A supplement to the plays of William Shakespeare: comprising the seven dramas, which have been ascribed to his pen, but ahich are not included with his writings in modern editions ...

Front matter

.C77 1847 Suppl .

Copy 1 fXl

SUPPLEMENT TO THE PLAYS

Introduction

nearly a blank in regard to the claims of both dramatists. It may be Shakspeare's, or it may be Fletcher's. The claim of the latter, from intrinsic evidence, seems to me the better founded. On the same evidence, could we rely upon it solely — were it not, indeed, the most uncertain and most illusory of all modes of determining authorship — we should say that Shakspeare never wrote a syllable of the piece before us, though much of it is directly imitated from Shakspeare. Yet we must express ourselves with becoming deference. Mr. Pope supposes that the hand of Shakspeare may be discerned in some of the scenes. Dr. Warburton believes that he " wrote the first act, but in his worst manner." Mr. Coleridge says boldly, though, as he was wont to say many things, adventurously : " I can scarcely retain a doubt as to the first act's having been written by Shakspeare." Charles Lamb speaks of some of the scenes as giving " strong countenance to the tradition that Shakspeare had a hand in this play They have a luxuriance in them which strongly resembles Shakspeare's manner, in those parts of his plays where, the progress of the scene being subordinate, the poet was at leisure for description." The German critics, who claim to know more about Shakspeare than the English, and who certainly have shown a just sympathy with his genius, by their fine and instinctive appreciation of it, concur in this opinion ; but their speculations, as well as those which we have quoted, are wholly conjectural, and based upon assumptions, few of which will bear the test of a close examination.

As we have seen, we have not a tittle of external evidence available at the present moment, which can furnish any sufficient clues to the mystery. A glance at the internal proofs satisfies us that the Two Noble Kinsmen — a noble play, worthy of Fletcher, Chapman, or Ben Jonson— is yet not Shakspeare's. It does not show, to us at least, any satisfactory marks of his footstep. Ex pede Herculem. The versification is not his. In spite of what Mr. Lamb has said on this subject, it lacks his flow and vivacity. The great marks of Shakspeare are his equal profundity and lucidity. He rises always with a wing from his subject, however low that may be, as we see birds skim along the surface of the ground, just above and without touching it. His most difficult thoughts, ordinarily, are those which flow most musically ; and the more comprehensive the range of his passions and ideas, they seem to choose for themselves an utterance of special clearness in due degree with the natural obstacles of the conception. Now, let the reader examine the metaphysical verse of the Two Noble Kinsmen, and he will see what embarrassments occur to the utterance of the writer in proportion to the subtlety of the sentiment. The nearest approach which he makes to Shakspeare's acknowledged writings, is to portions of such plays as Troilus and Cressida, of which the piece before us seems partly an imitation. Nor are these difficulties of utterance, when profound thoughts are to be expressed, calling for a new phraseology, to be accounted for by supposing that this was a production of our great dramatist in his youth. The Two Noble Kinsmen is not the work of an apprentice. It shows the familiarity of a master with his tools — one who would have done greatly better, had he trusted to himself wholly, avoiding anything like imitation. His versification, if not that of Shakspeare, has force, readiness, compactness and animation. It is distinct and manly, if wanting something in freedom ; and the sentiment is declared with confidence and promptness, as the voice of one who has been long accustomed to speak. Were there less promptness, less skill and spirit, we might better be prepared to admit Shakspeare's agency in the piece at a time when he had not yet learned the extent and strength of his own resources. It is too confident a performance for the inexperienced writer, and too wanting in the higher freedoms of music and imagination, for Shakspeare, in the day of his mature manhood. It is very certain that Shakspeare never conceived the clumsy copy of his Ophelia which appears in this performance. Is it probable that he would have participated in the composition of a play in which his associate should presume upon such a gross caricature ?

TWO MC5B1LB

THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Theseus, Duke of Athens.

Palamon, ) The Two Noble Kinsmen, in love with

Arcite, ) Emilia.

Perithous, an Athenian general.

Valerius, a Theban nobleman.

Six valiant knights.

Herald.

