’s Daughter has freed Palamon and she awaits him in the nearby forest so that she can file off his shackles and feed him before they run off together. And yet he is not yet there. She also notes that he has not thanked her and only hopes he is not so unmanly as to leave her there alone. She has likely lost her family over this betrayal and claims to care not about the consequences she may face. If she is executed women will surely sing songs of her martyrdom. She claims she had no choice, as she loves him so desperately beyond reason or safety. By the time the authorities figure out what has happened she hopes to be kissing the man they are looking for. At this point in the play Palamon, Arcite and The Jailer’s Daughter are all recklessly risking their very lives for blind love. Palamon has no interest whatsoever in The Jailer’s daughter and Emilia has made it clear that she is not the least bit inclined toward men or marriage.
Act III (6 scenes)
Scene I
Near Athens
Enter Arcite
Arcite: “The duke has lost Hippolyta. This is a solemn rite they owe bloomed May, and the Athenians pay it to the heart of the ceremony. O Queen Emilia, fresher than May, thou, O jewel has blest a place with thy sole presence. Tell me, O Lady Fortune, how far I may be proud. She takes strong note of me, has made me near her, and this beauteous morn presents me with a brace of horses. Alas, alas, poor cousin Palamon, poor prisoner, thou so little dreams upon my fortune that thou thinks thyself the happier thing to be so near Emilia. Me thou deems at Thebes and therein wretched, although free; but if thou knew my mistress breathed on me and that I eared her language, lived in her eye, O cuz, what passion would enclose thee.”
Enter Palamon out of a bush with his shackles, shaking his fist at Arcite.
Palamon: “Traitor kinsman, thou should perceive my passion if these signs of imprisonment were off me and this hand but owner of a sword. By all oaths, my love would make thee a confessed traitor, O thou most perfidious void’st of honour that ever bore gentle token, falsest cousin that ever blood made kin! Call’st thou her thine? I’ll prove with these hands that thou lies and art a very thief in love, not worth the name of villain. Had I a sword -“
Arcite: “Dear Cousin Palamon -“
Palamon: “Tis your passion that thus mistakes, the which, to you being enemy, cannot to me be kind. Honour and honesty I cherish and depend on, and with them, fair coz, I’ll maintain my proceedings. Sir, you were called a good knight. But their valiant temper men lose when they incline to treachery, and then they fight like compelled bears, would fly were they not tied.”
Arcite: “Kinsman, you might as well speak this and act it in your glass as to his ear who now disdains you.”
Palamon: “Come up to me, 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 Emilia is thine.”
Arcite: “Be content; you shall have garments, and perfumes to kill the smell of the prison. After, when you shall stretch yourself, there shall be at your choice both sword and armour.”
Palamon: “I do embrace you and your offer.”
Arcite:”Give me your hand – farewell. I’ll bring you every needful thing. I pray you, take comfort and be strong.”
Palamon: “Pray hold your promise. Most certain you love me not.”
Sound of wind horns
Arcite: “Hark, sir, they call the scattered to the banquet. You must guess I have an office there.”
Palamon: “Sir, I know your office unjustly is achieved. You are going now to game upon my mistress – for note you, mine she is. You have a vantage over me, but enjoy it until I may enforce my remedy. Farewell.”
Summary and Analysis
Arcite is hopeful of a future with Emilie, but does consider poor Palamon languishing in prison, imagining how furious he would be if he only knew that Arcite is with Emilia. Then suddenly Palamon leaps out from behind a bush and they are shocked to see one another. Palamon believed Arcite to be back in Thebes and Arcite was certain Palamon was still in prison. Now they are both near Emilia, but clearly Arcite has the upper hand. Palamon accuses Arcite of being a ‘Traitor Kinsman’. Arcite tries to be reasonable with Palamon, but he will have none of it, knowing that Arcite got here first and has lied his way into her confidence. At the same time as their conflict is a serious breech in their blood ties, one denotes a friendliness that is barely beneath the surface between them. They don’t want to be so out of sorts but nonetheless cling to the chivalry of their supposed love for Emilia. A horn sounds, indicating that Arcite must return to Theseus’ banquet. He promises to return with food and a file to cut through Palamon’s shackles. They speak of an honourable duel between them to determine who will win Emilie. These Two Noble Kinsmen appear as anything but, when we see them at odds over Emilie.
Act III
Scene ii
In the forest before daybreak
Enter Jailer’s Daughter, alone
Daughter: “He is gone after his fancy. Tis now well nigh morning. No matter; would it were perpetual night and darkness lord of the world. Hark, tis a wolf! In me has grief slain fear, and but for one thing I care for nothing, and that is Palamon. I care not if the wolves would jaw me. I have heard strange howls this livelong night; why may it not be they have made prey of him? He has no weapons. He cannot run; the jingling of his leg irons might call fell things to listen who have in them a sense to know a man unarmed and can smell where resistance is. I’ll set it down he’s torn to pieces. They howled many together, and then they fed on him. So much for that; how stand I then? All’s chared when he is gone. No, no; I lie. My father is to be hanged for his escape, myself to beg if I prized life so much as to deny my act. I am moped. Food took I none these two days. I have not closed my eyes saved when my lid scoured off their brine. Alas, dissolve, my life. Lest I should drown, or stab or hang myself. So which way now? The best way is the next way to a grave. All offices are done save what I fail in. But the point is this: an end, and that is all.”
Exit
Summary and Analysis
The Jailer’s Daughter assumes Palamon has lost his way and likely been eaten by the wolves she has heard howling throughout the night. It does not even occur to her that she has been left behind by one who is not in the least interested in her. Her obsession may border on madness. However, she remains sane enough to realize the fate of her poor father, which may be hers as well when she is discovered by the prison officials. She would prefer a natural death and does not want to be executed or made to commit suicide.
Act III
Scene iii
In the forest where Palamon remains hidden
Enter Arcite with meat, wine and files.
Arcite: “Ho, cousin Palamon!”
Enter Palamon
Palamon: “Arcite?”
Arcite: “The same. I have brought you food and files. Come forth and fear not; there’s no Theseus.”
Palamon: “Nor none so honest, Arcite.”
Arcite: “That’s no matter; we’ll argue that hereafter. Come, take courage; you shall not die thus beastly. Here, sir, drink – I know you are faint – then I’ll talk further with you.”
Palamon: “Arcite, thou might now poison me.”
Arcite: “Sit down and no more of these vain parleys; let us not, having our ancient reputation with us, make talk for fools and cowards. To your health, sir. Sit down and let me entreat you by all the honesty and honour in you no mention of this woman; twill disturb us. We shall have time enough.”
Palamon: “Well, sir, I’ll pledge you. (He drinks)
Arcite: “Drink a good hearty draught; it breeds good blood, man. Do not you feel it thaw you?”
Palamon: “Stay, I’ll tell you after a draught or two more.”
Arcite: “Spare it not. The duke has more, coz. Eat now.”
Palamon: “Yes.” (He eats)
Arcite: “I am glad you have so good a stomach.”
Palamon: “I am gladder I have such good meat.”
Arcite: “Your hunger needs no sauce, I see.”
Palamon: “Not much. What is this?”
Arcite: “Venison.”
Palamon: “Tis a lusty meat. Give me more wine. Here, Arcite, to the wenches we have known in our days… for Emily upon my life. Away with this strained mirth. By heaven and earth, there’s nothing in thee honest.”
Arcite: “Then I’ll leave you. You are a beast now.”
Palamon: “As thou makes me, traitor.”
Arcite: “There’s all things needful – files and shirts and perfumes. I’ll come again some two hours hence and bring that that shall quiet all.”
Palamon: “A sword and armour.”
Arcite: “You are now too foul. Farewell.”
