Two Noble Kinsmen (Oxford 1908)/Prologue

PROLOGVUE.

[Florish.]


 * New Playes, and Maydenheads, are neare akin,
 * Much follow’d both, for both much mony gi'yn,
 * If they stand sound, and well: And a good Play
 * (Whose modest Sceanes blush on his marriage day,
 * And shake to loose his honour) is like hir
 * That after holy Tye and first nights stir
 * Yet still is modestie, and still retaines
 * More of the maid to sight, than Husband’s paines.
 * We pray our Play may be so; For I am sure
 * It has a noble Breeder, and a pure,
 * A learned, and a Poet never went
 * More famous yet twixt Po and silver Trent.
 * Chaucer (of all admir’d) the Story gives,
 * There constant to eternity it lives.
 * If we let fall the Noblenesse of this,
 * And the first sound this child heare, be a hisse,
 * How will it shake the bones of that good man
 * And make him cry from under ground, “O fan
 * From me the witles chaffe of such a wrighter
 * That blastes my Bayes, and my fam'd workes makes lighter
 * Then Robin Hood!” This is the feare we bring;
 * For to say Truth, it were an endlesse thing,
 * And too ambitious, to aspire to him,
 * Weake as we are, and almost breathlesse swim
 * In this deepe water. Do but you hold out
 * Your helping hands, and we shall take about,
 * And something doe to save us: You shall heare
 * Sceanes, though below his Art, may yet appeare
 * Worth two houres travell. To his bones sweet sleepe:
 * Content to you. If this play doe not keepe
 * A little dull time from us, we perceave
 * Our losses fall so thicke, we must needs leave.