Gaoler.

Wooer to the Gaoler's Daughter.

Brothers,

Friends,

Gerrold, a schoolmaster.

to the Gaoler.

Hifpolyta, bride to Theseus.

Emilia, her sister.

Three Queens.

Gaoler's Daughter, in love with Palamon.

Servant to Emilia.

A Taborer, Countrymen, Soldiers, Nymphs, fyc.

SCENE, — Athens ; and in part of tlie First Act, Thebes.

Scene I

Enter Hymen, with a torch burning ; a Boy, in a white robe, before, singing, and strewing flowers ; after Hymen, a Nymph, encompassed in her tresses, bearing a wheaten garland ; then Theseus, between two other Nymphs, with wheaten chaplets on their heads ; then Hippolyta, the bride, led by Perithous, and another holding a garland over her head, her t7-esses likewise hanging ; after her, Emilia, holding up her train. 1

SONG.

Roses, their sharp spines being gone. Not royal in their smells alone r

But in their hue ; Maiden-pinks, of odor faint, Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint, And sweet thyme true.

Primrose, first-born child of Ver, Merry, spring-time's harbinger, With her bells 2 dim ;

l This is the original sta<*e-direction ; with the exception that Hippolyta, by a manifest error in the old copies, is led by Theseus. 8 Query : Harebells 1

All, dear Nature's children sweet, Lie 'fore bride and bridegroom's feet,

Blessing their sense ! [Strew flowers.

Not an angel of the air, 3 Bird melodious, or bird fair,

Be 4 absent hence.

Nor chatt'ring pie, May on our bridehouse perch or sing, Or with them any discord bring,

But from it fly !

Enter three Queens, in black, with veils stained, with imperial crowns. The first Queen falls down at the foot of Theseus ; the second falls down at the foot of Hippolyta ; the third before Emilia.

1 Queen. For pity's sake, and true gentility, Hear and respect me !

2 Queen. For your mother's sake,

And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair Hear and respect me ! [ones,

3 Queen. Now for the love of him whom Jove

hath marked The honor of your bed, and for the sake Of clear virginity, be advocate For us, and our distresses ! This good deed Shall raze you out o' the book of trespasses All you are set down there.

Thes. Sad lady, rise !

Hip. Stand up !

Emi. No knees to me !

What woman I may stead that is distressed, Does bind me to her.

Thes What's your request ? Deliver you for all.

1 Queen We are three queens, whose sovereigns fell before The wrath of cruel Creon ; who endured The beaks of ravens, talons of the kites, And pecks of crows, in the foul fields of Thebes. He will not suffer us to burn their bones, To urn their ashes, nor to take th' offence Of mortal loathsomeness from the blessed eye Of holy Phcebus, but infects the winds

3 Angel is used for bird. Dekker calls the Roman eagle "the Roman angfl." — Gifford's Massinger, vol. i., p. 36.

4 Be. The early copies, is.

5 Clough he is the reading of the old editions.

THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN.

With slench of our slain lords. Oh, pity, duke ! Thou purger of the earth, draw thy feared sword, That does good turns to the world ; give us the bones Of our dead kings, that we may chapel them ! And, of thy boundless goodness, take some note, That,for our crowned heads, we have no roof Save this, which is the lion's and the bear's, And vault to everything !

Thes. Pray you kneel not !

I was transported with your speech, and suffered Your knees to wrong themselves. I have heard the

fortunes Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting As wakes my vengeance and revenge for them. King Capaneus was your lord : the day That he should marry you, at such a season As now it is with me, I met your groom By Mars's altar ; you were that time fair, Not Juno's mantle fairer than your tresses, Nor in more bounty spread ;• your wheaten wreath Was then nor thrashed, nor blasted. Fortune at you Dimpled her cheek with smiles. Her'cles, our kinsman, (Then weaker than your eyes) laid by his club ; He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide, And swore his sinews thawed. Oh, grief and time, Fearful consumers, ye will all devour !

1 Queen. Oh, I hope some god,

Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood, Whereto he '11 infuse power, and press you forth Our undertaker !

Thes. Oh, no knees ; none, widow !