Summary and Analysis
Arcite returns to Palamon with food, drink and files. At first Paladon continues where he left off with the insults, but suddenly they just talk while eating and drinking wine, slipping easily into their beloved kinship. They begin reminiscing about the various women they have known when Palamon suddenly remembers Emilia and goes back on the offensive aggression again. Arcite prepares to leave again so he can bring more food and clothes and Palamon reminds him to bring swords as well. They will apparently fight a duel upon his return. It is very evident that their hearts are not in being deadly enemies. They so easily fall back into being the blood brothers we knew them to be before they saw Emilie. But then Palamon begins raging again and it becomes hard to predict what they will do when Arcite returns.
Act III
Scene iv
At night in the forest where the Jailer’s Daughter is
Enter the Jailer’s Daughter
I am very cold and all the stars are out too. The sun has seen my folly. Palamon, alas, no; he’s in heaven. Where am I now? Yonder’s the sea and there’s a ship. How it tumbles! And there’s a rock lies watching under water. Now it beats upon it. There’s a leak sprung, a sound one. How they cry! Good night, good night; you’re gone. I am very hungry. Would I could find a fine frog. He would tell me news from all parts of the world. Then would I sail to the King of Pygmies. Now my father, twenty to one, is trussed up in a trice tomorrow morning. I’ll never say a word.”
Summary and Analysis
The Jailer’s Daughter continues to wander throughout the forest, lost and cold. She sees a ship at sea and watches it crash upon a rock and sink. She immediately wishes that a frog would appear to tell her the news of the world. Was the ship real or a figment of her deteriorating state of mind? She then figures her father will hang tomorrow for Palamon having gone missing and she vows that she will never say a word about it. One must wonder if her prolonged condition of being cold, hungry and lost in the forest, all the while assuming Palamon has been devoured by wolves and her father will be killed in the morning for what she has done, has made her truly mad. The nonsensical song she sings at the end of the scene further suggests this may be the case.
Act III
Scene v
Elsewhere in the forest
Enter a schoolmaster, five Morris dancers and five wenches
Schoolmaster: “Fie, fie, what tediosity and disinsanity is here among ye! Have my rudiments been laboured so long with ye, and do you still cry ‘Where’ and How’ and ‘Wherefore’? You most course capacities, have I said “Thus let be’, and no man understands me? Ye are all dunces! For why here stand I; here the duke comes. The duke appears. I meet him, and unto him I utter learned things. He hears and then cries ‘Rare!’ and I go forward. At length I fling my cap up; mark there! Then do you break out before him. Like true lovers cast yourselves in a body decently and sweetly trace and turn.”
1 Countryman: “And sweetly we will do it, master.”
2 Countryman: “Where’s the tabor?”
Taborer: “Here, my mad boys; have at ye.”
Schoolmaster: “But I say, where’s their women?”
4 Countryman: “Here’s Friz and Maudlin.”
2 Countryman: “And little Luce with the white legs, and bouncing Barbery.”
1 Countryman: “And freckled Nell.”
Schoolmaster: “Where be your ribbons, maids? Swim with your bodies.”
Nell: “Let us alone, sir.”
Schoolmaster: “Where’s the rest of the music?”
3 Countryman: “Dispersed, as you commanded.”
Schoolmaster: “We have, as learned authors utter, laboured vainly. Our business has become a nullity.”
Enter Jailer’s Daughter singing non-sensibly
3 Countryman: “There’s a dainty madwoman, master, comes in the nick of time and as mad as a March hare. If we can get her to dance, we are made again. I warrant, she’ll do the rarest gambols.”
1 Countryman: “A mad woman? We are made, boys.”
Schoolmaster: “And are you mad, good woman?”
Jailer’s Daughter: “I would be sorry else. Give me your hand.”
Schoolmaster: “Why?”
Jailer’s Daughter: “I can tell your fortune. You are a fool. Friend, you must eat no white bread; if you do, your teeth will bleed extremely. Shall we dance, ho? I know you. You are a tinker.”
Schoolmaster: “A tinker, damsel?”
Jailer’s Daughter: “Or a conjurer. Raise me a devil now, and let him play on the bells and bones.”
Schoolmaster: “Go, take her. Strike up and lead her in.” (the music plays)
2 Countryman: “Come lass, let’s trip it.”
Jailer’s Daughter: “I’ll lead.”
3 Countryman: Do, Do! (they dance)
Schoolmaster: “Persuasively and cunningly. Away boys. Mark your cues.”
Exit all but the schoolmaster
Enter Theseus, Pirithous, Hippolyta and Emilia
Theseus: “This way the stag took.”
Schoolmaster: “Stay and edify.”
Theseus: “What have we here?”
Pirithous: “Some country sport, upon my life, sir.”
Theseus: “Well, sir, go forward. We will edify and we will stay it.”
Schoolmaster: “Thou valiant Duke, all hail! All hail, sweet ladies! If you but favour, we are a few of those collected here who ruder tongues distinguish ‘villager’, and to severity and not to fable, we’re a merry rout, or else a rabble, or company, or chorus, who before thy dignity will dance a Morris. And that I am the rectifier of all, and do present this frame; and dainty duke, help me, with thy twinkling eyes look right and straight upon this mighty Morris. I first appear to speak before thy noble grace. Next, the Lord of May and Lady bright; the chambermaid and servingman; then my host and his fat spouse who welcome the galled traveller, and with a beckoning informs the tapster to inflame the reckoning. Then the beast eating clown, and next the fool. Say ‘ay’ and all shall presently advance.”
Theseus: “Ay, ay, by any means.”
Pirithous: ” Produce!”
Schoolmaster: “Come forth! Duke, if we have pleased 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: “How does my sweetheart?”
Hippolyta: “Never so pleased, sir.”
Emilia: “Twas an excellent dance, and for a preface, I never heard better.”
Theseus: “Schoolmaster, I thank you. See them all rewarded.”
Pirithous gives money
Theseus: “Now to our sports again.”
Schoolmaster: “May the stag thou hunts stand long and thy dogs be swift and strong.”
Exit Theseus and his party
Schoolmaster: “Come, we are all made. Ye have danced rarely, wenches.”
Summary and Analysis
In this scene of pure comic relief, the schoolmaster is flustered because the show he intends for the duke and his court is not well prepared and a dancer is missing. Just then the Jailer’s Daughter appears and she is evidently mad but the group decides they can use her and her dancing will be inspired. When the schoolmaster speaks with her the madness is definitively confirmed and the troupe believes she will make a perfect Morris dancer. Theseus and his family arrive and the players begin. The royal family thoroughly enjoys the performance and the players are generously rewarded. Aside from comic relief, this scene confirms our suspicion that the Jailer’s daughter has been rendered mad by her ordeal of freeing Palamon from prison. She has been famished and lost for days in the forest, believing the man she loves has been devoured by wolves and that her innocent father will be put to death for allowing Palamon to escape. Shakespeare weaves her into this scene with comic perfection.
Act III
Scene vi
In the forest where Palamon remains
Enter Palamon
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 restored my lost strength to me, I was grown so low with my wants. I thanks thee, Arctic; thou art yet a fair foe. To delay it longer would make the world think that I am not a soldier. Therefore, this blessed morning shall be the last, and that sword, if it but hold, I kill him with; tis justice. So love and fortune for me!”
Enter Arcite with armours and swords
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 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.”
Palamon: “Then I shall quit you.”
Arcite: “Defy me in these fair terms, and you show more than a mistress to me. We were not bred to talk, man. When we are armed 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 will be seen, and quickly, yours or mine. Will it please you to arm, sir? Or if you feel yourself not fitting yet and furnished with your old strength, I’ll stay, cousin, and every day discourse you into health. Your person I am friends with, and I could wish I had not said I loved her, but loving such a lady, and justifying my love, I must not fly from it.”
Palamon: “Arcite, thou are so brave an enemy that no man but thy cousin’s fit to kill thee. I am well and lusty. Choose your arms.”
