One act into this one, I was already weary of this half-Shakespeare crap. And I still have Edward III to slog through, although that one was written much earlier in time, so it may not be as VAPID as this one. *eye roll* I mean, OMG, you can tell the man was tired because there’s just no more OOMPH left in him. All the great tragedies served as anvils on which he forged his soul to fight personal demons and grief and the late romances were him using writing as therapy to understand his own relationship with his family, so the guy was understandably DONE. Unsurprisingly, this one was hotly contested as a genuine Shakespearean piece of work, given its dual-authorship and banality, but it’s in the Riverside, so it’s been generally accepted at this point.
The Two Noble Kinsmen is based on Geoffrey Chaucer’s The Knight’s Tale, but of course, it didn’t have quite enough subplots (zero, in fact) for Shakespeare and his co-writer Fletcher, so they injected the side story of the Jailer’s mad Daughter into it because why not? Otherwise, this whole thing feels achingly half-assed. It’s just plain boring. I don't know if that's so much Chaucer's fault as it is my own modern TikTok-spoiled brain being unable to comprehend how this passes as entertainment. Probably neither, honestly. I'm just so acclimated to the constant quality of Shakespeare that anything less than that is blah.
I won’t hide my lack of enthusiasm for this play, especially when contrasted with the sheer emotional brilliance of my self-assigned movie of the week: Sir Ken’s All Is True (2018). I saved this for the end of this year because 1) these last few plays don’t really have any film productions to speak of and 2) I wanted to take the whole year’s reading journey before watching a movie explicitly addressing Shakespeare’s life at the end of his career. I’m glad I saved it for now, because damn do I have feelings about it. The film conjured so many thoughts and emotions that I think it most appropriate to cover it in a separate blog post. On a related note, there will also be a bonus blog post about my new favorite BBC series Upstart Crow and how fucking genius that is. I cannot get enough of it.
And now… go ahead and-speed-read through the following about The Two Noble Kinsmen.
PROLOGUE
The usual apologies for sucking and names drops (Chaucer and Robin Hood). Every great prologue does this very thing. *eye roll*
ACT I
We're back in Athens with Hippolyta (of Midsummer fame) and Hymen and Nymphs and Boys and whatnot, prepping for a wedding. The General of Athens, Pirithous, leads Hippolyta in, and Emilia, her sister, holds her train. The Boy sings a song about flowers and Spring as blossoms are strewn about. Suddenly three black-clad Queens, whose husbands "fell before The wrath of cruel Creon" throw themselves at the feet of Duke Theseus, Hippolyta, and Emila. They beg to be allowed to give their loved ones proper burial rites. Theseus grants the first Queen her wishes. Hippolyta grants the wish of the second Queen, Emilia says the third Queen's grief has moved her as well, and Theseus says everyone should go to the temple and conduct their sacred ceremonies. The Queens explain that their husbands are being left out in the sun and Theseus promises to give them real graves. They continue to beg for his help in revenge and say now's an advantageous moment to attack Creon of Thebes. Theseus tells his Captain Artesius to ready for battle so they can get on with the wedding already. Hippolyta says she will lend assistance, and Emilia begs that they take care of the Queens' business first or she'll never take a husband. Theseus rolls his eyes and orders Pirithous to marry Hippolyta to him by proxy and tells Artesius to get ready in haste. The Queens thank him profusely.
Next we meet Palamon and Arcite in Thebes, the titular Noble Kinsmen. They chat with each other about how close they are--regular bosom buddies--and how much it would suck if their youthful innocence were drained away by temptations and other bad influences, so they decide they must leave Thebes and their tyrant uncle Creon. But just ten, Valerius enters and breathlessly tells them that Creon calls for their aide, since Theseus is challenging Creon in battle. The boys decide that although they hate Creon's gutlings, they will fight for Thebes' sake.
Back in Athens, Hippolyta and Emilia bid farewell to Pirithous as he goes to war for Theseus. Hippolyta praises the General for his bravery and loyalty to Theseus. Emilia says that's nice and all, but she had an even sweeter relationship with her poor dead playfellow Flavina. When they were eleven, they were BFFs and loved and hated all the same things just like great girlfriends do:
You talk of Pirithous’ and Theseus’ love:
Theirs has more ground, is more maturely season’d,
More buckled with strong judgment, and their needs
The one of th’ other may be said to water
Their intertangled roots of love, but I
And she (I sigh and spoke of) were things innocent,
Lov’d for we did, and like the elements
That know not what nor why, yet do effect
Rare issues by their operance, our souls
Did so to one another. What she lik’d
Was then of me approv’d, what not, condemn’d,
No more arraignment. The flow’r that I would pluck
And put between my breasts (O then but beginning
To swell about the blossom), she would long
Till she had such another, and commit it
To the like innocent cradle, where phoenix-like
They died in perfume. On my head no toy
But was her pattern, her affections (pretty,
Though happily her careless wear) I followed
For my most serious decking. Had mine ear
Stol’n some new air, or at adventure humm’d one
From musical coinage, why, it was a note
Whereon her spirits would sojourn (rather dwell on)
And sing it in her slumbers. This rehearsal
(Which, ev’ry innocent wots well, comes in
Like old importment’s bastard) has this end,
That the true love ’tween maid and maid may be
More than in sex dividual.