Unto the helmeted Bellona use them, And pray for me, your soldier. — Troubled I am.

[Turns away.

2 Queen. Honored Hippolyta,

Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slain

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

As it is white, wast near to make the male [strong

To thy sex captive ; but that this thy lord

(Born to uphold creation in that honor

First nature styled 2 it in) shrunk thee into

The bound thou wast o'erflowing ; at once subduing

Thy force and thy affection ; — soldieress,

That equally canst poise sternness with pity,

Who now, I know, hast much more power on him

Than ever he had on thee ; who own'st his strength,

And his love too, who is a servant 3 for

The tenor of thy speech ; dear glass of ladies,

Bid him, that we, whom flaming war doth scorch,

Under the shadow of his sword may cool us !

Require him he advance it o'er our heads ;

Speak 't in a woman's key, like such a woman

As any of us three ; weep ere you fail ;

Lend us a knee ;

But touch the ground for us no longer time

Than a dove's motion, when the head's plucked off!

Tell him, if he in the blood-sized 4 field lay swoll'n,

1 " Nor in more bounty spread her," is the old rending. The omission equally helps the sense and the measure.

2 I should prefer to read " stoled it in," that is, dressed or habited in, — meaning the masculine dignity with which man was endowed, as superior, at the creation, and with which, though an Amazon, the queen of Theseus must not conflict.

3 Servant, attendant, one who even now waits to hear what you have to say.

-» Blood stained. Size or sizing, is a glutinous ground employed by painters.

Showing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon, What you would do !

Hip. Poor lady, say no more !

I had as lief trace this good action with you As that whereto I'm going, and never yet Went I so willing way. 5 My lord is taken, Heart deep with your distress. Let him consider ; I'll speak anon.

3 Queen. Oh, my petition was

[Kneels to Emilia.

Set down in ice, which by hot grief uncandied Melts into drops ; so sorrow wanting form Is pressed with deeper matter.

Emi. Pray stand up ;

Your grief is written in your cheek.

3 Queen. Oh, woe !

You cannot read it there ; here, through my tears, Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream, You may behold them ! Lady, lady, alack, He that will all the treasure know o' the earth, Must know the centre too. He that will fish For my least minnow, let him lead his line To catch one at my heart. Oh, pardon me ! Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits, Makes me a fool.

Emi. Pray you, say nothing ; pray you !

Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in't, Knows neither wet nor dry. If that you were The ground-piece of some painter, I would buy you, To instruct me 'gainst a capital grief indeed ; Such heart-pierced demonstration ! — but, alas, Being a natural sister of our sex, Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me, That it shall make a counter-reflect 'gainst My brother's heart, and warm it to some pity Though it were made of stone ; pray have good comfort !

Thes. Forward to the temple ! leave not out a jot Of the sacred ceremony.

1 Queen. Oh, this celebration Will longer last, and be more costly, than

Your suppliants' war ! Remember that your fame Knolls in the ear o' the world. What you do quickly Is not done rashly ; your first thought is more Than others' labored meditance ; your premeditating More than their actions :but, (oh Jove !) your actions, Soon as they move, as ospreys do the fish, 5 Subdue before they touch. 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.

Those that with cords, knives', drams, 6 precipitance, 7 Weary of this world's light, have to themselves Been death's most horrid agents ; — human grace Affords them dust and shadow.

1 Queen. But our lords

Lie blistering 'fore the visitating 9 sun, And were good kings, when living.

Thes. It is true : and 1 will give you comfort, To give your dead lords graves. The which to do, Must make some work with Creon. [doing:

1 Queen. And that work now presents itself to the

6 Query : willingly ? 6 Osprey, or ospring. the sea-eagle.

7 Dram, in the sense of drug ; suicide, by poison.

8 This is usually printed —

" Those that with cords, knives, drams, precipitance." We receive " cords," &c, as genitive cases to "precipitance."

9 Query : vegetating 1

ACT I.— SCENE II.

Now 't will take form. The heats are gone to-mor- Then bootless toil must recompense itself [row ; With its own sweat. Now, he's secure, Nor dreams we stand before your puissance, Rinsing /our holy begging in our eyes, To make petition clear.