Arcite: “Choose you, sir, for as I am a soldier, I will not spare you.”
Palamon: “That’s well said. Then as I am an honest man and love with all the justice of affection, I’ll pay thee soundly. This I’ll take.” (chooses arms)
Arcite: “That’s mine then. I’ll arm you first.”
Palamon: “Do. Pray thee tell me, cousin, where got thou this good armour?”
Arcite: “Tis the duke’s, and to say true, I stole it. Do I pinch you?”
Palamon: “No.”
Arcite: “Is it not too heavy?”
Palamon: “I shall make it serve.”
Arcite: “I’ll buckle it close.”
Palamon: “Good cousin, thrust the buckle through far enough.”
Arcite: “Will you fight bare armed?”
Palamon: “We shall be the nimbler.”
Arcite: “But use your gauntlets though. Prithee, take mine.”
Palamon: “Thank you, Arcite. How do I look?”
Arcite: “Faith, love has used you kindly.”
Palamon: “I’ll warrant thee, I’ll strike home.”
Arcite: “Do, and spare not. I’ll give you cause, sweet cousin.”
Palamon: “Now to you, sir. Methinks this armour’s very much like that thou wore the 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 charged upon the left wing of the enemy I spurred hard to come up, and under me I had a right good horse, but all was vainly laboured in me; you outwent me. 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 clip of thunder.”
Palamon: “But still before that flew the lightning of your valour. Stay a little; is not this piece too tight?”
Arcite: “No, no; tis well.”
Palamon: “I would have nothing hurt thee but my sword; a bruise would be dishonour.”
Arcite: “Take my sword; I hold it better.”
Palamon: “I thank ye – no, keep it; your life lies on it. My cause and honour guard me!”
Arcite: “And me my love! Is there aught else to say?”
Palamon: “This only and no more: thou art my aunt’s son and that blood we desire to shed is mutual – in me, thine, and in thee, mine. If you kill me, the gods and I forgive thee. If there be a place prepared for those who sleep in honour, I wish his weary soul who 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, for none but such dare die in these just trials. Once more, farewell, my cousin.”
Palamon: “Farewell, Arcite.”
They fight but then hear horns from the duke’s train
Arcite: “Lo, cousin. Our folly has outdone us.”
Palamon: “Why?”
Arcite: “This is the duke a-hunting, as I told you. If we be found, we are wretched. O, retire for honour’s sake and safety into your bush again. 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.”
Palamon: “No, no, cousin, I will no more be hidden nor put off this great adventure to a second trial. I know your cunning and I know your cause. He who faints now, shame take him! Put thyself upon thy present guard.”
Arcite: “Are you not mad?”
Palamon: “Or I will make advantage of this hour my own. Know, weak cousin, I love Emilia, and in that I’ll bury thee.”
Arcite: “Then come what can come, thou shall know, Palamon, I dare as well die as discourse or sleep. Have at thy life.”
They fight again
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia and Pirithous
Theseus: “What ignorant and mad malicious traitors are you who against the tenor of my laws are making battle? By Castor, both shall die.”
Palamon: “Hold thy word, Theseus. We are certainly both traitors, both despisers of thy goodness. I am Palamon, he who broke thy prison – think well what that deserves – and this is Arcite. A bolder traitor never trod thy ground, a falser never seemed friend. This is the man who was begged and banished; and in this disguise against thy own edicts follows thy sister – that fortunate bright star, the fair Emilia – whose servant justly I am, and, which is more, dares think her his. This treachery I call him now to answer. If thou be as thou are spoken, great and virtuous, the true decider of all injuries, say ‘fight again’, and thou shall see me, Theseus, do such a justice thyself will envy. Then take my life; I’ll woo thee to it.”
Pirithous: “What more than man is this?”
Arcite: “We seek not thy breath of mercy, Theseus. 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 served her truest, worthiest, as I dare kill this cousin who denies it, let me be most traitor. For scorning thy edict, duke, ask that lady why her eyes command me to stay here and love her, and if she say ‘traitor’, I am a villain fit to lie unburied.”
Palamon: “Thou shall have pity of us both, O Theseus, if unto neither thou show mercy. Stop, as thou are just, thy noble ear against us. Let us die together at one instant, duke. Only a little let him fall before me that I may tell my soul he shall not have her.”
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 them, for ere the sun set both shall sleep forever.”
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: “Dear sister, 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’ll get mercy. (she kneels). Help me, dear sister; in a deed so virtuous the powers of all women will be with us. (Hippolyta kneels) Most royal brother -“
Hippolyta: “Sir, by our tie of marriage -“
Emilia: “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, by your own virtues infinite -“
Hippolyta: “By valour, by all the chaste nights I have ever pleased you -“
Theseus: “These are strange conjurings.”
Pirithous: “Nay then, I’ll in too. (he kneels) By all our friendships, 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, Theseus -“
Pirithous: “To crown all this: by your most noble soul, I beg first -“
Hippolyta: “Next hear my prayers -“
Emilia: “Last let me entreat, sir -“
Pirithous: “For mercy.”
Hippolyta: “Mercy.”
Emilia: “Mercy on these princes.”
Theseus: “Ye make my faith reel. Say I felt compassion to em both, how would you place it?”
Emilia: “Upon their lives.”
Theseus: “You are a right woman, sister. If you desire their lives, invent a way safer than banishment. Can these two live 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 them. I have said they die; better they fall by the law than one another.”
Emilie: “O my noble brother, that oath was rashly made and in your anger; your reason will not hold it. If such vows stand for express will, all the world must perish. Beside, I have another oath against yours, of more authority, I am 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 never deny me anything fit for my modest suit and your free granting. I tie you to your word now. If you fail in it, think how you maim your honour. Now I am set-a-begging, sir, and I am deaf to all but your compassion. Shall anyone who loves me perish for me? That were a cruel wisdom. O, Duke Theseus, the goodly mothers who have groaned for these and all the longing maids who ever loved, if your vow stands, shall curse me and my beauty, and in their funeral songs for these two cousins despise my cruelty and cry woe till I am nothing but the scorn of women. For heaven’s sake, save their lives and banish them.”
Theseus: “On what conditions?”
Emilia: “Swear them 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’ll be cut to pieces before I take this oath. Forget I love her? O, all th gods despise me then. 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?”
Palamon: “He is a villain then.”
Piritheus: “These are men!”
Arcite: “No, never, duke. Though I think I shall never enjoy her, yet I’ll preserve the honour of affection and die for her, make death a devil.”
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 them, and, if you can love, end this difference. I give consent. Are you content too, princes?”
Both: “With all our souls.”
Theseus: “He who she refuses must die then.”
Both: “Any death thou can invent, Duke.”
Palamon: “If I fall from the 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 them?”
Theseus: “Thus I ordain it, by my honour, or both shall die. You should both to your country, and each within this month, appear again in this place, in which I’ll place a pyramid; and whether, before us who are here, can force his cousin by fair and knightly strength to touch the pillar, he shall enjoy her, the other lose his head. Will this content you?”
Palamon: “Yes. Here, cousin Arcite. (offers his hand) I am friends again till that hour.”
Arcite: “I embrace thee.”
Theseus: “Are you content, sister?”
Emilia: “Yes, I must, sir, else both miscarry.”
Theseus: “As you are gentlemen this quarrel sleeps till the hour prefixed.”
Palamon: “We dare not fail thee, Theseus.”
