THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN Mr. John Fletcher, Gent., and Mr. William Shakspeare, Gent. A NOTE ON THE TEXT: The text of this Project Gutenberg edition is taken from C. F. Tucker Brooke’s 1908 edition of THE SHAKESPEARE APOCRYPHA. Italics have been silently removed in most places, as for proper names, and replaced with ALL CAPS or bracketed text where appropriate. THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN: Presented at the Blackfriers by the Kings Maiesties servants, with great applause: Written by the memorable Worthies of their time; Mr. John Fletcher, Gent., and Mr. William Shakspeare, Gent. Printed at London by Tho. Cotes, for John Waterson: and are to be sold at the signe of the Crowne in Pauls Church-yard. 1634. (The Persons represented in the Play. Hymen, Theseus, Hippolita, Bride to Theseus Emelia, Sister to Theseus [Emelia’s Woman], Nymphs, Three Queens, Three valiant Knights, Palamon, and Arcite, The two Noble Kinsmen, in love with fair Emelia [Valerius], Perithous, [A Herald], [A Gentleman], [A Messenger], [A Servant], [Wooer], [Keeper], Jaylor, His Daughter, in love with Palamon [His brother], [A Doctor], [4] Countreymen, [2 Friends of the Jaylor], [3 Knights], [Nel, and other] Wenches, A Taborer, Gerrold, A Schoolmaster.) PROLOGVE. [Florish.] New Playes, and Maydenheads, are neare a kin, Much follow’d both, for both much mony g’yn, If they stand sound, and well: And a good Play (Whose modest Sceanes blush on his marriage day, And shake to loose his honour) is like hir That after holy Tye and first nights stir Yet still is Modestie, and still retaines More of the maid to sight, than Husbands paines; We pray our Play may be so; For I am sure It has a noble Breeder, and a pure, A learned, and a Poet never went More famous yet twixt Po and silver Trent: Chaucer (of all admir’d) the Story gives, There constant to Eternity it lives. If we let fall the Noblenesse of this, And the first sound this child heare, be a hisse, How will it shake the bones of that good man, And make him cry from under ground, ‘O fan From me the witles chaffe of such a wrighter That blastes my Bayes, and my fam’d workes makes lighter Then Robin Hood!’ This is the feare we bring; For to say Truth, it were an endlesse thing, And too ambitious, to aspire to him, Weake as we are, and almost breathlesse swim In this deepe water. Do but you hold out Your helping hands, and we shall take about, And something doe to save us: You shall heare Sceanes, though below his Art, may yet appeare Worth two houres travell. To his bones sweet sleepe: Content to you. If this play doe not keepe A little dull time from us, we perceave Our losses fall so thicke, we must needs leave. [Florish.] Actus Primus. Scaena 1. (Athens. Before a temple.)