It's touching, really. Those poor girls' platonic adorations torn asunder by the ravages of the unfeeling universe.
Hippolyta is so impressed by this young love that she assumes Emilia will never call a man her husband and Emilia nods. Hippolyta is moved by Emilia's heartfelt dedication, and although she is nearly convinced to be similarly be unbothered by men, she will remain with Theseus. Because she is WEAK.
The battle with Creon ensues, and Theseus emerges victorious. The three Queens bow to him in his glory. Theseus tells them to go find their dead husbands' remains and do with them what they wish. They leave and a Herald and attendants come bearing their prisoners, Arcite and Palamon. Theseus says he recognizes them, having watched them fight passionately on the field of battle. Theseus is proud to have captured such great prey and orders the Herald to make sure their wounds get tended.
The Queens sing a song as they prepare their husbands for burial.
ACT II
A Jailer discusses the possibility of marriage with a Wooer who wants his Daughter. The Jailer says he's got two big "salmon"--Arcite and Palamon--amongst many minnows now in his cells. The Daughter enters to bring rushes for the cell floors and reports that the men are so high-born that they barely seem to be in jail at all. She is clearly infatuated with them.
Inside the cell, Palamon and Arcite whine about being jailed. They reminisce about the glory days in Thebes during festivals and worry that they will never see the outside world again. Arcite proposes that they treat the prison as their savior that keeps them together forever:
Let’s think this prison holy sanctuary
To keep us from corruption of worse men.
We are young and yet desire the ways of honor,
That liberty and common conversation,
The poison of pure spirits, might, like women,
Woo us to wander from. What worthy blessing
Can be, but our imaginations
May make it ours? And here being thus together,
We are an endless mine to one another;
We are one another’s wife, ever begetting
New births of love; we are father, friends, acquaintance;
We are, in one another, families:
I am your heir, and you are mine; this place
Is our inheritance. No hard oppressor
Dare take this from us; here with a little patience
We shall live long, and loving. No surfeits seek us;
The hand of war hurts none here, nor the seas
Swallow their youth. Were we at liberty,
A wife might part us lawfully, or business,
Quarrels consume us, envy of ill men
Crave our acquaintance; I might sicken, cousin,
Where you should never know it, and so perish
Without your noble hand to close mine eyes,
Or prayers to the gods. A thousand chances,
Were we from hence, would sever us.
Palamon loves this idea... until they hear Emilia walking outside the window with her maid, picking flowers. They both drool over her beauty and say they only now notice their true imprisonment. Then they fight over who saw her first and who loves her more. They insult each other until the Keeper comes but Palamon promises to knock Arcite's brains out. The Keeper takes Arcite out to have an audience with Theseus. Palamon frets that perhaps Arcite has been chosen to marry Emilia, because that makes total sense. Dumbass. The Keeper comes back and says Arcite has been banished and Palamon is to be moved to a windowless cell. Palamon is sure Arcite will try to woo Emilia and he just wants to die.
Outside Athens, Arcite wanders around, jealous that Palamon will see Emilia every day out the window. He decides to stay despite being banished so he can find her. Some Country Folk enter and start talking dirty about the women they plan to find at some sporting festivity about to happen involving the Duke. Arcite asks them where they are going and they say to see the wrastling and running of course. Arcite decides to attend, in disguise, so he can compete.
Back at the jail, the Daughter is daydreaming about the handsome man in the cell. I imagine her picking petals off a flower as she counts the ways. She resolves to free him, law be damned, and then he shall love her for it.
At the sporting games, Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, and Emilia greet Arcite, who has apparently kicked some serious ass in the competitions. The women suspect he was born of a noble woman, for he appears well-bred. Arcite is allowed to kiss Emilia's hand and he vows to kill anyone she hates. He is to be at her service, starting with the May rites to Diana in the forest. Theseus teases that if he were a woman, he would fall for Arcite, but Emilia rolls her eyes, for she is too wise for that crap.