Summary and Analysis
This scene is almost farcical, as these cousins who clearly love each other prepare to fight to the death over Emilia. Arcite returns to the woods with swords and armour for a duel with Palamon, who says that he wishes Arcite ‘would be as honourable a kinsman as he is a foe’. The cousins choose their weapons and reminisce warmly about their past battles fought together all the while helping each other put on their armour. They shake hands and prepare to fight when a horn is heard marking the approach of Theseus and his train. Arcite instructs Palamon to conceal himself in the bushes, since Theseus will likely put him to death for escaping prison. Palamon thinks that would appear cowardly and he commences the duel with his cousin. Theseus abruptly orders the cousins to stop their fight and Palamon comes clean to him about his entire story as well as that of Arcite. He pleads with Theseus to allow him to dispatch Arcite and then says he will beg Theseus to kill him, Palamon, immediately. Arcite denies he is a traitor and asks Theseus to verify this with Emilia, who he loves. Palamon insists they are both traitors and asks that they both be dispatched, Arcite just before Palamon so that he could witness Arcite’s traitorous death. Theseus agrees that they both should die. But then, once again, the women speak up and appeal for mercy. Emilia and Hippolyta alternately pepper Theseus with their plea to spare the cousins on behalf of all women, suggesting that the fairer sex are generally more merciful and reasonable than men. However, just then Pirithous chimes in with his support of their appeal. Theseus finally inquires of Emilia just what she is suggesting and she supports mere banishment. Theseus believes if he agrees to do this the cousins will merely slaughter each other at first opportunity. Emilia finally pulls out her trump card, reminding Theseus of the earlier oath he made ‘to never deny Emilia anything.” She believes that the death of these cousins will sully her reputation. She asks Theseus to spare their lives on the condition they not fight over her, never again interfere in Theseus’ kingdom and remain strangers to one another. But the cousins themselves reject this solution, maintaining their love for Emilia. Theseus’ next suggestion is that Emilia chooses one of the cousins for her husband and the other must die. Although the cousins wholeheartedly agree, Emilia cannot accept that responsibility. Finally Theseus declares that they two cousins may return home for a month and when they come back Theseus will have built a pyramid on their duel site and whichever one can force the other to touch the structure first may wed Emilia and be honoured throughout the kingdom while the other will be put to death. Emilia hesitates but agrees. Earlier in the play Emilia expressed no interest whatsoever in marriage but now feels responsible enough for this entire ordeal that she relents and agrees to marry the victor. Wheh! Now back to the poor mad daughter of the seemingly condemned jailer.
Act IV
Scene i
In the prison
Enter The Jailer and his friend
Jailer: “Heard you no more? Was nothing said of me concerning the escape of Palamon?”
1 Friend: “Nothing that I heard. Yet I must perceive ere I departed a great likelihood of both their pardons, for Hippolyta and fair-eyed Emilia upon their knees begged with such handsome pity that the duke methought stood staggering whether he should follow his rash oath or the sweet compassion of those two ladies. And the noble prince, Pirithous, set in too, that I hope all shall be well. Neither heard I one question of your name or his escape.”
Enter 2 Friend
Jailer: “Pray heaven it hold so.”
2 Friend: “Be of good comfort, man. I bring you news – good news.”
Jailer: “They are welcome.”
2 Friend: “Palamon has cleared you and got your pardon, and discovered how and by whose means he escaped, which was your daughter’s, whose pardon is procured too. The prisoners have their lives, but there be new conditions, which you will hear of at a better time.”
Enter Wooer
Wooer: “Alas sir, where is your daughter? When did you see her?”
Jailer: “This morning.”
Wooer: “Was she well?”
Jailer: “I do not think she was very well; for the very day I asked her questions, and she answered me so far from what she was, so childishly, so sillily, as if she were a fool, an innocent.”
Wooer: “Tis true. She is mad.”
1 Friend: “It cannot be.”
Wooer: “I believe you’ll find it so.”
Jailer: “I half suspected what you told me. Either this was her love to Palamon or fear of my miscarrying on his escape, or both.”
Wooer: “Tis likely. As I late was angling in this Great Lake that lies behind the palace, from the far shore I heard a voice, a shrill one, and attentive I gave my ear and saw that it was your daughter. I heard her repeat this often: ‘Palamon is gone, is gone to the wood to gather mulberries; I’ll find him out tomorrow. His shackles will betray him; he’ll be taken, and what shall I do then? I’ll bring a hundred black-eyed maids who love as I do, and we’ll dance an antic before the duke and beg his pardon.’ Then she talked of you, sir – that you must lose your head tomorrow morning, and she must gather flowers to bury you. And then she wept and sung and sighed, and with the same breath smiled and kissed her hand. She slipped away far from me. Then three or four I saw from far off cross her – one of them I knew to be your brother. I left them with her and hither came to tell you. Here they are.”
Enter Jailer’s brother and daughter
Daughter: (singing) “May you never more enjoy the light. Is not this a fine song?”
Brother: “O, a very fine one.”
Daughter: “I can sing twenty more.”
Brother: “I think you can.”
Daughter: “Yes, truly can I. Are you not a tailor?”
Brother: “Yes.”
Daughter: “Where’s my wedding gown?”
Brother: “I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
Daughter: “For I must lose my maidenhead by cocklight. Good evening, good men. Pray, did you ever hear of one young Palamon?”
Jailer: “Yes, wench, we know him.”
Daughter: “Is he not a fine young gentleman?”
Jailer: “Tis, love.”
Brother: “By no means cross her; she is then distempered far worse than now she shows.”
1 Friend: “Yes, he’s a fine man.”
Daughter: “O, is he so? You have a sister?”
1 Friend: “Yes.”
Daughter: “But she shall never have him; tell her so. You’d best look to her, for if she sees 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 them and let them all alone. Is it not a wise course.”
1 Friend: “Yes.”
Daughter: “There are at least two hundred now with child by him – there must be four.”
2 Friend: “This is strange.”
Brother: “As ever you heard, but say nothing.”
1 Friend: “No”.
Daughter: “They come from all parts of the dukedom for him. I’ll warrant ye, he had not so few last night as twenty to dispatch.”
Jailer: “She’s lost. Past all cure.”
Brother “Heaven forbid, man.”
Daughter: (to jailer) “Come hither. You are a wise man?”
1 Friend: “Does she know him?”
2 Friend: “No. Would she did.”
Daughter: “You are master of a ship?”
Jailer: “Yes.”
Daughter: “Where’s your compass?”
Jailer: “Here.”
Daughter: “Set it to the north, and now direct your course to the woods where Palamon lies longing for me. Come. The wind is fair. Top the bowline; out with the mainsai! Where’s your whistle, master?”
Brother: “Let’s get her in.”
Daughter: “Bear for it, master. Tack about!”
Summary and Analysis
The jailer enquires from his friends of any news they may have about Palamon’s escape or his own fate. One friend explains that Theseus has pardoned both cousins thanks to the pleas from Hippolyta, Emilia and Pirithous. Then a second friend reports that Palamon has vindicated the Jailer by telling him that it was the Jailer’s daughter who orchestrated the escape. She too will be pardoned and Palamon will offer her a dowry for helping him get free from the prison. In this way Palamon commits an honourable deed, even though he won’t give her what she wants most of all: him. The wooer arrives as one intent on wooing the daughter, regardless of her infatuation with Palamon. He tells everyone assembled that he encountered the daughter and that she was speaking nonsense and singing strange songs about Palamon. He noticed that she encountered several men, including one who was the jailer’s brother. The daughter then arrives with the brother, singing and speaking nonsense about having to lose her virgnity by the next day. She insists that hundreds of women are in love with Palamon and that he has impregnated 200 of them. Yet she believes he waits for only her now in the woods. The jailer’s daughter is clearly mad at this point. She seems to not recognize her own father, perhaps due to the guilt of risking his life by helping Palamon to escape. As Act 4 commences, we witness the first signs of a reconciliation of plot, with news that the cousins, the jailer and his daughter have all been pardoned. And yet much remains to be resolved.
