Speeches (Lines) for DOCTOR in "The Two Noble Kinsmen"

EMILIA. Poor wench, go weep, for whosoever wins
Loses a noble cousin for thy sins.

[She exits.]

DOCTOR. [Enter Jailer, Wooer, Doctor.]
Her distraction is more at some time of the
moon than at other some, is it not?

DAUGHTER. I have forgot it quite. The burden on 't was
"down-a down-a," and penned by no worse man
than Geraldo, Emilia's schoolmaster. He's as fantastical,
too, as ever he may go upon 's legs, for in
the next world will Dido see Palamon, and then
will she be out of love with Aeneas.

DOCTOR. [aside to Jailer and Wooer]
What stuff's here?
Poor soul.

DAUGHTER. Now for this charm that I told you of, you
must bring a piece of silver on the tip of your
tongue, or no ferry; then if it be your chance to
come where the blessed spirits are, there's a
sight now! We maids that have our livers perished,
cracked to pieces with love, we shall come there,
and do nothing all day long but pick flowers with
Proserpine. Then will I make Palamon a nosegay;
then let him mark me then.

DOCTOR. How prettily she's amiss! Note her a little further.

DAUGHTER. Faith, I'll tell you, sometime we go to
barley-break, we of the blessed. Alas, 'tis a sore life
they have i' th' other place--such burning, frying,
boiling, hissing, howling, chatt'ring, cursing--O,
they have shrewd measure, take heed! If one be
mad, or hang or drown themselves, thither they
go, Jupiter bless us, and there shall we be put in
a cauldron of lead and usurers' grease, amongst a
whole million of cutpurses, and there boil like a
gammon of bacon that will never be enough.

DOCTOR. How her brains coins!

DAUGHTER. Lords and courtiers that have got maids
with child, they are in this place. They shall stand
in fire up to the navel and in ice up to th' heart, and
there th' offending part burns and the deceiving
part freezes: in troth, a very grievous punishment,
as one would think, for such a trifle. Believe me,
one would marry a leprous witch to be rid on 't, I'll assure you.

DOCTOR. How she continues this fancy! 'Tis not an engraffed
madness, but a most thick and profound
melancholy.

JAILER. What think you of her, sir?

DOCTOR. I think she has a perturbed mind, which I
cannot minister to.

JAILER. Alas, what then?

DOCTOR. Understand you she ever affected any man
ere she beheld Palamon?

WOOER. I did think so, too, and would account I had a
great penn'orth on 't to give half my state that both
she and I, at this present, stood unfeignedly on the
same terms.

DOCTOR. That intemp'rate surfeit of her eye hath distempered
the other senses. They may return and
settle again to execute their preordained faculties,
but they are now in a most extravagant vagary.
This you must do: confine her to a place where
the light may rather seem to steal in than be
permitted.--Take upon you, young sir, her friend,
the name of Palamon; say you come to eat with
her, and to commune of love. This will catch her
attention, for this her mind beats upon; other
objects that are inserted 'tween her mind and eye
become the pranks and friskins of her madness.
Sing to her such green songs of love as she says
Palamon hath sung in prison. Come to her stuck
in as sweet flowers as the season is mistress of,
and thereto make an addition of some other compounded
odors which are grateful to the sense.
All this shall become Palamon, for Palamon can
sing, and Palamon is sweet and ev'ry good thing.
Desire to eat with her, carve her, drink to her, and
still among intermingle your petition of grace and
acceptance into her favor. Learn what maids have
been her companions and playferes, and let them
repair to her with Palamon in their mouths, and
appear with tokens, as if they suggested for him.--
It is a falsehood she is in, which is with falsehoods
to be combated. This may bring her to eat,
to sleep, and reduce what's now out of square in
her into their former law and regiment. I have seen
it approved, how many times I know not, but to
make the number more, I have great hope in this.
I will between the passages of this project come
in with my appliance. Let us put it in execution
and hasten the success, which doubt not will bring
forth comfort.

[They exit.]

EMILIA. [Still music of recorders. Enter Emilia in white, her
hair about her shoulders, wearing a wheaten wreath;
one in white holding up her train, her hair stuck with
flowers; one before her carrying a silver hind, in which
is conveyed incense and sweet odors, which being
set upon the altar of Diana, her maids standing
aloof, she sets fire to it. Then they curtsy and kneel.]