The Jailer's Daughter has released Palamon from prison and taken him a mile hence, where she will bring him food and a file so he can take off his shackles. She knows she is desperately in love and will do any crazy thing for him, but she is sure he will do right by her, or he is no man. She runs off to gather supplies so she can meet him in the woods.
ACT III
Arcite wanders the forest near Athens, talking himself up about how awesome he is for pressing himself into Emilia's service so he can woo her. He self-assuredly remarks how much he'd love to see Palamon's face if he were there. And just like that, Palamon bursts out of the bushes nearby, still in his shackles, but attacking Arcite all the same, calling him a traitor and a "chaffy lord." Arcite walks back some of what he said and promises to bring Palamon some viands and a file to free himself. The horns blow and Arcite leaves to join the Duke's party, saying he'll be back soon.
Elsewhere in the forest, the Jailer's Daughter is searching for Palamon, hoping he hasn't been eaten by wolves. She has been out there for days and hasn't eaten and barely drank water, and she's afraid her father will be hanged for her crime, so she basically gives up in despair.
Arcite carries meat, wine and a file to Palamon. He tells him to dine a bit to regain his strength, and then they can talk. It starts out civil enough, but their drunken discussion turns to the women they've chased over the years and they blame each other for ladies they lost to each other. Arcite stomps off, leaving Palamon to his bitter meal while he gathers weaponry to duke this shit out later.
Night falls and the Daughter is still lost outdoors somewhere, going quite mad with hunger and desperation. She sleeps.
A group of country folk, including a Schoolmaster, some morris dancers, and some wenches, prance through the forest. The Schoolmaster says they must practice for the Duke, but one of his men says they're missing a woman. Luckily for them, the Jailer's Daughter shows up, singing to heart's content about nonsense. They think she's a perfect replacement. Theseus & Co. arrive to see the show. The Schoolmaster plods through a speech of rhyming couplets, basically saying they will do a Morris dance. Theseus says have at it, then. They do their thing for a bit and everyone is entertained. Pirithous hands over some cash and everyone's happy.
Later, Palamon comes out of his bush, wondering where the FUCK Arcite is. He comes in, armoured head to toe, carrying another set of armour for Palamon. They get each other ready for a fight, all the while reminiscing about the good memories of past jousts. They prepare to spar and each of them apologizes ahead of time for killing the other. They go at it, but then they are interrupted by the horns of the Duke's hunting party. Arcite tells Palamon to hide, since he will surely kill him if he is found. Palamon brushes it off, thinking Arcite is just scaring Palamon into forfeiting the fight. They fight again as the horns announce Theseus & Co. Theseus berates them for fighting. Palamon reveals their identities and that they fight for Emilia's hand,. They beg that they be allowed to continue their duel to the death. Hippolyta and Emilia kneel to Theseus, beseeching him to have mercy on the two princes and banish them. Theseus says if they are banished they will just kill each other, so Emilia must choose one and they will kill the other. She hates this idea, so Theseus proposes that in a month, they will each bring three friends and have a proper fight and whomever wins will get Emilia, the loser to be sentenced to death. Arcite and Palamon are fine with this. Emilia begrudgingly agrees to it. There are not nearly enough poetic words to make this whole scene tolerable in the least.
ACT IV
The Jailer chats with some friends about the gossip around Athens, but he is most worried about whether or not he is to be tried for allowing Palamon's escape. The Friends assure him that he's been pardoned because they found out the mad Daughter let him loose. The Wooer comes and says he's seen the Daughter running around singing songs and talking endlessly of Palamon when someone's Brother enters with the Daughter. She perseverates on how handsome Palamon is and seems to think she's on a ship at sea, in some gross parody of Ophelia's descent into lunacy. The Jailer and his Friends lead her into a cell for safe keeping.
Emilia is at the palace, contemplating two pictures of Arcite and Palamon, telling herself she is not at fault if either of them dies. She considers the handsome aspects of their faces and has feelings about both of them despite herself. A Gentleman enters to say that the fight is about to start. Emilia prays to Diana to help her no matter what happens. Theseus & Co. come in and Theseus asks if Emilia loves one more than the other and she cannot choose and doesn't want to be responsible for either of their untimely ends. A Messenger tells them how Arcite and Palamon are outfitted for the battle, and describes the men they brought with them. Hippolyta thinks it a pity that love should be so "tyrannous." They leave to see the fight.