Act IV
Scene ii
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 shell 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 were here a mortal woman, 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 itself sits smiling. What a brow, of what a spacious majesty he carries, arched like the great-eyed Juno, but far sweeter. Palamon is but his foil, to him a mere dull shadow. He’s swart and meagre, of an eye as heavy, as if he had lost his mother, a still temper, 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 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. I am sotted, utterly lost. My virgin’s faith has fled me. 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 pretty things of equal sweetness cannot distinguish but must cry for both.”
Enter Gentleman
Emilia: “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 soiled 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 and Pirithous
Theseus: “Bring them in quickly, by any means; I long to see them. Your two contending lovers have returned 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: “You shall see men fight now, Hippolyta.”
Hippolyta: “I wish it, but not the cause, my lord. Tis pity love should be so tyrannous. O, my soft-hearted sister, what think you? Weep not till they weep blood. Wench, it must be.”
Theseus: “You have steeled them with your beauty.”
Emilia: (aside) “Poor wench, go weep, for whosoever wins loses a noble cousin for your sins.”
Summary and Analysis
Emilia holds two portraits of the princes and wishes to choose one of them but also somehow prevent them from killing one another. She passionately praises them both and curses herself for her inability to choose between them. Could it be because she loves women, as clearly expressed in Act I, Scene III? Or perhaps because the two cousin love each other so? When she looks to the heavens for guidance it is Diana she appeals to, the chaste Goddess of virginity. The cousins arrive a month later, as arranged, although they could have chosen their love for each other and not returned specifically for one of them to kill the other over Emilia. Theseus tells Emilia that the cousins have steeled themselves over her beauty and orders the battlefield be prepared for the fight. Emilia is truly distraught over her complicity in this combat of cousins, in which she feels there can be no winner, since the victor will vanquish his own beloved kinsman.
Act IV
Scene iii
The Prison
Enter Jailer, Wooer and Doctor
Doctor: “Her distraction is more at some time of the moon than other, is it not?”
Jailer: “She is continually in a harmless distemper, sleeps little; dreaming of another world and a better; and what broken piece of matter so ever she’s about, Palamon is worked into it. (enter daughter) Look where she comes; you shall perceive her behaviour.”
Daughter: “I have forgot it quite. The burden on it was penned by no worse a man than Emilia’s schoolmaster. In the next world will Dido see Palamon, and then she will be out of love with Aeneas.”
Doctor: “What stuff’s here? Poor soul.”
Jailer: “Even thus, all day long.”
Daughter: “Now for this charm that I told you of, you must bring a piece of silver on the tip of your tongue or no ferry.”
Doctor: “How prettily she’s amiss! Note her a little further.”
Daughter: “Faith, I’ll tell you. Sometimes we go to barley-break, we of the blessed. Alas, tis a sore life they have in the other place – such burning, frying, boiling, hissing, howling, chattering, cursing. Take heed. If one be mad or hang or drown themselves, thither they go, Jupiter bless us, and there shall we be put in a cauldron of lead, and there boils like a gammon of bacon that will never be enough.”
Doctor: “How her brain coins.”
Daughter: “Lords and courtiers who have got maids with child, they are in this place; they shall stand in fire up to the navel and in ice up to the heart, and there the offending part burns and the deceiving part freezes – in truth, a very grievous punishment, as one would think, for such a trifle. Believe me, one would marry a leprous witch to be rid of it, I assure you.”
Doctor: “How she continues this fancy! Tis not an engraved madness but a most thick and profound melancholy.”
Daughter: “To hear there a proud lady and a proud city wife howl together! I were a beast I would call it good sport. One cries ‘O, that ever I did it behind the arras’, and then howls.”
Jailer: “What think you of her, sir?”
Doctor: “I think she has a perturbed mind., which I cannot minister to.”
Jailer: “Alas, what then?”
Doctor: “Understand you she ever affected any man ere she beheld Palamon?”
Jailer: “I was once, sir, in great hope she had fixed her liking on this gentleman, my friend.”
Wooer: “I did think so too.”
Doctor: “This intemperate surfeit of her eye has distempered 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: confine 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. Sing to her such green songs of love as she says Palamon has sung in prison. All this shall become Palamon. It is a falsehood she is in, which is with falsehoods to be combatted. I have seen it approved, how many times I know not, but to make the number more, I have great hope in this. Let us put it in execution and hasten the success, which, doubt not, will bring forth comfort.”
Summary and Analysis
The scene opens with the doctor asking the Jailer about his daughter, who appears totally discombobulated in a fantasy world of her unreciprocated love for Palamon. The daughter appears and there seems to be a method to her madness. She refers to the schoolmaster who included her in the wooded Morris Dance and seems to reconcile with not having Palamon in this life but envisioning them together in the afterlife. She describes a vivid portrait of hell and the suffering of the people condemned there. The doctor concludes that her affliction is not so much madness but melancholy. We learn that before Palamon the Wooer and the Jailer’s daughter shared a love, one that the wooer wishes he could re-awaken. The doctor suggests the wooer impersonate Palamon, share a meal with the daughter and declare his love for her. His theory is that they should confront her fantasies with additional fantasies. ’Falsehoods are to be combatted with falsehoods.’ He had had great success with this approach before and is hopeful it will work again in this instance. This is a comedy, after all, and while not all the principles will survive it, a cheerful resolution should prevail as much as possible, so we can only hope the doctor is correct in his assessment and treatment of the Jailer’s Daughter, as we return to the kinsmen and commence Act V
Act V
Scene i
On the battlefield
Enter Theseus, Pirithous and Hippolyta
Theseus: “Now let them enter and before the gods tender their holy prayers. They have noble work at hand.”
Pirithous: “Sir, they enter.”
Enter Palamon and Arcite with their knights
Theseus: “You valiant and strong hearted enemies that this day come to blow that nearness out that flames between you, lay by your anger for an hour and dove-like before the holy altars, bow down your stubborn bodies. Your ire is more than mortal; so your help be, and as the gods regard you, fight with justice. I’ll leave you to your prayers.”
Pirithous: “Honour crown the worthiest!”
Exit Theseus and his train
Palamon: “The glass is running now that cannot finish till one of us expire. Think you but thus: that were there aught in me which strove to show my enemy in this business, were it one eye against another, arm oppressed by arm, I would destroy the offender, coz – I would – though parcel of myself. Then from this gather how I should tender you.”
Arcite: “I am in labour to push your name, your ancient love, our kindred, out of my memory, and in the self-same place to seat something I would confound. So hoist we the sails that must these vessels port even where the heavenly limiter pleases.”
Palamon: “You speak well. Before I turn, let me embrace thee, cousin.” (They embrace). “This shall I never do again.”
Arcite: “One farewell.”
Palamon: “Why let it be so. Farewell, Coz.”
Arcite: “Farewell, sir.”
Exit Palamon and his knights
Arcite: “Knights, kinsmen, lovers, yea, true worshippers of Mars, whose spirit expels the seeds of fear and the apprehension which still is father of it, go with me. There require of him the hearts of lions and the breathe of tigers, yea, the fierceness too, yea, the speed also – to go on, I mean, else wish we to be snails. You know my prize must be dragged out of blood. Force and great feat must put my garland on me. Our intercession then must be to him who makes the camp a cistern brimmed with the blood of men. Give me your aid and bend your spirits toward him.” (They fall prostate, then kneel). “Thou mighty one whose approach comets prewarn and whose havoc in vast fields unearthed skulls proclaim: me, thy pupil, instruct this day with military skill, that I may advance and by thee be styled the lord of the day. Give me, great Mars, some token of thy pleasure.” (Here there is heard clanging of armour, with thunder) “O great corrector of enormous times, shaker of over-rank states, thou grand decider of dusty old titles, who heals with blood the earth when it is sick and cures the world of the pleurisy of people. I do take thy signs auspiciously and in thy name to my design march boldly – let us go.