2 Queen. Now you may take him, Drunk with his victory. 1

3 Queen. And his army full Of bread and sloth. 1

Thes. Artesius, that best know'st

How to draw out, fit to this enterprise The prim'st for this proceeding, and the number To carry such a business ; forth and levy Our worthiest instruments, whilst we despatch This grand act of our life, this daring deed Of fate in wedlock !

1 Queen. Dowagers, take hands !

Let us be widows to our woes ! Delay Commends us to a famishing hope.

All. Farewell !

2 Queen. We come unseasonably ; but when could

grief Cull forth, as unpanged judgment can, fitt'st time For best solicitation ?

Thes. Why, good ladies,

This is a service whereto I am going, Greater than any war ; 2 it 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, Able to lock Jove from a synod, shall By warranting moonlight corslet thee. Oh, when Her twinning 3 cherries shall their sweetness fall 4 Upon thy tasteful lips, what wilt thou think Of rotten kings, or blubbered 5 queens ? what care For what thou feel'st not, — what thou feel'st being

able To make Mars spurn his drum ? Oh, if thou couch But one night with her, every hour in't will Take hostage of thee for a hundred, and Thou shalt remember nothing more than what That banquet bids thee to.

Hip. Though much I like^

You should be so transported, as much sorry I should be such a suitor ; yet I think Did I not, by the abstaining of my joy, Which breeds a deeper longing, cure their surfeit, That craves a present medicine, I should pluck All ladies' scandal on me : therefore, sir, As I shall here make trial of my prayers, Either presuming them to have some force, Or seeing 7 for aye their vigor dumb, prorogue

1 See the speech in Hamlet, where Hamlet, forbearing to elay the king at his prayers, proposes to take him " when he is drunk," &c, as his father had been taken " when full of bread," &c.

* War. The early copies, was.

3 Other copies read twining. Twinned, is the proper word.

* Fall — an active verb. 6 Weeping.

t> In former editions, " Though much unlike," &c. She addresses Theseus, and means to say, though it pleases her, his passion, and though it makes her sorry to have such a painful visit to him, yet she is compelled to join with the suitors, even to the delay of her own happiness. As it formerly read, the sense was wanting.

This business we are going about, and hang Your shield afore your heart, about that neck Which is my fee, and which I freely lend To do these poor queens service !

All Queens. Oh, help now J

Our cause cries for your knee. [To Emilia.

Emi. If you grant not

My sister her petition, in that force, With that celerity and nature, which She makes it in, from henceforth I'll not dare To ask you anything, nor be so hardy Ever to take a husband.

Thes. Pray stand up J

I am entreating of myself to do That which you kneel to have me. Perithous, Lead on the bride ! Get you and pray the gods For success and return ; omit not anything In the pretended celebration. Queens, Follow your soldier, as before. Hence you, And at the banks of Aulis meet us with The forces you can raise, where we shall find The moiety of a number, for a business More bigger looked ! — Since that our theme is haste, I stamp this kiss upon thy currant lip. Sweet, keep it as my token ! Set you forward ; For I will see you gone.

[Exeunt toward the Temple, Farewell, my beauteous sister ! Perithous, Keep the feast full ; bate not an hour on 't !

Per. Sir,

I'll follow you at heels ; the feast's solemnity Shall want 8 till your return.

Thes. Cousin, I charge you

Budge not from Athens ; we shall be returning Ere you can end this feast, of which I pray you, Make no abatement. Once more, farewell all.

1 Queen. Thus dost thou still make good the tongue

o' the world.

2 Queen. And earn'st a deity equal with Mars.

3 Queen. If not above him ; for,

Thou, being but mortal, mak'st affections bend To godlike honors ; they themselves, some say, Groan under such a mastery.

Thes. As we are men,

Thus should we do ; being sensually subdued, We lose our humane title. Good cheer, ladies !

[Flourish.

Now turn we toward your comforts. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Enter Paiamon and Akcite

Arc. Dear Paiamon, 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't, before we further Sully our gloss of youth !

