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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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    1455Scaena 2. Enter Iaylors daughter alone.
    Daugh. He has mistooke; the Beake I meant, is gone
    After his fancy, Tis now welnigh morning,
    No matter, would it were perpetuall night,
    And darkenes Lord o'th world, Harke tis a woolfe:
    1460In me hath greife slaine feare, and but for one thing
    I care for nothing, and that's Palamon.
    I wreake not if the wolves would jaw me, so
    He had this File; what if I hallowd for him?
    I cannot hallow: if I whoop'd; what then?
    1465If he not answeard, I should call a wolfe,
    And doe him but that service. I have heard
    Strange howles this live-long night, why may't not be
    They have made prey of him? he has no weapons,
    He cannot run, the Iengling of his Gives
    1470Might call fell things to listen, who have in them
    A sence to know a man unarmd, and can
    Smell where resistance is. Ile set it downe
    He's torne to peeces, they howld many together
    And then they feed on him: So much for that,
    1475Be bold to ring the Bell; how stand I then?
    All's char'd when he is gone, No, no I lye,
    My Father's to be hang'd for his escape,
    My selfe to beg, if I prizd life so much
    As to deny my act, but that I would not,
    The Two Noble Kinsmen.
    1480Should I try death by dussons: I am mop't,
    Food tooke I none these two daies.
    Sipt some water. I have not closd mine eyes
    Save when my lids scowrd off their bine; alas
    Dissolue my life, Let not my sence unsettle
    1485Least I should drowne, or stab, or hang my selfe.
    O state of Nature, faile together in me,
    Since thy best props are warpt: So which way now?
    The best way is, the next way to a grave:
    Each errant step beside is torment. Loe
    1490The Moone is down, the Cryckets chirpe, the Schreichowle
    Calls in the dawne; all offices are done
    Save what I faile in: But the point is this
    An end, and that is all. Exit.