The Two Noble Kinsmen In Plain and Simple English (Digital Download)

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PURCHASE A COPY OF THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN IN PLAIN AND SIMPLE ENGLISH NOW! Do you need to understand Shakespeare and want something more interactive? Try our free app, SwipeSpeare! EXCERPT FROM THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN IN PLAIN AND SIMPLE ENGLISH Act IScene I Athens. Before a temple.(Hymen, Boy, Nymphs, Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Emilia, Artesius, Attendants, Three Queens) Enter Hymen with a torch burning; a Boy, in a white robe, before, singing and strewing flow’rs; after Hymen, a Nymph, encompass’d in her tresses, bearing a wheaten garland; then Theseus, between two other Nymphs with wheaten chaplets an their heads; then Hippolyta, the bride, led by Pirithous, and another holding a garland over her head (her tresses likewise hanging; after her, Emilia, holding up her train; Artesius and Attendants. BOYMusic. The Song by the Boy.Roses, their sharp spines being gone,Not royal in their smells alone,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 dim;Oxlips in their cradles growing,Marigolds on death-beds blowing,Larks’-heels trim;All dear Nature’s children sweet,Lie ’fore bride and bridegroom’s feet.Strew flowers.Blessing their sense;Not an angel of the air,Bird melodious, or bird fair,Is absent hence.The crow, the sland’rous cuckoo, norThe boding raven, nor chough hoar,Nor chatt’ring pie,May on our bridehouse perch or sing,Or with them any discord bring,But from it fly.Roses, once their thorns are gone,are not made royal only by their perfume,but by their colour as well;maiden pinks which smell little,daisies which don't smell but are pretty,and true sweet thyme;primroses, first flower of spring,signalling the happy start of springtimewith her muted bells;oxlips growing in their cradles,marigolds blowing over graves,neat larks'-heels;all of dear Nature's sweet childrenare lying at the bride and bridegroom's feet.They bless their senses;not one angel of the air,sweet singing or beautiful bird,is missing.The crow, the lying cuckoo,the ominous raven, the cold cough,nor the chattering magpie,may not sit on the wedding house or singor bring any discord here,they should fly away.Enter three Queens, in black, with veils stain’d, 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.FIRST QUEEN.For pity’s sake and true gentility’s,Hear and respect me.For the sake of pity and nobility,hear me and respect me. SECOND QUEEN.For your mother’s sake,And as you wish your womb may thrive with fair ones,Hear and respect me.For the sake of your mother,and your future hopes of beautiful children,hear me and respect me.THIRD QUEEN.Now for the love of him whom Jove hath mark’dThe honor of your bed, and for the sakeOf clear virginity, be advocateFor us and our distresses! This good deedShall raze you out o’ th’ book of trespassesAll you are set down there.Now for the love of the one whom Jove has chosento honour your bed, and in the nameof pure virginity, speak outfor us and our misfortunes! This good deedwill wipe out all your sins.THESEUSSad lady, rise.Sad lady, get up.HIPPOLYTAStand up.Stand up.EMILIANo knees to me.What woman I may stead that is distress’dDoes bind me to her.There's no need to kneel to me.If a woman is in trouble and needs my helpI will not fail her.THESEUSWhat’s your request? Deliver you for all.What do you want to ask for? You speak for all of you.FIRST QUEEN.We are three queens, whose sovereigns fell beforeThe wrath of cruel Creon; who enduredThe beaks of ravens, talents of the kites,And pecks of crows in the foul fields of Thebes.He will not suffer us to bum their bones,To urn their ashes, nor to take th’ offenseOf mortal loathsomeness from the blest eyeOf holy Phoebus, but infects the windsWith stench of our slain lords. O, pity, Duke,Thou purger of the earth, draw thy fear’d swordThat does good turns to th’ world; give us the bonesOf our dead kings, that we may chapel them;And of thy boundless goodness take some noteThat for our crowned heads we have no roof,Save this which is the lion’s, and the bear’s,And vault to every thing!We are three queens, whose husbands were killedby the anger of cruel Creon; their bodies were tornby the beaks of ravens, the claws of kites,and the pecking of crows in the foul fields of Thebes.He won't let us cremate them,to put their ashes in an urn, or to take the horrible sightof rotting corpses away from the blessed sightof the holy sun, but lets the stench of our dead husbandsreek through the air. Pity us, Duke,you who has cleaned the earth, draw your fearsome swordthat does good deeds for the world; get the bonesof our dead kings for us so we can have a proper funeral;and in your infinite goodness please notethat we have no roof over our royal heads,apart from this sky which we share withthe lion, the bear and everything!THESEUSPray you kneel not;I was transported with your speech, and suffer’dYour knees to wrong themselves. I have heard the fortunesOf your dead lords, which gives me such lamentingAs wakes my vengeance and revenge for ’em.King Capaneus was your lord. The dayThat he should marry you, at such a seasonAs now it is with me, I met your groomBy Mars’s altar. You were that time fair;Not Juno’s mantle fairer than your tresses,Nor in more bounty spread her. Your wheaten wreathWas then nor thresh’d nor blasted; Fortune at youDimpled her cheek with smiles. Hercules our kinsman(Then weaker than your eyes) laid by his club;He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide,And swore his sinews thaw’d. O grief and