And here to keep in abstinence were 9 shame As in incontinence : for not to swim In the aid of the current, were almost to sink ; At least to frustrate striving ; and to follow The common stream, 'twould bring us to an eddy Where we should turn or drown ; if labored 10 through, Our gain but life and weakness.

ies

1 " Sentencing for aye," is the language of former cop-

8 Query: wait?

9 " We shame," in former copies.

10 "Labor through," is the old reading.

THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN.

Pal. Your advice

Is cried up with examples. What strange ruins, Since first we went to school, may we perceive Walking in Thebes ! Scars, and bare weeds, The gain o' the martialist, who did propound To his bold ends, honor and golden ingots, Which, though he won, he had not ; and now flurted 1 By peace, for whom he fought, — who then shall offer To Mars's so-scorned altar ? I do bleed When such I meet, and wish great Juno would Resume her ancient fit of jealousy, To get the soldier work ; that peace might purge For her repletion, and retain anew Her charitable heart, now hard, and harsher Than strife or war could be.

Arc. Are you not out ?

Meet you no ruin but the soldier in The cranks and turns of Thebes ? You did begin As if you met decays of many kinds : Perceive you none that do arouse your pity, But th' unconsidered soldier ?

Pal. Yes ; I pity

Decays where'er I find them ; but such most, That, sweating in an honorable toil, Are paid with ice to cool 'em.

Arc. 'Tis not this

I did begin to speak of; this is virtue Of no respect in Thebes. I spake of Thebes, How dangerous, if we will keep our honors, It is for our residing ; where every evil Hath a good color ; where every seeming good's A certain evil ; where not to be even jump 2 As they are here, were to be strangers, and Such things to be mere monsters.

Pal. It is in our power, —

Unless we fear that apes can tutor us — to Be masters of our manners. What need I Affect another's gait, which is not catching Where there is faith ? or to be fond upon Another's way of speech, when, by mine own, I may be reasonably conceived, — saved too, Speaking it truly ? Why am I bound, By any generous bond, to follow him Follows his tailor — haply so long, until The followed make pursuit ; Or, let me know, Why mine own barber is unblessed with him ; My poor chin too, for 'tis not scissored just To such a favorite's glass ? What canon's there That does command my rapier from my hip, To dangle 't in my hand ; or to go tiptoe Before the street be foul ? Either I am The fore-horse in the team, or I am none That draw i' the sequent trace ! These poor slight

sores Need not a plantain ; that which rips my bosom Almost to the heart's —

Arc. Our uncle Creon.

Pal. He !—

A most unbounded tyrant, whose successes Make Heaven unfeared, and villany assured, Beyond its power there's nothing ; — almost puts 3

l Flurt — to snap the fingers derisively. We may read /touted.

- Jump — just — exactly.

3 This passage is ordinarily printed : —

•' A most unbounded tyrant, whoee successes Make Heaven unfeared, and villany assured. Beyond its power ; thero's nothing almost puts," &c. Seward suggested the punctuation which we have adopted,

Faith in a fever, 4 and deifies alone Voluble chance — who only attributes The faculties of other instruments To his own nerves and act; commands men's service, And what they win in't, boot and glory too — That fears not to do harm — good dares not — let The blood of mine thats sib 5 to him be sucked From me with leeches : let them break and fall Off me with that corruption !

Arc. Clear-spirited cousin,

Let's leave his court, that we may nothing share Of his loud infamy ! for [still] our milk Will relish of the pasture, and we must Be vile or disobedient ; not his kinsmen In blood, unless in quality.

Pal. Nothing truer !

I think the echoes of his shames have deafed The ears of heav'nly justice : widows' cries Descend again into their throats, and have not Due audience of the gods. — Valerius ! Enter Valerius.

Val. The king calls for you ; yet be leaden-footed, Till his great rage be off him ! Phoebus, when He broke his whipstock, and exclaimed against The horses of the sun, but whispered to The loudness of his fury.

Pal. Small winds shake him.

But what's the matter ?

Vol. Theseus (who where he threats appals) hath Deadly defiance to him, and pronounces [sent

Ruin to Thebes ; who is at hand to seal The promise of his wrath.

