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  • Title: Two Noble Kinsmen (Quarto, 1634)

    • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Two Noble Kinsmen (Quarto, 1634)

    The Two Noble Kinsmen.
    Arc. This is an offerd oportunity
    1140I durst not wish for. Well, I could have wrestled,
    The best men calld it excellent, and run
    Swifter, then winde upon a feild of Corne
    (Curling the wealthy eares) never flew: Ile venture,
    And in some poore disguize be there, who knowes
    1145Whether my browes may not be girt with garlands?
    And happines preferre me to a place,
    Where I may ever dwell in sight of her. Exit Arcite,
    Scaena 4. Enter Iailors Daughter alone.
    Daugh. Why should I love this Gentleman? Tis odds
    1150He never will affect me; I am base,
    My Father the meane Keeper of his Prison,
    And he a prince; To marry him is hopelesse;
    To be his whore, is witles; Out upon't;
    What pushes are we wenches driven to
    1155When fifteene once has found us? First I saw him,
    I (seeing) thought he was a goodly man;
    He has as much to please a woman in him,
    (If he please to bestow it so) as ever
    These eyes yet lookt on; Next, I pittied him,
    1160And so would any young wench o' my Conscience
    That ever dream'd, or vow'd her Maydenhead
    To a yong hansom Man; Then I lov'd him,
    (Extreamely lov'd him) infinitely lov'd him;
    And yet he had a Cosen, faire as he too.
    1165But in my heart was Palamon, and there
    Lord, what a coyle he keepes? To heare him
    Sing in an evening, what a heaven it is?
    And yet his Songs are sad-ones; Fairer spoken,
    Was never Gentleman. When I come in
    1170To bring him water in a morning, first
    He bowes his noble body, then salutes me, thus:
    Faire, gentle Mayde, good morrow, may thy goodnes,
    Get thee a happy husband; Once he kist me,
    I lov'd my lips the better ten daies after,
    1175Would he would doe so ev'ry day; He greives much,
    And me as much to see his misery.
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