Back at the jail, the Doctor makes a rather misogynistic observation about how the Daughter acts differently depending on the moon. The Jailer says she acts just as strange no matter what time of the month it is. She just goes on and on about Palamon. She enters and starts babbling about random shit. The Doctor shakes his head and says her mind is perturbed and that is so not his thing, but he suggests a course of action anyway: put her in a dark room and have the Wooer tell her he is Palamon and sing to her and eat with her and this will at least get her to sit down and have a meal for once.
ACT V
Three altars are erected to Mars, Venus, and Diana and Theseus invites everyone to make their prayers to their preferred gods at this time. Palamon and Arcite have one last embrace. Arcite and his knights pray to Mars for victory. They leave and Palamon and his crew enter to pray to Venus for love. They leave and Emilia enters to pray to Diana, for the last time as a virgin, and she asks for the one who loves her most to win the tournament.
And for some reason we go back to the jail to see how the Wooer is doing dressed as Palamon. Apparently, he's doing fine and the Daughter is coming around to him. The Doctor says to clinch this cure, the Wooer must give in to her if her mood inclines toward the way of flesh ("You have me? *hint hint*). UGH. She enters and the Jailer asks her if she likes this "Palamon." She agrees that he is a lovely man. The Wooer kisses her and she thinks the Doctor is Arcite. She asks him if "Palamon" will marry her and he says yes of course. A Messenger arrives to say the fight is about to start and the Jailer goes to watch but the Wooer takes the Daughter to dinner. She asks if they will sleep together and he agrees.
Theseus & Co. are gathered in the forest for the combat, but Emilia doesn't want to see this fight. Pirithous tells Theseus that she won't watch and Theseus insists she sees the blood shed for her hand. She still resists because she never asked for this shit and he says this whole thing is for her and the least she can do is shut up and watch. Hippolyta says she will know her husband before she does, and everyone leaves. Emilia talks to herself about how each man appears and which one might be a better match for her. She hears a horn as the fight begins. A Servant comes and says Palamon won. There's a back and forth of cries from offstage and they yell "Arcite!" Much confusion ensues, but it turns out Arcite has victory. All the fun stuff happens offstage because this play just couldn't get any more lame.
Theseus & Co. come back with Arcite and hand Emilia off to him. Hippolyta tears up and Emilia justly asks "Is this winning?" We're all asking that question.
Palamon is prepared for the block. He and his knights accept their fate honorably. He recognizes the Jailer and asks how his daughter is doing since the last time he saw her was when she set him free. The Jailer says she's getting married. Palamon hands over his purse, saying to give it to her. The knights hand over their purses as well and the Jailer is overjoyed. They're about to get executed when a Messenger halts the proceedings. Pirithous enters IN HASTE to report that Arcite was riding his horse when it was suddenly spooked and threw him off and he's dying and he's asking to speak to Palamon. They carry him in and Arcite asks Palamon to take Emilia as wife. He dies, Palamon prays for him to head to Elysium, Emilia wishes him the best. Theseus stands there like "Well, that was awkward, but hey, all the prayers to the gods were answered in the end." Palamon says "That we should things desire which do cost us The loss of our desire!" Theseus says he can have Emilia, obviously, since he was the first to have spotted her (God help us if marriage matches were always determined that way!). Theseus says they will have some days of grieving, and then a wedding. The funeral bak'd-meats do coldly furnish forth the marriage tables, eh?
Theseus gets in one good little bit of wisdom (and scholars say Shakespeare did write this part):
O you heavenly charmers,
What things you make of us! For what we lack
We laugh, for what we have are sorry, still
Are children in some kind. Let us be thankful
For that which is, and with you leave dispute
That are above our question. Let’s go off,
And bear us like the time.
I'm thankful that Bloom made a point to analyze this last bit, because its wisdom is more complex than its construction. Appropriately, this is a tiny encore after The Tempest, and perhaps a shard of Shakespeare himself slips through. He's telling us that at the end of the day, we are all children of some whimsical force, and we shouldn't take it all too seriously. Bloom concludes that "And bear us like the time" means we should, in the words of the stage version of Alexander Hamilton:
"...we laugh, reach for a flask We have to make this moment last, that's plenty
Scratch that this is not a moment, it's the movement..."
Is old William, that ambiguously secular Buddha, telling us to live in the present and sustain that for whatever time remains? If that's all I learned from this otherwise bonkers play, I'm happy to have spent the whole week finally getting to it.
The Epilogue at the end makes me laugh because it's asking how everyone liked the play and the speaker observes that no one is happy and I am totally on board with that sentiment.
Next week is Edward III, which was written way back in 1592ish. At least some scholars believe that of all the non-canonical plays, this one has the strongest argument for Shakespeare's involvement. So there's that. Soon, we will be back in full-throttle Bard mode with all the poems and sonnets and I am so ready!
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