Exit Arcite and his knights
Enter Palamon and his knights
Palamon: “Our stars must glister with new fire or be today extinct; our argument is love. To the goddess Venus commend we our proceeding.” (They kneel) “Hail, sovereign queen of secrets who has power to call the fiercest tyrant from his rage and weep unto a girl, who has the might even with an eye-glance to choke mar’s drum and to turn the alarm to whispers; who may force the king to be his subject’s vassal and induce stale gravity to dance: what godlike power has thou not power upon? Take to thy grace me, thy avowed soldier. I have never been foul-mouth against the law, and never revealed secrets, for I knew none. I never practiced upon man’s wife nor would the libels read of liberal wits. Yea, him I do not love who tells close offices the foulest way nor names concealments in the boldest language. Such a one I am and vow that lover never yet made sigh truer than I. O then, most soft, sweet goddess, give me the victory of this question, which is true love’s merit, and bless me with a sign of thy great pleasure.” (Here music is heard and doves are seen to flutter) “O thou who from eleven to ninety reigns in mortal bosoms, I give thee thanks and arm in assurance my body to this business. Let us rise and bow before the goddess. Time come on.”
Exit Palamon and his knights
Enter Emilia, in white and wearing a wreath, with her maids
Emilia: “O sacred and constant queen, Diana, abandoner of revels, mute contemplative, sweet, solitary, I here, thy priest, am humbled before thy altar. O vouchsafe, look upon thy virgin; and, sacred mistress, lend thy ear, into whose port never entered wanton sound – to my petition, seasoned with holy fear. This is my last of vestal office. I am bride-habited but maiden-hearted. A husband I have pointed, but do not know him. Out of two I should choose one and pray for his success, but I am guiltless of election. Of my eyes, were I to lose one – they are equal precious – I could doom neither. Therefore, most modest queen, he of the two pretenders, who best loves me, let him take off my garland or else grant the quality I hold I may continue in thy band. If well inspired, this battle shall confound both these brave knights, and I, a virgin flower, must grow alone, unpacked.” (Here is heard a sudden twang of instruments, as a rose falls from a tree) ”The flower is fallen – O mistress, thou here discharges me. I shall be gathered, I think. I hope she’s pleased; her signs were gracious.”
Exit Emilia and her maids
Summary and Analysis
Theseus arranges for the two kinsmen to pray before the gods before they finally settle their dispute once and for all. The humans have done all they can. It is now in the hands of the gods. Palamon assures Arcite that were there the slightest bit of him that were reluctant to enter combat with Arcite, he would cut that piece out of himself, suggesting perhaps that although he may be somewhat hesitant, he will not alter his course. Arcite, on the other hand, does his very best to forget the kinship and love they have shared, so that he too can carry on toward this seemingly senseless slaughter. They hug for the very last time and part to pray to their separate gods. Arcite kneels before the altar of Mars, the Roman god of war, and asks for a sign of his approval. Mars responds with thunder and the clanging of arms, convincing Arcite of the justification for his participation in the duel. Palamon prays to Venus, the goddess of love, for support. ’Our argument is love’ he declares, as it is his devotion to Emilia that brings him to combat his cousin. He appeals to the power of the goddess to persuade events, just as earlier the female characters of Emilia and Hippolyta appealed to mighty Theseus for mercy and understanding. Venus offers a sign of her indulgence with the sound of music and the fluttering of doves. Both kinsmen feel honoured by their respective gods. Palamon, more the aggressor, has made his case before the altar of love, and Arcite, the more reconciliatory of the cousins, has fortified himself with the support of the god of war. After the knights have departed Emilia arrives before the altar of Diana, the virgin goddess of the hunt. She speaks to Diana her final prayer as a virgin, asking for guidance determining the knight who loves her most and will thus remove her garland / virginity. A rose tree appears with thorny roses, a bloody presage, she fears, that both knights will perish in their imminent battle and hence she will remain an ‘unpicked flower’, which nonetheless pleases her: ‘I am bride-habited but maid-hearted’. But just then music is heard and a rose falls to the ground, a portent, she believes, of an inevitable marriage to whichever knight is victorious. It is not a fate she freely chooses, but one she necessarily accepts. Of all the main characters it seems only the victorious knight will choose his fate, as the other must die, Emilia will reluctantly consent to marriage and the Jailer’s Daughter is rendered mad by rejection. Yet, again, this is a comedy and there remain three scenes and an epilogue.
Act V
Scene ii
In the Prison
Enter the doctor, Jailer and the Wooer, in the habit of Palamon
Doctor: “Has this advise I gave you done any good upon her?”
Wooer: “O, very much. The maids who kept her company have half persuaded her that I am Palamon. Within this half-hour she came smiling to me and asked me when I would kiss her. I told her presently and kissed her twice.”
Doctor: “Twas well done; twenty times would have been far better, for there the cure lies mainly. Do anything – lie with her if she asks you.”
Jailer: “Ho there, doctor!”
Doctor: “Yes, in the way of cure.”
Jailer: “But first in the way of honesty.”
Doctor: “That’s but a niceness; never cast your child away for honesty. Cure her first this way. Then if she will be honest, she has the path before her.”
Jailer: “Thank you, doctor.”
Doctor: “Pray bring her in and let’s see how she is.”
Jailer: “I will tell her that Palamon stays for her. But doctor, methinks you are in the wrong still.”
Exit the jailer
Doctor: “Go, go. You fathers are fine fools. Her honesty? We should give her physic till we find that!”
Wooer: “Why, do you think she is not honest, sir?”
Doctor: “How old is she?”
Wooer: “She is eighteen.”
Doctor: “She may be, but tis nothing to our purpose. Whatever her father says, if you perceive her mood inclining that way I spoke of, the way of the flesh – do you have me?”
Wooer: “Yes, very well, sir.”
Doctor: “Please her appetite. It cures her and the melancholy humour that infects her.”
Wooer: “I am of your mind, doctor.”
Doctor: “You’ll find it so.”
Enter Jailer and his daughter, mad
Doctor: “She comes; pray humour her.”
Jailer: “Come, your love, Palamon, stays for you, child.”
Daughter: “I thank him for his gentle patience.. He’s a kind gentleman, and I am much bound to him. Did you ever see the horse he gave me?”
Jailer: “Yes.”
Daughter: “How did you like him?”
Jailer: “He’s a very fair one.”
Daughter: “Did you ever see him dance?”
Jailer: “No.”
Daughter: “I have, often. He dances very finely, and for a jig, he turns like a top. He’ll dance the Morris twenty miles an hour and he gallops to the tune of ‘Light of Love’. What think you of this horse?”
Jailers: “Having these virtues I think he might be brought to play tennis.”
Daughter: “Alas, that’s nothing.”
Jailer: “Can he read and write too?”
Daughter: “A very fair hand, and casts himself the accounts of all his hay and corn. Do you know the chestnut mare the duke has?”
Jailer: “Very well.”
Daughter: “She is horribly in love with him, poor beast, but he is coy and scornful.”
Jailer: “What dowry has she?”
Daughter: “Some two-hundred bushel of oats, but he’ll never have her. He’ll be the death of her.”
Doctor: “What stuff she utters!”
Jailer: “Make curtsy; here your love comes.”
Wooer: “Pretty soul, how do you?” (she curtsies)
Daughter: “Yours to command in the way of honesty. How far is it now to the end of the world, my masters?”
Doctor: “Why, a day’s journey, wench.”
Daughter: “Will you go with me?”
Wooer: “I am content, if we should keep our wedding there.”
Daughter; “Tis true, for there we shall find some blind priest for the purpose that will venture to marry us, for here they are nice and foolish. Besides, my father must be hanged tomorrow. Are you not Palamon?”
Wooer: “Do not you know me?”
Daughter: “Yes, but you care not for me.”
Wooer: “I will have you.”
Daughter: “Will you surely?”
Wooer: “Yes, by this fair hand, will I.”