time,Fearful consumers, you will all devour!Please don't kneel;I was absorbed in what you said, and wrongly allowedyou to stay on your knees. I have heard about the fatesof your dead husbands, and it makes me so sadthat it inspires me to take revenge for them.Your husband was King Capaneus. On yourwedding day, on the same occasion I am nowenjoying, I met your groom atthe altar of Mars. You were lovely at that time;Juno's cloak was not more lovely than your hair,nor more plentiful. Your golden lockshadn't been torn or windblown; Fortunesmiled upon you. Our kinsman Hercules(who then had less power than your eyes) put down his club;he tumbled down on his Nemean hide,and swore he had become weak. Oh grief and time,with your terrible greed, you will devour everything! FIRST QUEEN.O, I hope some god,Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood,Whereto he’ll infuse pow’r, and press you forthOur undertaker.Oh, I hope some godhas added mercy to your manly virtues,which he will make work and employ youto do this service for us.THESEUSO, no knees, none, widow!Unto the helmeted Bellona use them,And pray for me your soldier.Troubled I am.Oh, no kneeling, widow!Use your knees to pray to the goddess of war,and pray for me as your soldier.I am troubled.Turns away.SECOND QUEEN.Honored Hippolyta,Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slainThe scythe-tusk’d boar; that with thy arm, as strongAs it is white, wast near to make the maleTo thy sex captive, but that this thy lord,Born to uphold creation in that honorFirst Nature styl’d it in, shrunk thee intoThe bound thou wast o’erflowing, at once subduingThy force and thy affection; soldieressThat equally canst poise sternness with pity,Whom now I know hast much more power on himThan ever he had on thee, who ow’st his strength,And his love too, who is a servant forThe 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 womanAs any of us three; weep ere you fail;Lend us a knee;But touch the ground for us no longer timeThan a dove’s motion when the head’s pluck’d off;Tell him, if he i’ th’ blood-siz’d field lay swoll’n,Showing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon,What you would do.Respected Hippolyta,Most feared Amazonian, who has killedthe sharp-tusked boar; you who almost,with your strong white arm, subduedthe male sex, until your lord here,this perfect specimenof Nature, pushed your advancesback, capturing your force and your love;as a soldier you can show both sternness and pity,and I now know you have much more power over himthan he ever had over you, you have captured his forceand his love too, he will doanything you say; dear perfect lady,tell him that we, burned by flaming war,want to be cooled in the shade of his sword;tell him to hold it over our heads;speak to him as a woman - a woman like any of us;weep before you admit defeat;kneel to him;but don't do so for longerthan a dove keeps moving when its head is cut off;tell him what you would do if he lay rottingon a blood-soaked battlefield, turning into a skeletonbeneath the open skies.HIPPOLYTAPoor lady, say no more:I had as lief trace this good action with youAs that whereto I am going, and never yetWent I so willing way. My lord is takenHeart-deep with your distress. Let him consider.I’ll speak anon.Poor lady, say no more:I'm as happy to help youas I am to be married, and I was neverhappier about anything than that. My lordfeels your distress deep in his heart. Let him think.I'll speak to him soon.THIRD QUEEN.O, my petition wasKneel to Emilia.Set down in ice, which by hot grief uncandiedMelts into drops; so sorrow wanting formIs press’d with deeper matter.Oh, my request waswritten on ice, which was melted bybitter hot grief; so sorrow cannot show itselfwhen faced with such a great evil.EMILIAPray stand up,Your grief is written in your cheek.Please stand up,your grief is obvious from your face.THIRD QUEEN.O, woe,You cannot read it there. There, through my tears,Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream,You may behold ’em. Lady, lady, alack!He that will all the treasure know o’ th’ earthMust know the centre too; he that will fishFor my least minnow, let him lead his lineTo catch one at my heart. O, pardon me,Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,Makes me a fool.Oh, you cannotsee my sorrow there. You can see my cheeks under my tearslike wrinkled pebbles in a watery stream.Alas, lady!Someone who wants the treasure of the earth must dig into it;if you want to know any part of my griefyou have to look deep into my heart. Oh, pardon me,extreme suffering, that makes some people sharper,makes me a fool.EMILIAPray you say nothing, pray you.Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in’t,Knows neither wet nor dry. If that you wereThe ground-piece of some painter, I would buy youT’ instruct me ’gainst a capital grief indeed--Such heart-pierc’d demonstration! But alas,Being a natural sister of our sex,Your sorrow beats so ardently upon meThat it shall make a counter-reflect ’gainstMy brother’s heart, and warm it to some pity,Though it were made of stone. Pray have good comfort.Please, I beg you, say nothing.Someone who can't see or feel the rain,when they're in it,knows nothing. If you werea painting, I would buy youto keep as an example of the greatest sorrow-such a heartrending example! But alas,as all we women are sisters,your sorrow affects me so deeplythat it will reflect off me intomy brother's heart, and kindle pity thereeven if it were made of stone. Please be sure of that.THESEUSForward to th’ temple. Leave not out a jotO’ th’ sacred ceremony.Onward to the temple. Don't leave out a wordof the sacred ceremony. Show more