O sacred, shadowy, cold, and constant queen,
Abandoner of revels, mute contemplative,
Sweet, solitary, white as chaste, and pure
As wind-fanned snow, who to thy female knights
Allow'st no more blood than will make a blush,
Which is their order's robe, I here, thy priest,
Am humbled 'fore thine altar. O, vouchsafe
With that thy rare green eye, which never yet
Beheld thing maculate, look on thy virgin,
And, sacred silver mistress, lend thine ear--
Which ne'er heard scurrile term, into whose port
Ne'er entered wanton sound--to my petition,
Seasoned with holy fear. This is my last
Of vestal office. I am bride-habited
But maiden-hearted. A husband I have 'pointed,
But do not know him. Out of two I should
Choose one, and pray for his success, but I
Am guiltless of election. Of mine eyes,
Were I to lose one--they are equal precious--
I could doom neither; that which perished should
Go to 't unsentenced. Therefore, most modest queen,
He of the two pretenders that best loves me
And has the truest title in 't, let him
Take off my wheaten garland, or else grant
The file and quality I hold I may
Continue in thy band.

[Here the hind vanishes under the
altar, and in the place ascends a rose
tree, having one rose upon it.]

See what our general of ebbs and flows
Out from the bowels of her holy altar
With sacred act advances: but one rose.
If well inspired, this battle shall confound
Both these brave knights, and I, a virgin flower,
Must grow alone unplucked.

[Here is heard a sudden twang of instruments,
and the rose falls from the tree.]

The flower is fall'n, the tree descends. O mistress,
Thou here dischargest me. I shall be gathered;
I think so, but I know not thine own will.
Unclasp thy mystery!--I hope she's pleased;
Her signs were gracious.

[They curtsy and exit.]

DOCTOR. [Enter Doctor, Jailer, and Wooer in
the habit of Palamon.]

Has this advice I told you done any good upon her?

WOOER. O, very much. The maids that kept her company
Have half-persuaded her that I am Palamon;
Within this half-hour she came smiling to me,
And asked me what I would eat, and when I would kiss her.
I told her "Presently," and kissed her twice.

DOCTOR. 'Twas well done; twenty times had been far better,
For there the cure lies mainly.

WOOER. Then she told me
She would watch with me tonight, for well she knew
What hour my fit would take me.

DOCTOR. Let her do so,
And when your fit comes, fit her home,
And presently.

WOOER. She would have me sing.

DOCTOR. You did so?

WOOER. No.

DOCTOR. 'Twas very ill done, then.
You should observe her ev'ry way.

WOOER. Alas,
I have no voice, sir, to confirm her that way.

DOCTOR. That's all one, if you make a noise.
If she entreat again, do anything.
Lie with her, if she ask you.

JAILER. Ho there, doctor!

DOCTOR. Yes, in the way of cure.

JAILER. But first, by your leave,
I' th' way of honesty.

DOCTOR. That's but a niceness.
Ne'er cast your child away for honesty.
Cure her first this way; then if she will be honest,
She has the path before her.

JAILER. Thank you, doctor.

DOCTOR. Pray bring her in
And let's see how she is.

JAILER. I will, and tell her
Her Palamon stays for her. But, doctor,
Methinks you are i' th' wrong still.

[Jailer exits.]

DOCTOR. Go, go.
You fathers are fine fools. Her honesty?
And we should give her physic till we find that!

WOOER. Why, do you think she is not honest, sir?

DOCTOR. How old is she?

WOOER. She's eighteen.

DOCTOR. She may be.
But that's all one; 'tis nothing to our purpose.
Whate'er her father says, if you perceive
Her mood inclining that way that I spoke of,
Videlicet, the way of flesh--you have me?

WOOER. Yes, very well, sir.

DOCTOR. Please her appetite,
And do it home; it cures her, ipso facto,
The melancholy humor that infects her.

WOOER. I am of your mind, doctor.

DOCTOR. You'll find it so.

[Enter Jailer, Daughter, and Maid.]

She comes; pray humor her.

[Wooer and Doctor stand aside.]

DAUGHTER. Yours to command i' th' way of honesty.--
How far is 't now to th' end o' th' world, my masters?

DOCTOR. Why, a day's journey, wench.

DAUGHTER. 'Tis a sweet one,
And will perfume me finely against the wedding.
Is not this your cousin Arcite?

[She indicates Doctor.]

DOCTOR. Yes, sweetheart,
And I am glad my cousin Palamon
Has made so fair a choice.

DAUGHTER. Do you think he'll have me?

DOCTOR. Yes, without doubt.

JAILER. I'll away straight.--
I must e'en leave you here.

DOCTOR. Nay, we'll go with you.
I will not lose the sight.

JAILER. [aside to Doctor]
How did you like her?

DOCTOR. I'll warrant you, within these three or four days
I'll make her right again.

[Jailer and Messenger exit.]

[To Wooer.]
You must not from her,
But still preserve her in this way.

WOOER. I will.

DOCTOR. Let's get her in.

DAUGHTER. And then we'll sleep together.

DOCTOR. [to Wooer]
Take her offer.