Daughter: “We’ll to be then.”
Wooer: “Even when you will.” (he kisses her)
Daughter: “Is not this your cousin Arcite?”
Doctor: “Yes, sweetheart, and I am glad my cousin Palamon has made so fair a choice.”
Daughter: “Do you think he’ll have me?”
Doctor: “Yes, without doubt.”
Daughter: “We shall have many children.”
Enter a messenger
Messenger: “What do you here? You’ll lose the noblest sight that ever was seen.”
Jailer: “Are they in the field?”
Messenger: “They are.”
Jailer: “I’ll straight away.” (to doctor) “How did you like her?”
Doctor: “I’ll warrant you, within these three or four days I’ll make her right again. (to The Wooer) You mustn’t from her, but still preserve her in this way.”
Wooer: “I will.” (to daughter) “Come, sweet, we’ll go to dinner, and then we’ll play at cards.”
Daughter: “And shall we kiss too?”
Wooer: “A hundred times.”
Daughter: “And then we’ll sleep together.”
Wooer: “Yes, marry, we will.”
Daughter: “But you shall not hurt me.”
Wooer: “I will not, sweet.”
Daughter: “If you do, love, I’ll cry.”
Summary and Analysis
The wooer, dressed as Palamon, informs the doctor that the daughter has begun to accept him as Palamon and that her spirits have risen considerably. The doctor instructs the wooer to satisfy her every need, including sleeping with her and when her father protests the doctor insists that her sanity is more important than her ‘honesty’. The jailer speaks to his daughter but she does not recognize him and they discuss the horse that Palamon has give her. She claims the horse can dance, read and write and play tennis. When the daughter encounters the wooer and believes him to be Palamon, they banter affectionately and discuss their forthcoming wedding and plans to sleep together. A messenger arrives to inform the jailer that the two cousins are about to commence their fighting contest. The doctor seems convinced that the daughter is coming along very well, but we must wonder, as she does not recognize her own father and easily accepts the wooer as Palamon, all the while singing the praises of the dancing horse, who also reads, writes and plays tennis.
Act V
Scene iii
In the forest
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia and Pirithous
Emilia: “I’ll not step further. Every blow that falls threatens a brave life. I will stay here. It is enough that my hearing shall be punished with what shall happen – not taint my eye with dread sights it may shun.”
Pirithous: “Sir, my good lord, your sister will no further.”
Theseus: “O, she must. She shall see deeds of honour.” (to Emilia) “You must be present. You are the victor’s mead, the prize and garland to crown the question’s title.”
Hippolyta: “You must go.”
Emilia: “In faith, I will not.”
Theseus: “Why, the knights must kindle their valour at your eye. Know, of this war you are the treasure.”
Emilia: “Sir, pardon me. The title of a kingdom may be tried out of itself.”
Theseus: “Well then; at your pleasure.”
Hippolyta: “Farewell sister.”
Exit Theseus, Hippolyta and Pirithous
Emilia: “Arcite is gently visaged, yet his eye is like a sharp weapon in a soft sheath; mercy and manly courage are bedfellows in his visage. Palamon has a most menacing aspect. 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. The darker humours that stick misbecomingly on others, on him live in fair dwelling. Arcite may win me and yet may Palamon wound Arcite to the spoiling of his figure. O, what pity enough for such a chance. It is much better I am not there. O, better never born then minister such harm.”
Cornets and a great cry. Enter a servant
Emilia: “What is the chance?”
Servant: “The cry is ‘Palamon!'”
Emilia: “Then he has won. Twas ever likely. He looked all grace and success and he is doubtless the most excellent of men. I prithee run and tell me how it goes.”
Servant disappears and then re-enters
Servant: “They say that Palamon had Arcite’s body within an inch of the pyramid and that the cry was general for Palamon, but anon, the two bold titles at this instant are hand to hand at it.”
Emilia: “Were they metamorphosed both into one? There were no woman worth so composed a man.”
More cornets and cries
Emilia: “Palamon still?”
Servant: “Nay, now the sound is ‘Arcite’. The cry is ‘Arcite’ and ‘Victory!’ The combat’s consummation is proclaimed.”
Emilia: “I did think good Palamon would miscarry, yet I knew not why I did think so. Our reasons are not prophets when often our fancies are. They are coming off. Alas, poor Palamon!”
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous and Arcite as victor
Theseus: “Fairest Emilia, the gods by their arbitrament have given you this knight. He is a good one. Give me your hands. Receive you her, you him.”
Arcite: “Emilia, to buy you I have lost what’s dearest to me, and yet I purchase cheaply, as I do rate your value.”
Theseus: “O loved sister, he speaks now of as brave a knight as ever did spur a noble steed. Wear the garland with joy that you have won. For the subdued, give him our present justice, since I know his life but pinches him now. Let it here be done. The scene is not for our seeing; go we hence right joyful, with some sorrow. Arm your prize; I know you will not lose her.”
Emilia: “Is this winning? O you heavenly powers, where is your mercy? Charge me live to comfort this unfriended, this miserable prince, who cuts away a life more worthy from him then all women; I should and would die too.”
Hippolyta: “Infinite pity that four such eyes should be so fixed on one that two must needs be blinded for it.”
Theseus: “So it is.”
Summary and Analysis
As the noble court approach the battlefield, Emilia refuses to watch the fight between the two cousins. They try to convince her to attend, as the prize they fight over is her, but she will not budge and remains behind to merely hear the cries of the assembled crowd, which she claims will be hard enough to bear. Alone, Emilia inconclusively considers both suitors, just as she did in Act IV when attempting to chose one to love over the other. We must wonder, as she continues to struggle over her preference, if this might be because she really disdains the very idea of marriage to a man at all or if it is because her choice will certainly condemn the other to his agreed upon death. She is incapable of distinguishing between the victory of one and the tragedy of the other. At first the crowds crying Palamon’s name suggests the fate of Arcite but then she hears Arcite’s name proclaimed and sure enough he comes forward as the victor. Theseus presents Arcite to Emilia as her victorious knight, but she questions the gods about whether or not this is a victory at all in the absence of mercy over the love these kinsmen lost for each other because of Emilia. Hippolyta speaks of the infinite pity that four such eyes, those of the Two Noble Kinsmen, should so be fixed on one that two must be blinded for it. With a single scene remaining, both of our plots of the poor jailer’s made-mad daughter and the anguish of Emilia over the death of Palamon require considerable resolution before the play’s status as a comedy can be justified. And yet, isn’t this precisely what Shakespeare does best?
Act V
Scene iv
In the forest
Enter Palamon and his condemned knights, jailer, executioner and guard
Palamon: “There are many men alive who have outlived the love of the people. We prevent the loathsome misery of age and beguile the gout and rheum that in lag hours attend. We come to the gods young and fresh, which shall surely please them.”
1 Knight: “What ending could be of more content? Over us the victors have fortune, whose title is as momentary as to us death is certain. A grain of honour they not overweigh us.”
2 Knight: “Let us bid farewell and with our patience anger tottering fortune, who at her certain’st reels.”
Palamon: “Aha, my friend, your gentle daughter gave me freedom once. You’ll see it done now forever. Pray, how does she? I heard she was not well.”
Jailer: “Sir, she’s well restored and to be married shortly.”
Palamon: “I am most glad of it; tis the latest thing I shall be glad of – prithee tell her so. Commend me to her, and to piece her portion tender her this.” (gives purse)
1 Knight: “Nay, let’s be offerers all.”
All Knights: “Commend us to her.” (they give their purses)
Jailer: “The gods requite you and make her thankful.”
Palamon: “Adeiu.” (lies on the block)
1 Knight: “Lead, courageous cousin.”
2 & 3 Knights: “We’ll follow cheerfully.”
A great noise within
Enter in haste a messenger
Messenger: “Save! Hold! Hold, O Hold, hold, hold!”