Arc. Let him approach !

But that we fear the gods in him, he brings not A jot of terror to us. Yet what man Thirds his own worth (the case is each of ours) When that his action's dregged with mind assured 'Tis bad he goes about ?

Pal. Leave that unreasoned !

Our services stand now for Thebes, not Creon. Yet, to be neutral to him, were dishonor, Rebellious to oppose ; therefore, we must, With him, stand to the mercy of our fate, Who hath bounded our last minute.

Arc. So we must.

Is't said this war's afoot ? or it shall be, On fail of some condition ?

Val. 'Tis in motion ;

The intelligence of state came in the instant With the defier.

Pal Let's to the king ! 6Were he

A quarter carrier of that honor which His enemy comes in, the blood we venture

in the third line ; but by leaving the plural nominative successes he left the remainder of the sentence unintelligible — at least to modern readers, who require strict grammatical construction.*

* Thus Mr. Knight I prefer to restore successes, as essential to the rhythm, and, by the omission of the letter 5 from makes, in the next line, to repair the grammatical hurts which are complained of. I have also changed the punctuation ; though the last three lines, which I have left untouched, are still very obscure, and are susceptible of improvement.

* Theobald reads it " faith in a fear," and I think with great propriety,— -to the manifest improvement of the verse, and to the equally evident elevation of the sense.

6 Sib — kin. ,

6 Previous editions read, " Who were he," thus rendering the line unmusical, without helping the sense.

ACT L— SCENE III.

Should be as for our health ; which were not spent ; Rather laid out for purchase. But alas, Our hands advanced before our hearts, what 1 will The fall o' the stroke do damage ?

Arc. Let th' event,

That never-erring arbitrator, tell us When we know all ourselves ; and let us follow The becking 2 of our chance ! [Exeunt.

SCENE III. Enter Perithous, Hippolyta, and Emilia

Per. No further .'

Hip. Sir, farewell ! Repeat my wishes

To our great lord, of whose success I dare not Make any timorous question ; yet I wish him Excess and overflow of power, an't might be, To dure 3 ill-dealing fortune. Speed to him ! Store never hurts good governors.

Per. Though I know

His ocean needs not my poor drops, yet they Must yield their tribute there. My precious maid, Those best affections that the Heavens infuse In their best-tempered pieces, keep enthroned In your dear heart .'

Emi. Thanks, sir .' Remember me

To our all-royal brother ! for whose speed The great Bellona I'll solicit : and Since, in our terrene state petitions are not Without gifts understood, I'll offer to her What I shall be advised she likes. Our hearts Are in his army, in his tent !

Hip. In 's bosom !

We have been soldiers, and we can not weep When our friends don their helms, or put to sea, Or tell of babes broached on the lance, or women That have sod their infants in (and after eat them) The brine they wept at killing 'em ; then if You stay to see of us such spinsters, we Should hold you here for ever.

Per. Peace be to you,

As I pursue this war ! which shall be then Beyond further requiring. [Exit.

Emi. How his longing

Follows his friend ! Since his depart, his sports, Though craving seriousness and skill, past slightly His careless execution, where nor gain Made him regard, or loss consider ; but Playing 4 one 5 business in his hand, another Directing in his head, his mind nurse equal To these so diff'ring twins ! Have you observed him Since our great lord departed ?

Hip. With much labor,

And I did love him for't. They two have cabined In many as dangerous, as poor a corner ; Peril and want contending ; they have skiffed Torrents, whose roaring tyranny and power V th' least of these was dreadful ; and they have Fought out together, where death's self was lodged ; Yet fate hath brought them off. Their knot of love Tied, weaved, entangled, with so true, so long, And with a finger of so deep a cunning,

i How will.

2 Qu. : Beckon? or beckoning?

3 Dure. So the original, for endure. Some read cure ; others, dare.

* Should not plying be the word instead of playing? 6 One is suggested by M. Mason. The original has ore.

May be outworn, never undone. I think Theseus can not be umpire to himself, Cleaving his conscience into twain, and doing Each side like justice, which he loves best.