Pirithous: “Hold ho! Noble Palamon, the gods will show their glory in a life thou are yet to lead.”
Palamon: “Can that be? How do things fare?”
Pirithous: “Arise, great sir, and give the tidings ear which are most dearly sweet and bitter.”
Palamon: “What has awaken us from our dreams?”
Pirithous: “Your cousin, mounted on a steed that Emily did first bestow on him. On this horse is Arcite trotting upon the stones of Athens and as he thus went a counting the flinty pavement, with fire malevolent, darted a spark, and the hot horse, hot as fire, fell to what disorder his power could give his will – bounds, whines and seeks all foul means to disseat his lord. Backward the jade comes over, and his full poise becomes the rider’s load. Yet he is living, but such a vessel tis that floats but for the surge that next approaches. He much desires to have some speech with you.”
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Emilia and Arcite in a chair
Palamon: “O, miserable end of our alliance! The gods are mighty. Arcite, give me thy last words. I am Palamon, one who yet loves thee dying.”
Arcite: “Take Emilia and with her all the world’s joy. Reach thy hand – farewell; I have told my last hour. I was falsest, never treacherous. Forgive me, cousin. Tis done. Take her; I die.”
Emilia: “I’ll close thine eyes, prince. Blessed souls be with thee. Thou were a right and good man.”
Theseus: “Acknowledge to the gods your thanks that you are living. His part is played and, though it were too short, he did it well. Your day is lengthened. The powerful Venus well has graced her altar and given you her love.”
Palamon: “O cousin, that we should things desire, which do cost us the loss of our desire! That naught could buy dear love but loss of dear love!
Arcite is carried out
Theseus: “Never fortune did play a subtler game: the conquered triumphs; the victor has the loss. Palamon, your kinsman has confessed the right of the lady did lie in you. He restored her as your stolen jewel and desired your spirit to send him hence forgiven. Lead your lady off. A day or two let us look sadly and give grace unto the funeral of Arcite, in whose end the visages of bridegrooms we’ll put on and smile with Palamon, for whom but an hour since, I was as dearly sorry as glad of Arcite and am now as glad as for him sorry. O you heavenly charmers, what things you make of us! For what we lack we laugh, for what we have are sorry. Let us be thankful for that which is, and with you leave dispute that is above our question. Let’s go off and bear us like the time.”
Summary and Analysis
Palamon and his knights are escorted to his death by the jailer, an executioner and a guard. The cousin accepts his fate and even finds relief in never having to grow old. He will face the gods young and vigorous. His knights similarly agree that they have defended their honour, despite the outcome of the struggle. They are prepared to die courageously. Palamon learns from the jailer that his daughter has fully recovered and is set to marry. Palamon and his knights bestow their purses upon her as a tribute to her goodness in initially freeing Palamon from prison. Then just as Palamon positions himself on the chopping block Pirithous rushes in with news that Arcite has fallen from his horse and is merely clinging to life. This of course changes everything. Arcite was preparing to marry Emilia and Palamon was condemned to death. Now in an instant the gods have seemingly reversed their fortunes, as Arcite suddenly lies dying and Palamon’s life is being spared. Furthermore, Arcite asks to speak with his cousin before he dies and the two kinsmen reconcile their love for one another and Arcite apologises for pursuing Emilia and gives his blessing that Palamon and Emilia should wed. Curiously to modern audiences, nobody seems to run this proposal by Emilia. Arcite simply says ‘Take Emilia’. She kisses Arcite one last time and ’tis done’. He is dead. In the plays final passages Theseus reflects on the wonders of the gods, as they have answered the prayers of both cousins and Emilia. Mars has allowed Arcite to win the battle between the two cousins, as was his plea. Venus has honoured Palamon’s request to be triumphant in love and Diana has answered the wish of Emilia that she marry the man who truly loved her most, which is Palamon, who asked for love. This accidental death has also relieved Theseus of the burden of putting either of the cousins to death. The gods are indeed powerful and mysterious and Theseus concludes by declaring that we mere humans must be grateful for what we have and make the most from what we have been given. Amen to that.
Epilogue
Delivered by a boy, presumably the boy actor for Emilia or the Jailer’s daughter
Epilogue: “I would now ask ye how ye liked the play, but as it is with school boys, I cannot say. I am cruel fearful. Pray yet stay a while, and let me look upon ye. No man smile? Then it goes hard, I see. He who has loved a young and handsome wench, then show his face. Tis strange if none be here. Tis in vain, I see, to stay ye. Now what say ye? And yet mistake me not – I am not bold. If the tale we have told – for tis no other – any way content ye (for to that honest purpose it was meant ye) we have our end. We and all our might rest at your service. Gentlemen, good night.”
Summary and Analysis
Epilogue, in the person of a young boy, arrives on the stage and addresses the audience, attempting to determine if the troupe has been successful in honouring Chaucer’s memory. There is a light heartedness to the tone, perhaps to compensate for the death of Arcite, an unusual occurrence in a comedy.
Final Thoughts
Friendship was somewhat of a common theme in Shakespeare’s plays. One imagines Prince Hal and Falstaff (Henry IV), Antonio and Bassanio (The Merchant of Venice), Hamlet and Horatio (Hamlet) and Julius Caesar and Brutus (Julius Caesar). There are always challenges to be endured and Arcite and Palamon are no exception. But woe to any friendship when the love of a woman divides the relationship and this is the specific fate that our two gentlemen must navigate. One glance from a prison window and the divisive plot is off and running at great peril to the intimate cousins. In a matter of minutes they are willing to kill each other over Emilia, who does not even know they exist, even though their love for each other is genuine and profound. The intoxicating and mysteriously destructive nature of romantic love has senseless and disintegrating consequences on the stable and loyal lifelong dedicated love between these honourable men.
William Shakespeare and John Fletcher wrote this play based on the medeival Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer and its depiction of bravery and a sense of commitment to duty. So once they lose their love for one another to this chivalric devotion to Emilia, there is no turning back permitted. It becomes a matter of honour and their stubborn adherence to this chivalric code seals their fate. All they can do is appeal to the gods, and this they do. The heavens answer all of the prayers and what was otherwise a senseless, incomprehensible and random ending is mysteriously transformed into a reasonable and virtuous good fortune of divine providence. Nothing is left to chance.
The Jailer’s daughter helps her father run the prison where Arcite and Palamon reside until Theseus frees Arcite and the daughter falls hopelessly in love with Palamon and helps him to escape. When it becomes clear that he has run off rather than planning to meet up with the daughter, she descends into madness. Love strikes again. However, it will not be the gods who restore her health this time, but a doctor who convinces her long time wooer to impersonate Palamon, which helps her to heal and plan her marriage to a man she believes to be Palamon. After all, love is blind.
It is believed that Shakespeare co-wrote this, his final literary work, with John Fletcher, before retiring for good back home, full circle, to his native Stratford upon Avon. The Two Noble Kinsmen is an admirable swan song, generously sprinkled with the wonderful language of the Bard and the theatrical extravagance of the well known Mr Fletcher. They also collaborated on Henry VIII, Shakespeare’s second to last play. The plot of The Two Noble Kinsmen is well presented with excellent twists and turns and the characters are superbly developed. It is thematically rich and linguistically diverse, with sufficient examples of a great number of excellent literary devices.
The Two Noble Kinsmen has only recently been acknowledged far and wide as a legitimate addition to the Shakespearean Canon and is finally being staged for audiences to encounter its many entertaining virtues. For hundreds of years it has been exclusively gleamed from its pages and not stages. Proof that this is finally being corrected may be found on Youtube, where an admirable 2014 production by the Victoria University of Wellington is available for viewing, along with a most excellent 2015 Shakespeare in the Park creation from Camp Long in Seattle.
William Shakespeare: Journey Through Genius 